Family: My Maternal Grandmother

Whenever I think about losing someone, I am reminded of the day my maternal grandmother (or Nanay as we call her) was hit by an owner-type jeep and was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. It was the first time I really understood what it felt like to have a loved one be taken away from you. I could say that it was the saddest day of my life so far.

The year was 1994 and I was 10 years old. My sister was celebrating her 15th birthday and I had a short exchange of words with Nanay about it that morning (I could not call it a conversation because that was all it was, an exchange of words), not knowing that shortly after lunch, she was to be taken away from me. From our whole family.

Days after her funeral, I found myself walking into the old house and calling out, "Naaa-nay? Naaa-nayyy? Nanay?" as I had been accustomed to. It happened several times and each time, it took a while for me to snap back to the reality that she was gone. In one instance, my uncle heard me and hushed me, "Little, Nanay is dead..."

You know how when you are having a bad dream and the pain is so real until that moment when you realize it could just be a bad dream, and you decide to just go with the flow of events while willing yourself to wake up? I have had moments like that even years after Nanay died. I would think of Nanay and wish God has made a mistake and that He will give her back.

I did dream about Nanay, especially within months after she passed away. But she was always alive in my dreams; she was even cleaning the old house in one of them. "I had a vacation from heaven," she told me as she applied wax on the floor.

It was only recently that I dreamed of Nanay not being alive. It was her funeral and I was crying like I did during the real funeral but I felt peaceful in that dream. When I woke up, I knew that I have finally accepted that Nanay's stint in this lifetime really ended 17 years ago.

I have let go of Nanay's physical presence but that does not mean I do not miss her anymore. I do still miss her, especially when we have family reunions. I may not see her physical body anymore but I still feel her presence. When I am inside the old house or at the farm, her presence lingers and it is not the spooky kind. Indeed, death cannot kill what never dies. As her granddaughter, she touched my life and will be a part of it, of me, forever.

Letting Go

So, how do I expect to go about this process of letting go? I have read several articles that tackle the so-called art of letting go and I agree with most of them. I especially associate myself to those who believe that letting go does not mean getting rid of parts of you or your life - be it a person, thing, feeling or idea.

It is not attachment that hurts us but detachment. Some take this as a precaution to never be attached to anything in order to avoid loss. But I don't buy that. How else can you experience life without attachment? I think it is necessary to be attached, to hold on to every person or thing that life gives us. We should embrace and experience fully whatever is right there in front of us at each moment, and then when it is time for you to leave or be left behind, do not fight it.

At the bottom of letting go is not detachment but acceptance. Acceptance for what once was, now is and probably will be.

This blog sums it up in four words, accept that "like before is gone."

Foreword

I used to have a blog with the same title and tagline as this one, which i deleted in 2007. I am reviving it now in an effort to document the befores in my life that were gone - temporarily or for good, I am not sure.

During the time when I started the original blog, I was thinking of coming out with a book in the process. The book would be about all the stuff of life that were taken away from me - things, pets, friends, loved ones and even time as well - by someone, over time, out of mistake, due to selective amnesia or by forces of nature.

I am not one to dwell in the past but I value the ~experience. So here I will try to document my memories of the lost and eventually learn to let them go completely. Wish me luck.