a call from six feet under

last night, my sister dreamt about my grandma.

my grandmother died when i was 6, i think, and the last time i saw her, she was sitting happily and peacefully in their house's balcony, bidding us goodbye. we were on our way to pangasinan, and it had been a habbit to drop by my grandparents' house first before we head off to the northern realm. she looked very healthy that day, so we never had an inkling that she could pass away within the next three days. but she did, it was all so sudden. next thing we knew, we were rushing inside my granparents' well-lit house. i've never seen that house, or any house, lit that way and surrounded by so many people i've never seen before. it was strange. it was like a really gloomy fiesta. i watched my mom and my older sister cry and wail, but at that time i didn't understand why.

that was the first encounter i had with death.

not that death hasn't attempted to lure me before. i was born a sickly child. just like all grandmothers, mine was a very superstitious one. she said getting sick was my way of protesting against my name, so, to appease me, she deemed it necessary to change my nickname from gracee to ningning. miraculously, i stopped getting sick immediately after.

that wasn't the last time she tried to save my life. sometimes, growing up in such a fascinating world could have adverse effects to a curious child. you know, my hobby of poking an electric socket with a pin or landing heavily from a steep stairway fall could seriously injure me, if not kill me altogether. but thanks to my grandma who would always come to my rescue seconds before i see the light at the end of the tunnel. she would angrily scold me after for always being that close to danger. there were even times she was tempted to spank me; my grandmother never spanked anyone her whole life.

when she died,i didn't even cry, even when everybody was while she was being burried six feet under. i guess at that time i didn't understand the finality that comes with death. for me, the funeral was no different from that day we came to her house to bid her goodbye. it's just "see you later" right, christians? we believe so much in heaven and yet we consider a natural death a mishap. maybe i didn't understand. or maybe i did more than anyone else.

it wasn't until many years later that i cried for many many hours because i miss my grandmother so much. if you think about it, the whole goobye thing isn't supposed to be as sad as it is, because it isn't exactly the parting of ways that hurts. it's the sudden and unwanted changes in the lives of the people left behind that cause the pain. when you can't see them anymore, talk to them anymore, or when they can't scold you anymore for poking an electric socket. of course how i deal with a loved one's death now has changed a lot. for one, i cry now. but it's not because i understand better, it's because i don't. in the process of growing up, i lost a very valuable lesson, and it's not about heaven. it's about not getting too attached to anything or anyone.

last night my sister dreamt about my grandma. it was weird that it had to happen a few days before november 1, when i was trying to beg off from going to the cemetery along with millions of others. for my mom, it couldn't have come at a better time. she found a compelling reason to drag me out of my bed at 4a.m.

i don't know exactly how the dream went, but my sister said my grandma had three messages. first, she was telling my sister how poorly her house is being maintained. then she asked my sister to tell my mom to never entrust her keys to anyone. and finally she asked, "how's ningning?"

what do you want me to say, grandma?