A few steps away from100

I had mentioned in my last post, I’m back home for the holidays for the first time since 5 years and its such a strange feeling. One of the few things I did back home (besides stuff my face with American fast food) was visit my grandparents. This year, my grandfather makes 95 and the last time I visited him was some time last year, a month before his birthday.

One of the reasons why I long to go home is actually because of my grandparents. Not just because they're reaching their elderly stage where anything could happen, but also because majority of my childhood was spent with my grandparents (more so than my own parents). I started living with my grandparents during my 2nd year of elementary school. At the time, they were living in a different town that was quite a drive away from my school so my sister and I had to wake up earlier than most of our classmates just for our grandfather to drop us off in time. I wish I had my sleeping schedule from when I was a kid, at the age I am now. I miss being able to wake up at 6am and not fall back asleep. But then again, my grandmother was the one who would shake us awake in order to get up (Haha).

I even remember the awful car that my grandfather drove to get us to school. It was an extremely faded red (so faded that the color could have passed for lilac)1986 Honda prelude; the one with only two doors and you had to pull the lever by the drivers seat in order to get to the back. Not exactly the top of the line child-safe car out there, but my grandfather really loved driving it everywhere. As a kid, I hated that car...a lot. I use to think it was so loud and distasteful, add on the fact that my grandfather would blast Filipino polka music when pulling up to the curb side at school to drop us off. It was beyond embarrassing because I used to be teased a lot for it.

I think back to those days now in my mid 20’s. How active my grandpa loved to be when I was in elementary school. He especially loved to go fishing, which worked out really well after he would drop us off at school in the morning. After dropping us off, he would drive to the beach and spend hours fishing. There were countless times his car smelt like salt water when coming back from the beach though. And I’ll never forget the time he accidentally left his catch of the day in the trunk and forgot to bring it out. The smell didn't go away for a whole week.

If it wasnt fishing, he liked to drive to my cousin’s house and talk story with her grandparents. Often times he’d ”drop off” oranges or fruits as an excuse to talk with them And end up spending hours just talking or reminiscing. If it wasn’t fruit then of course he’d share his fish that he’d caught.

Although my grandfather was social, he was strict and often held up a cold front. Or at least he way he spoke made him gave off that sort of aura. He rarely ever smiled And often wore a stern expression. Sometimes I feel like he rarely put in any thought to the words he would say (although English was his second language). I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid of him as a child. But thinking back to it, it was more of the way he spoke English that made him seem scary. He was blunt, never sugarcoated anything (not like he could anyway since his English was limited) and his sentences always had a crescendo to them when he spoke. Now that Im older I actually found the way he spoke to us amusing and endearing.

Every year when I come back to my hometown, I try to visit him as much as my schedule allows me to. And every year I can see drastic changes in his appearance from old age. It wasn’t that bad in his 80’s, but when he turned 90 there were significant differences. It was especially sad to know hear that he could no longer drive or go fishing. I was told that he sold his car and became bed bound and even began to lose his memory. Two years ago he started having dementia and even forgot who I was when I came back. One day I asked him:

”Grandpa, I’m graduating next year. You’re coming to my graduation in Tokyo, right?”

To which he stared at me, with his usual naturally angry looking face and said with a boxy smile, “I don’t know. I might die. But take plenty of photos so that you can remember me.” Crescendo in his voice and all.

Hearing him say that broke my heart... a lot. But I couldn’t cry in front of him, nor my aunts and grandmother. That wouldnt have been what he wanted. So I laughed it off and scolded him haha. I liked seeing him awkwardly smile about me scolding him. I wanted to show him that I could still be lively. We shot this photo of the three of us Before I left for Japan again.

his hair made him look like a shark fin so I nicknamed him baby shark whenever I told my friends in Japan about him and the silly things he would say. Happy to hear that he has some new fans (:

My grandfather couldnt make it to my graduation last year. In his place, my aunt came along with my immediate family and took a lot of photos and videos of the ceremony to show my grandparents. They’re both getting at that age where their health is just not at their peak anymore. Where they need more than just wheelchair assistance at the airport. Navigating with two elderly people in a bustling city let alone a different country like Japan wouldn’t have been a wise choice. I sucked it up and made sure to take plenty of photos to show them after. It was a shame that they couldnt see me dress up in Hakama or regalia during the ceremony.

The people I really wanted to show my degree to were my Grandparents. I think they were the ones that really believed in me when I said I wanted to study the arts in Japan. I was never pressured by them to go into the medical field or accounting (like how my dad wanted). And never made me feel bad for doing what I wanted to do. My grandmother was especially very vocal about believing in me. Always telling me to have fun and study hard. My grandfather was not as vocal but he always liked to see what I had to show him. He would just smile.

I think what really hurt me was when I came back last year after getting my degree. My grandfather was starting to get dementia and his irises began to fog making his eyesight worse. I remember walking into the front door and saying hello to him as usual. My other aunts and my grandmother were present at the time. They were all rejoiced to see me back from Japan and showered me in warm hugs and cheek kisses. The only one that didn’t join the festivities was my grandfather, who sat at the dining room table and stared, asking my aunt who I was. Maybe its because it had been over a year since he saw me, or maybe he had just been dealing with keeping up with his elderly body that he forgot about who I was. But again, I couldnt show him how much it hurt to hear him ask who I was. Instead I scolded him while laughing again saying ”Its me! Your favorite grandchild! How could you forget me you were the one who dropped us off after school all the way in a different town?” It took a few tries and a little help from my aunts for him to say and remember my name, going back and forth between asking him ”Grandpa, what’s My name?”. But eventually It clicked after a few visits again. I didn’t want him to feel bad for forgetting. I kept laughing and being cheery so that he wouldn’t worry. I wanted him to remember me smiling at the least.

Now I’m back again this year after longing to come back home for so long. I was teetering between wanting to come home because I should spend more time with my aging grandparents But also feeling like I shouldn’t be back because the virus easily attacks their weak immune systems. Its scary going out to do errands or even attend family parties because you never know who has gotten into close contact with who, or what in this case.

I was at least happy to know that when I was able to visit my grandfather this year, he easily recognized me even with a mask on. I was so prepared to have to retrain him into remembering my name like last year but as soon as he saw my face he broke into a really big boxy grin again. My first visit was short. I held his hand while he watched tv outside. They were cold but the silence between us was comforting. He cant speak anymore (or at least with his booming voice like the old days), and you have to get your ear really close to him since he speaks in a whisper. Another thing is that his English is even worse since he hadn’t used it with his grandkids in such a long time. Factor in old age and you have an old Filipino man trying to speak in his second language. I could never speak any filipino dialects and my grandmother nor my parents taught me growing up. I knew phrases and words that I’d hear from my aunts but never could string together a conversational sentence. In those short days that I visited him, it was the most that I attempted to speak in a language that wasn’t Japanese or English. But Hey, if I could master holding a conversation in Japanese, and now even getting into learning the Korean language since the start of this year, I was sure that I could be able to learn a few phrases or terms to say when speaking with my grandfather. I think its quite ironic though. Even if he’s old and needs the most help to do even simple things like drinking water, he still is able to offer me a couple grapes to snack on from his plate at 95, just like how he would do with me 20 years ago at 75.