how are you paold? what’s with that blank stare? we barely talked the last time i rushed by and it had been just over a month ago. how was the arthritis? had been a pain in the ass i bet, i mean joints and all. i remember the brisk little baby steps that you’d do when walking. your hanky covering your forehead against the blinding noon light, i behind you, forced to walk in a relaxed, carefree manner careful not to outpace you while ton rushed ahead of us to the nearest shade and waited only to rush again to the next until we all reached home. you never fail to amuse me pa. you’re one heck of an old man. the smartest, wisest i’ve known. your thirst for knowledge was what i look up to, your love for numbers, general knowledge, literature. you were fond of humming classic bikol songs and declaiming poems as old as your white hair, reciting each line–spanish, english, bicol–word for word as vehemently as a theater artist. damn you knew them by heart. were you as romantic when you were young? your bicol poems, tigsik, were my favorite. you were also an expert on numbers. thing that kol nong, te lhers and dhen fell heir to, to my misfortune and mhie perhaps. you did act as my tutor for a brief week when i was in highschool, too bad i didnt share your fondness for numbers. what i did have is your humor, and ton and lab too, especially kol nong and many others. wish you could tell funny stories again, the ones abruptly paused by your loud hearty laugh. kol nong is fond of doing that too. remember your favorite dolphy show and how it summoned your thunderous belly laugh each thursday nights? that was crazy. that show and the daily news programs were shows you never wanted to miss. it was almost imperative that anyone who happened to be with you pay attention to the news too. you were hard on hearing and would oftentimes ask what the news was about all after the seemingly focused attention you give the TV. usually drew a laugh from us and a cuss from you when no one bothered to catch the news. it was amusing when you’re pissed, cursing out loud. well, you never really got angry as often and as loud as you’d curse. i like that about you. you’re as calm and as gentle as one could ever be, except when cursing. well, it was an expression, i know. i could count with fingers on one hand the number of times you had lost your temper. you always kept your cool and would rather face life in an easy, contented, comic way. almost childish even. showed a lot when you play dama, your favorite past time. i missed playing that game or at least seeing you and ton slugged it out. you really enjoyed playing it, especially each time you won–which was almost always–and then there came the all-time paold belly laugh after each match almost mocking. we also played billiards one time, it surprised me that you could pocket some balls, but then it includes angles and estimation, so why the hell did i wonder. aside from these pastimes, when not pre occupied, you would sleep. you sleep a lot sleepyhead. we used to be bedmates. as consistent as the sun’s setting were your power yawns which were half as loud as your sneeze and had about the same decibels as your belly laugh. then followed by your power snore moments later. equally bizarre were your activities like filing your finger nails with mere gillette, weekly visit to your favorite barber for your otherwise baldy head and the ceremonial application of pomada never a gel. you were also a good whistler, an extremely neat and organized person, you never stuttered, always relaxed, good conversationalist, bad listener–i mean bad on hearing, a one funny old man. not only were you an interesting person, you also possessed the gentlest of heart. never had i met someone with an ever cool temper and one who’s so thoughtful and caring. i saw how concerned you were when kol nong was sick, checking the forehead for temperature, constantly asking how he felt and all. exactly how a worried dad attends to his bunso. you showed and would show the same care and concern to any of us. i just hope you’d feel the same now that you need that same care more than ever. i was stunned when i saw you again, half the weight lost all in a month. as if something ripped your health away. our comic paold, our ever-gentle ever-loving paold. it was a shame we had to move your birthday celebration a day earlier, i mean we’re no Gloria, and your birthday was not a regular holiday or something. but then it made sense, today on your very special day, you could barely talk or recognize us anymore. it hurts rushing you now to the very place you dislike most. much more to see ton place his hand on your chest greeting you a happy birthday, the saddest greeting i’ve ever heard. nothing much i can do, holding your hand i don’t have the strength to utter even a single word. just staring at you and the cold presence of an emergency kit inside this moving vehicle. but the ominous siren is not wailing. perhaps it’s not that serious. i know. i’m fooling myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment