Lola died today @ 8:00 pm, she's 87. She refused to die quietly as she timed it on the eve of commemorating Christ's resurrection. Earlier today, Amy the terrier dog given by a friend, died .
My lola is a "matandang dalaga", she's the last living fossil of our clan from the father's side. Describing her means tarnishing her honor- her memories. No, she's not evil nor whore. She's not just lovable. I guess, that contributes to her single-blessedness.
Having said that, I have come to realise how sad and lonely to grow old. Alone. The physical challenges, the thought of life ebbing away. The thought of 87 life long years - questions of fulfillment, happines, worthiness.
I firmly believe that it's not how long I will live, but how I lived my life. I don't want to reach my octo years full of regret. I rather die now and end my miserable life than live 80 long years of misery.
Then I thought of my mother. She loves taking care of the family's elderly, and she stresses that growing old is difficult and she fears that we, her kids, will abandon them eventually. In short, she wants us to care for them dearly when they are already old and fragile. I commend my mother for doing so. Looking at my lola, alone and feeble, is heart wrenching. I cannot imagine that a number of elderlies are in shelter because their kids won't care for them. I guess I'll be an abominable dragon if after having set a good example, and of the unconditional love, we will be cold-hearted to put our parents in shelter.
Not that I judge them, children putting their parents in shelters. It's just that my mother categorically request us not to do it, and she sets an example how to care for the elderly.
RIP, lola.
