November 20, 2014. It was through an urgent call from my cousin that I had to reject because I was in my first class that early morning and a text message that read “Hi dai, good morning, patay na si lola kagabie pag 10pm” that the news about my lola’s death broke to me. My heartbeat stilled for a moment. I wanted to cry, get out from the classroom and curl up in a ball in somewhere I can be completely alone. But I was 40 minutes late, and I don’t want to offend my teacher by excusing myself from the class. I had only been seated on my seat for barely half an hour. So I remained where I was, body slacked on the chair, the voice of my teacher like a distant echo to my ears while my mind wandered at somewhere else. I was trying hard to keep myself together, to repress my strong urge to just let the tears roll down, blinking my eyes every now and then to keep them from welling up.
Then
the class finally ended. I went out from the classroom quick. But then I met a
classmate from a minor subject whose classes I haven’t been attending lately, so I had to get my bearings and approach her to ask the things I missed
from the last meeting. After that, I walked on, deciding what to do next. My
next class was an hour and a half after the first one, and I still have two
classes after that in the afternoon. Part of me wanted to stay and just wait ‘til
the day is over so that I could finally mourn for my grandmother’s death, but a
bigger part wanted for me to go home, tell my mom about the news, and just be
alone at my room while I reminisce. I was torn for a while. Next
thing I knew, I was already walking outside the gates of the school, hailing
for a jeep, and sitting at the most corner part while I try to dull the ache
just a little bit longer. I wouldn’t want to have a crying spree in the jeepney
now, would I?
After
an hour, I was finally home. What met me was the sight of my mother with red
eyes and a handkerchief at her clasp, crying, and my uncle sitting on the bench
at our living room. Apparently, he just arrived from the province to deliver
the sad news to my parents and was resting from the long bus trip. I patted my
mom at the shoulder and went straight to my room. Surprisingly, the urge to cry
was gone. It was replaced by an unexpected calmness. I sat at my usual spot in
the room, and thought about what happened for the past weeks.
