a story for HalloweenTHE DAY GRANDMA DIED
Some of our childhood experiences and attitudes leave us certain fears and phobias, especially when it comes to unexplainable events.
My Grandmother was very sick when I first saw with her during my early years.TB had already ravaged her lungs and affected most of her physique.For some reasons, she refused to see any doctor or to take any medicine.
Streptomycin at that time could have cured her, but she refused any kind of medical attention. Maybe she was afraid of the needle because she had to be injected everyday for a whole month. Or maybe she had other reasons.
So she had a caregiver, an old woman named Maria who attended to her every need because my Grandmother was already confined inside her room. Our family house at that time have three huge bedrooms, a wide living room. This was the second floor. The first floor was filled most of the time with sacks of rice or palay. At the back of our house was a big rice mill where the townspeople came for converting their unhusked rice grains into plain rice. My grandparents were the pioneers in this kind of enterprise.
Grandma's room was closed most of the time and passing by its door would give me the shivers. At that time, she could not walk any more. She would crawl on her behind when she went out of her room to a kind of balcony so she can have some fresh air. She looked really scary to a 5-year old like me because she was already barely skin and bones.
I sometimes saw her sitting down quietly, looking at the trees and the sky and sometimes examining her palms just wondering maybe how much time she had left. Maria was at her beck and call, 24 / 7. No hospitals yet in Asingan at that time.
She was one of the richest woman in town because of her rice mill business. She must have paid her helper very well. But Maria had to do everything related to the nursing of my grandma. She did not care anymore whether she would contact the dreaded disease, but I remember her as a very sprite and active woman. She must have loved her too very much because I never saw such devotion and loyalty.
I know she loved me, being her grandson. Sometimes, as I passed by her room, she would call out my name. Her door on such ocassions was half shut. Slowly I would step in. The room was so dark. But under the light of the shell covered windows I could see her smiling, emaciated face.
"How do you like a can of powdered milk?" She would ask me in a trembling voice.
It was a can of KLIM ( milk spelled backwards ) a brand of a powdered milk which was very popular in the Philippines at that time. It was still unopened. I would softly thank her, then would step out quietly. The powdered milk is supposed to be mixed with water. But I just took a spoon and ate the powder as is. It tasted better eaten that way. Sometimes my dad used it as a coffee whitener.
In her room, I saw several religious statues. There was the crucified Jesus, the Holy Family and there was one bearing semblance to San Vicente de Padua. I guess she must have named my dad after him. His name was Vicente Gamboa Costes. Grandma's name was Modesta and her nickname was Intay.All statues were about 2 or 3 feet tall and they were carved exquisitely out of wood. All very beautiful pieces.
There came the time when eventually my Grandma became bedridden. Everybody knew the end is nigh, they just do not know exactly when. More people came to visit her everday. She had many friends because her husband was one time the town Mayor of Asingan. Even at that time one has to be very rich in order to become the mayor of the town. He was elected easily because he was a very likable person.
But he loved pork fat. One day, before his term of office expired, he had a massive stroke and he never recovered from it. He left the business and all his assets to grandmother. She ran the rice mill until she got sick and then my dad took over.
To a 5-year old like me, the adult guests were just big people coming in and going out of our house and I did not let them disturb my daily routine of playing with my friends outside. We played all sorts of outdoor games until an adult called out to us : " Time to eat!"
Then I remembered the morning a priest came to the house and I saw him gave my grandma Holy Communion. She asked Maria for her white veil ( most women in Asingan at that time wore veils when they went to Mass ).
One afternoon, I was in the living room doing some sketching ( my favorite hobby ) . I had this tin cracker box which was big enough to store 8.5 by 11 paper, pencils and eraser. I was doing my own comic strips at that time, having been inspired by the countless Superman, Batman, Captain Marvel etc. superhero comic books owned by my elder brother. All of a sudden, I heard this wailing and pounding of feet coming from my Grandma's bedroom. I jumped to my feet to see what was the commotion was all about.
The room was packed with big people. I sat down and peered through several feet moving about. The room was already filled with crying women, all wailing at the same time. But there on the floor, I saw a sight which I could still remember up to now.
I saw Grandma, lying down on the floor ( I do not know why she was on the floor, not on a bed) . . Her eyes were wide open as if she was looking at something ( maybe some unseen spirits? ). There was no sign of fear in her countenance. It was as if she was immensely surprised by what she suddenly saw. Then a few seconds later, I saw her eyes closing, never to open again. She finally gave up her spirit.
The wailing inside the room increased in crescendo and it was too much for me. Somehow I had to go out into the living room, then down the yard to catch some fresh air. I was also crying because everybody was doing it. Once outside, I stopped crying. But I did not feel like going around to look for my playmates.
There were more people coming to the house. The agent of a local funeral home came and paid my parents a visit. The same afternoon, I saw them set up black curtains in the living room. Soon, my grandma's coffin was set up in the middle section.
That night, a portable generator was set up under the house and started giving electric power to the house the whole night. Remember this was the early 1950's and Asingan had no electric power yet at that time.
A Bingo paraphernalia arrived too. The whole house took on such a gay and festive atmosphere. I was so happy to see my cousins coming over to the house so we had all the time our games while the adults were playing Bingo or Mah Jong. An adult ( one of the close family friends or relative ) would visit, cry loudly for a few minutes then she would stop and dry out her face in a corner. Most of the ones doing it were women. There was also a big container beside the coffin where some visitors dropped in some money.
For several nights, there were the sounds of Bingo, mahjong, or card players. There were also bottomless cups of coffee, unending supply of food and dessert. The kitchen had never been that busy. As a kid I learned that dying in Asingan could be such a happy ocassion.
Then came the afternoon when the coffin was brought down from the living room for its last visit to the church. All flowers, the black curtains and other stuff ( including the Bingo paraphernalia ) dissapeared. There was a sad silence in our house which suddenly became empty except for the young children ( like me ) who were not allowed to attend the mass and the funeral.
When the funeral procession passed by, we were at the big stairway of the house accompanied by an adult. We just visited Grandma's tomb the next morning.
Then came the third night after the burial when many Filipinos believed that the soul of the dead would come back to the house where it died.
I remember that night when everyone in our house ( except some other relatives ) slept together in one part of the living room. Everyone at that time slept on the floor. The house help slept near the kitchen.
When we were young, we had a common sleeping area: a section of the living room was covered with straw mats, pillows and bed sheets and two or three mosquito nets were strung up to protect us from the ever present mosquitos who would come at night for their nocturnal blood sucking. As usual, we would chat once everyone was inside their sleeping areas. There were five children ( I am the second to the youngest ) plus my Mom and my Dad. They never slept together, not anymore anyway. Then at about 9:00 pm, everyone was silent. My dad started snoring.
That midnight, when the clock in the living room chimed 12 times , I woke up. I heard coughing inside grandma's room. I heard it legibly. It sounded very much like grandma's. I pulled up my bedsheet over my head ( like it would protect me ) and nestled close to my Mom's body. I was really not afraid what with everybody around me. There was no more sound after that and I slept like a baby until the next morning.
I asked my sister Aurora the next morning at the breakfast table. "Did you hear the coughing in grandma's room last night?"
"Yeah.." she answered.
"So she came back, she came back!" I affirmed. I sounded happy about it.
"Oh, eat your breakfast," my Mom interrupted. " We have lots of things to do this morning.."
I continued eating my breakfast in silence. At least my sister heard it too. The rest of the family, especially my dad, did not want to talk about it.
Come to think about it, my dad never talked at all when we are in the dining table---#
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