August 21 is my grandma Marina’s death anniversary. She was my closest lola.
I always remember my childhood with her. Just when I was starting to read well, she already booked me on my free time to read her her Ilocano Bible. She can’t read but she can understand well what is being read to her. She was a spiritual woman.
I was young then and I was unwisely opposed to the idea because it cut my playtime. I dodged her presence when I felt she is starting to preparing herself with a book in her hand. I run away when I had the chance. I was bad. But she always chose me.
I became good in scanning chapters and verses in her old bible. And I learned. I learned to pray, to put my trust in God, to share Him problems and ask for healing. I never met my lolo because he died of appendix complication when I was not yet born. It seemed lola compensated his absence by giving the best love.
Thank you lola. I know you’re up there and I miss you. I miss reading your Ilocano bible, and of course your warm hugs.
‘Til next post,