I was in my senior year in high school, went to college, met and dated a couple of guys (he surely wouldn’t have approved of), moved to another city, made even more mistakes there, survived a pandemic alone, moved back to my hometown years later (heartbroken), went through another self-sabotaging phase, met my husband, got my license, became pregnant, became a mother, and here we are today. So much has happened and I believe he’d have so much to say today if only he could.

I didn’t appreciate it that much back then, but sometimes I find myself longing for his wisdom and guidance. I’ve found myself in a lot of questionable situations the past 9 years and I bet that even though he’d surely get mad, he would go through lengths if not to help me, but to actually solve my problems for me. Imagine.

Now that I’m much older, I do sometimes reflect on why I am the way I am, the way I react to different stimuli, my thought processes. A lot of that has to do with the type of upbringing my grandfather fostered on me. Back then, I guess my teenage angst would instantly conclude that he probably just hated me. But as an adult, I now see it was all just “tough love”. I felt so misunderstood, when the fact of the matter was, I too, in return, misunderstood my own grandfather.

I keep praying that God removes whatever negative emotions I may still be harboring within the trenches of my heart. Some days, it’s hard. Some days, it feels like trauma from years back still have this great impact/domino effect on my current relationships. I’m still trying to come to terms with the reality that there is no one to blame, not even myself. I am the only one responsible with how I react to different situations. I am the only one in charge of my emotions. It takes a great deal of awareness, and I’m still at this point where I’m trying to “fake it till I make it”.

But when we gathered for lunch and celebrated the memory of my grandfather and his passing, it was all happiness and love. It was an intimate celebration and also, Azi’s first time around my side of the family post-baptism. He’s grown so much since then and that was apparent to everyone.

They all took turns carrying him, trying to get him to sleep (to no avail. Lol). They’d eventually give in when they started to feel their arms getting sore. Azi is what us, Filipinos term as, “purya buyag”. 😂Fortunately, despite all the passing around and baby talk, he was in one of his better moods and didn’t fuss the entire duration of the party.

He was obviously very sleepy, but evidently fought back his sleepiness, as he doesn’t get to go out that often. So being around a lot of people in a new enviornment was something he was somewhat “savoring”, despite his eyelids suddenly seeming 3x heavier. 😂

Towards the end, he did drowse off though. My cousin, Cassie, was the last who asked if she could hold Azi, and surprisingly, she was the only one who got him to sleep.