Jan. 9, 2012 at 11:29am with 2 notes
selfgrandpachristmaspersonal stuff
This is the last picture that was ever taken of my grandfather and me. It was Christmas of ‘92 and I met my mother’s side of the family for the first time. Everyone was fawning over me since I was the first grandchild; giving me toys, taking pictures, and carrying me around. For an 11 month old, that’s more attention than a baby can ask for. I actually remember the day this picture was taken. It was a humid afternoon. Then again, the Philippines is always humid whatever the season. I was cranky because I wasn’t accustomed to not having an air conditioner or an electric fan handy. All the adults were busy prepping for dinner, setting up the table and cooking the food. My Papa Tico was giving me a piggy back ride in another room so I wouldn’t get in the way. Or it could’ve been that he wanted to spend all his time with me, bonding with his apo (grandkid). He fell so suddenly, even as a toddler I knew something was wrong. Help was called for and dinner was left to get cold. What happened afterwards isn’t so clear to me now, but my parents and I left because they had work and the plane tickets were non-refundable or something. That was a week or so after he had a heart attack and fell. He was bedridden and supplied with a home nurse until he died. I don’t know when exactly, sometime before my birthday (Jan. 30) though. My grandma kept a newspaper clipping of his funeral, so I’ll have to ask to see it. If I ever visit the Phils. again, I’ll probably visit his grave and pay my respects. RIP Papa Tico.

This is the last picture that was ever taken of my grandfather and me. It was Christmas of ‘92 and I met my mother’s side of the family for the first time. Everyone was fawning over me since I was the first grandchild; giving me toys, taking pictures, and carrying me around. For an 11 month old, that’s more attention than a baby can ask for. I actually remember the day this picture was taken. It was a humid afternoon. Then again, the Philippines is always humid whatever the season. I was cranky because I wasn’t accustomed to not having an air conditioner or an electric fan handy. All the adults were busy prepping for dinner, setting up the table and cooking the food. My Papa Tico was giving me a piggy back ride in another room so I wouldn’t get in the way. Or it could’ve been that he wanted to spend all his time with me, bonding with his apo (grandkid). He fell so suddenly, even as a toddler I knew something was wrong. Help was called for and dinner was left to get cold. What happened afterwards isn’t so clear to me now, but my parents and I left because they had work and the plane tickets were non-refundable or something. That was a week or so after he had a heart attack and fell. He was bedridden and supplied with a home nurse until he died. I don’t know when exactly, sometime before my birthday (Jan. 30) though. My grandma kept a newspaper clipping of his funeral, so I’ll have to ask to see it. If I ever visit the Phils. again, I’ll probably visit his grave and pay my respects.

RIP Papa Tico.

  1. dawnbo posted this