Last night, or this early morning after my alarm went off and I drifted back to sleep, I had a vivid dream of my grandfather again. I never saw him in my dream this morning, but I saw my grandmother, some aunts that I know I never saw but know them to be them, and a man that I could pass by as the “priest” or the “doctor.” In the dream, we were all sitting in a corner and then the man came and announced that my grandfather was dead. I saw myself really crying. I cry. I cried so much! I felt pain. Then I realized, in that same dream, that I must be dreaming – because my grandfather has been dead for years now.
Then I woke up. I woke up 20 minutes later after the first alarm went out at 20 minutes past 6 in the morning.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Armand looking at me and immediately asked me what was wrong. I said that I dreamt of my grandfather again with that dreary look in my eyes. I told him that a few nights ago, he was also in my dreams.
I dreamt about him scolding me for doing something wrong. I now cannot remember what it was about clearly, but I think it had to be something I did bad. In my dream I also told him that he already died, then he became silent. And I woke up.
I am wondering why my grandfather is visiting me in my dreams right now. What I know is, he had always been there for me when I was growing up. He was my father, when my own was not there and had been long gone. He took care of me and became my first fan. He silently sat at a distance at church everytime I was tasked as the reader or commentator, or if I had to speak infront during special occassions. I saw him flash with pride everytime my name was being called. He had always believed in me.
He shared my passion for reading, and for watching news and documentaries on tv. He taught me how to be “smart” when it comes to money! When I was in college and a Department of Science and Technology Scholar, I was given a monthly stipend by the National Government of the Philippines. Everytime I ran out of money, I would run to my grandfather and loan from him. He was worst than those who offers 5-6 or whatever it is that they term people who loans money in the Philippines.
Why worst? If I borrowed 100 pesos from him, he asked me to pay back 200 pesos. If I borrowed 250 pesos, he got 500 pesos in return. If I borrowed 500 pesos, he took back 1000 freakin-pesos from me! Thus, everytime I ran to him, he would immediately give me that biggest smile and ask “Do you need money?”
I remembered somebody asked him once why he gave immediately to me, and not to them. He answered: “Because she pays well.”
Oh yes, I really did.
I miss my Lolo Mario very much! Love you ‘Lo.
Lolo (Filipino) – Grandfather