Lolo Aryo

NOTE:  Guys, I know this blog is super long, but please, do take the time to read it.  I just want my Tatay’s legacy to live on, and see what a good man he was on his time here on earth.  Thank you.
Almost all of my fondest childhood memories included my Lolo.   While my parents worked during the day, they took on the role as my own parents.  As a matter of fact, they took on the parental role not only to me, but my cousins as well, as their parents worked during the day.  I was told by my tita  that my lolo would cry whenever my papa  would spank my brothers  and I.  She said, they didn’t like to see us get spanked, but they couldn’t help us, because they didn’t want to interfere with my papa’s way of disciplining  us.  I remember my Lolo  waking my cousins  and I up at 5 in the morning everyday to eat breakfast .  Then, he would walk us up to the tricycle  arrived.  And after school, he would be in the same spot waiting for us as we got off the tricycle—sometimes even in a raincoat and umbrella when it was rainy, and walked us home.  I remember when I was still young, he taught me how to sing “Eli eli” tulog anay wala diri imo nanay bakal sa tyange imo tinapay eli eli tulog anay.  I also remember when he would watch his wrestling on tv.  He would shout at the tv and get all heated up whenever the wrestlers fought.  I remembered Jake the Snake Roberts, Macho-man Randy Savage, and Sean Michaels.  I remembered when he also built a huge makeshift tree house playground so that my cousins, and I could play on it.  He made a monkey bar, a swing,  and for some reason I remember a slide, but I can’t remember if he made it on his own.  Then, as us kids would play on it during the day, my Lolo would chop coconuts and make us drink the juice & eat the meat.  He loved us.  He loved us dearly.  And we loved him too.  We adored our Lolo .  The one thing I will never, ever get tired of is hearing him tell us all about his WWII days.  He claimed he never had the heart to torture or kill any of his enemies, but watched his friends do it, and at one point.  He can tell his war stories for hours at a time while we sat around listening.  I am so thankful that he made it out alive, for if it wasn’t for him, there wouldn’t be a Joy.  We all grew up to adore our grandparents as if they were our very own parents.  But as lolo  started to get weaker, our concerns started to grow.  He was never the type to complain or show any pain.  He was always strong and never asked for anything.  He always told us that he was okay, and that we should take care of us instead.   my cousins  and I would fight over taking care of  Lolo.  He was considered the “easy” one to take care of.  And when the nurses would come in to check up on him, he would always introduce us as his granddaughters and start to cry.  He would tell them that we love him so much because we were taking good care of him, even in the hospital.  He would tell them that we had to sacrafice a lot of stuff just to take care of him.  But in all reality, we didn’t mind at all.  We would never be anywhere else rather than in that hospital room by his side.  But as his final day came to a near, it was hard to see him like that.  It was hard to hear him whimper in pain at the slightest touch.  The day before he had passed, my counsins and I watched lolo.  I remembered the moment when I just knew that I couldn’t take it to see my lolo  like this anymore.  A nurse had came into his room to insert another IV in his arm.  I was on one side of lolo  holding his hand & my cousin  was on the other side holding his other hand.  As the nurse preped him up for his IV, he started to yell and cry and scream in pain.  I saw the look in his eyes that he couldn’t bear the pain as he squirmed in his hospital bed, and that was the reaction he made when the nurse only swiped his arm with an alcohol swab.  As the nurse began to insert the needle, his yell became more intense, his mouth was open as if he was trying to cry but no sound came out, and he started to squeeze my hand in pain.  He just couldn’t take it anymore.  And that’s when I couldn’t take it either.  I began to cry right there by his side.  I knew something was not right.  Somehow, I felt the same way he felt whenever we got spanked by my papa.  I felt so helpless as he cried in pain.  I wished that I could’ve done something to lessen the pain instead of just holding his hand and letting him squeeze it and caressing his head.  I just felt that it wasn’t enough.  I just couldn’t stand to see my lolo suffer like this.  And that very next morning, he passed quietly in his sleep.  He passed away the way everybody wished to go—at peace, in a warm bed, as they slept.  When I first learned of his passing, and when I first saw him on the bed I nodded my head.  It was my way of telling him that it was okay for him to go.  There would never be anymore IVs, needles, tubes, and nebulizers.  I never in a million years thought that I would react that way.  I thought I would just lose it.  I thought I would punch the walls, pull my hair & scream curse words at the sky, but I didn’t.  In a way it was a huge relief.  Now my lolo  won’t have to suffer another day.  But on the other hand, how can we shake off the fact that we will never be able to see our lolo  again?  I understood though, I have no hard feelings towards his death, but understanding.  I understood  that he is now free.  He is now happy.   And he is in a peaceful place where he belongs.  He was a wonderful man, and he will always be that wonderful man immortalized in our hearts and in our memories.  He was a great husband,grand father,grand father,grandfather.  But to us, he is lolo.