My first memory of her was a bad one. I was about three years old, and I was sleeping over at Ninong Eric and Ninang Badeth's house with Ninang Chris and Nanay. It was time for bed, and I was innocently reading a prayer hanging on the wall as a bedtime prayer, not knowing it was a prayer for couples who want to thank God for their prosperous togetherness. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain on my foot. I turned around and saw Nanay pinching me, and with a very grave face, she said "Ang kulit kulit mo talaga!!" I searched her face to see whether she meant the statement to be an endearment or not, but her face remained stern and unsmiling. I was confused, for I haven't really done anything bad at all that day. My brain failed to understand the situation, and so, like any sensible toddler, I cried.
My last memory of her couldn't really be classified as good, either. She was lying by the corner, a blanket draped over her body and her head and shoulders the only things visible. In contrast with the memories of the plump, jolly woman known to all of us as Nanay Sinang, my mind kept stubbornly telling me that the forlorn skeleton before my eyes was not my grandmother, even if I knew that she was. So I sat beside her, not really knowing what to do or say. I asked Ate Jean and Ate Jassen, who helped Ninang Chris take care of her, how long it had been since she refused to eat or drink anything. They said that it started on New Year's Day. Suddenly, Nanay hoarsely whispered (my mind: Hear that voice? That's not your Grandma!) "'Nak, pasensya ka na ha, wag muna kayo dito sa tabi ko magbulungan. Ayaw ko ng maingay." That was the very last thing she ever said to me.
Yet, when I stood there yesterday morning by her coffin, gazing at her frail, frail body for the very last time, I couldn't think of anything except the times that she used secretly slip P100 bills into our hands before we go home, the times she fawned over us when we were sick, how she loved us all despite our noise, our shortcomings, our imperfections... For the very first time since the Wednesday morning I woke up to the news of her death, I let all my self-control go and bawled my soul out.
We promised her we wouldn't cry. I looked around with misty eyes and saw my grown-up, macho cousins shedding manly tears. That was when I realized, this is the first time I remember all of us, the whole Fabian family (minus Tito Taba, who was in the Middle East, and Ninong Eric's family, who stubbornly refused to come until the very end), in one place, weeping our hearts out with a common grief.
Throughout Nanay's wake, we had been like one big happy family. Not kidding, the Chapel already feels like a second home to us. It was the first time I remember bonding with my cousins like that. We explored the cemetery at midnight. We sucked Kuya Dino's broadband internet dry. We watched Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works and Dante’s Inferno and FlipTop and Harry Potter: Goblet of Fire and whatever else we could find in Kuya Kevin’s and Neil’s USBs, since there was no internet. We sang the Indian Nipple Song and Benny Lava and played retarded, made-up card games until the sun rose again.
In short, we did everything in our power to delay the inevitable, acrid despair, the biting agony that would hit us the moment when we’ll all realize that Nanay is gone forever, that we’ll never hear her sweet laugh and her maternal voice ever again, see her and feel her familiar, motherly aura, hug her and let her warmly hug us back. In the end, all we could do was stand back and sob as the machine deposited her into the chamber. We would have gone mad if we didn’t cry, after all.
Despite all the suffering we were going through, at least we can bet that Nanay is happy. Tatay has been inviting her to come with him for a long time now, and she only complied this Wednesday. I showed everyone the picture of Nanay I took before she was cremated, and she was smiling. Seriously.
Being the horrid granddaughter that I am, I think I’ll miss the fun times we had at the Chapel more than I’ll miss Nanay. The Chapel days may not happen again for a long time (someone even suggested we sacrifice one family member a month to relive the Chapel days, but of course I... err... she was only kidding), but Nanay will always be with us, staring down at us with her beloved Tatay, reunited at last after 11 years of being apart. I bet they’re shaking their heads right now at me this very moment, telling me to go to sleep because it’s 11pm and I have loooooots of things to make up for tomorrow. As I can’t think of anything more to say, I’ll leave this matter to rest now.
We love you so much, Nanay. If not for you, none of us would be here at all. We’ll miss you so much, have fun on the other side, and always keep watch with Tatay over us, okay? ♥
