Sentimentality Is In The Air

As everyone who reads (around 5 people?) our blog can see, 2/3 of the writers (naks) are feeling a tad bit sentimental. I on the other hand is going mental. I think one of us is excited to come home and i think i speak for the whole barkada and my whole heart that i am ubermongously (new invented word) excited that you are almost back in our belovedly weird weathered, squatter ridden, trash drizzled country!!! the other part of our banana split is sentimental here bec this is her only outlet for sentimentality and i have not said this yet, but i am absoduperly thrilled when she came up with the idea of this anonymous blog months ago. I need not force myself to be sentimental today. I have been trying with great effort to avoid thinking of my Angkong, for fear of tears. He is alas, back in the hospital.

*sad face*
(pause....)

The man whom i turned to as a child when i wanted to get away with something that the yaya wouldnt let me do or eat (kropek). He would fry kropek with me in his outdoor kitchen. I would jump with delight as the colorful squares would blossom into giant crunchy oil sponges. I remember the maid scolding me for another something i did wrong yet again, and i would scream at the top of my lungs and he would run over and shout at the maid for me. Yes, he was not a teacher of right and wrong nor was he a man of discipline when it came to children. But thats why we loved him so. He speaks in half chinese half tagalog with a pure chinese accent. He can read english and can make eastern medicine. They stunk and i always had the fear that he gave me soup of dried up cockroaches. He was health conscious and very strict when it came to adults and their diets. Well, I am now wondering why I got to eat kropek when i remember my father telling me the story of how he drank cold water behind his father's back. Cold water. Because he never had it til he was in grade school. And it was such an important moment in his life that until now at the age of 59 he still rememebrs the feeling it gave him. My angkong is so health conscious that he stopped eating beef over 25 years ago, stopped eating chicken over 10 years ago, never ate fried food all his life. His diet was mainly steamed fish and lugaw. Except when we went out and ate in a restaurant, he ate all the fried things we ordered and he ate alot. But he didnt allow anyone to cook anything fried in his house.

My angkong is a character, if someone knew him well enough and had the time, they should write his life story. He is sucha character. He actually writes down every time one of his kids visits him at home and if his kids or wife says something bad he also writes it down. Everything is documented and is kept in a safe. No kidding. He puts it in his safety deposit box in the bank.

He never told anyone his age. When asked, he avoids the question by talking about something else. Not even my Ama knows his age. How can his own wife not know? Because they were set up by a match maker and the matchmaker lied about his age. She was told that he was 10years older than her but he's not.

He saved a man's life 3x. That man is Henry Sy. In the Japanese war, Henry Sy was hit by a shrapnel and was stuck in the middle of the filipinos and the japanese, my angkong went into the line of fire and saved his life. He saved his life another time and another, the 2nd time i forgot what it was about, nothing as dramatic as the war and the 3rd time my dad forgot already. But to this day he still says, without me there is no Henry Sy because without me he'd be dead! Hilarious, isnt he?

My Angkong is a man filled with regrets. I dont think he would admit this but i sure hope he regrets that he gambled. He used to be partners with SM but he took his shares so he could gamble some more. He regrets marrying my Ama, this i know for sure. Recently he said to my mom "i could have had any woman, they all wanted me because i had so much money... i guess that is destiny that i married her".

My Angkong is an angry man. My father was and angry man. And i am an angry man. We are 3 generations of anger ridden people. We react to everything with anger. This is what we grew up with, this is what we know. We know he is better when he starts shouting at people again.

My Angkong is a proud man. Strong willed and smart. Stubborn as a cow. He fights with his doctors in the hospital because he thinks he knows better. He is a writer, he writes for the chinese newspaper and he is also writing his memoirs. I am dubious about how factual the stories in that are bec he has been known to twist the truth a little to his advantage. He is a nice and generous man. He gives 500 pesos to the stranger who opens his car door for him. He still drives, at his age whatever age that is) he still drives. We have tried to give him a driver but he refuses to give up his freedom.

Well, now my angkong is a weak and frail man. All that is left of him is skin and bones, he is only 70lbs. his hair is gray and his eyes are only half open half the time. Today i find out that he is 12 years older than my Ama and so he is 90 years old. Somebody finally revealed his age. He never wanted people to know because he thought if the gods knew how old he was they would think "hey pwde na yan kunin". We would never know if we celebrated his birthday on the right date because no one knew what date it was. Today i also find out that my mom is looking for a pearl with no holes, we put a pearl with the dead. Today i also find out that my mom is looking for clothes for angkong to be buried in, they are preparing for his passing. *silence*

He is going to be operated on friday and the doctor doesnt want to give the go signal but does not have a choice anymore. His cyst is so big that his colon is almost closed. His scrotum is infected, hing lungs are weak and he is malnourished. The only thing strong is his heart. My Angkong's heart is strong. They are saying he might die on the table and if not on the table he might die afterwards due to complications. They are telling me to pray that he goes due to complications and not wait for the cancer to kill him because the cancer will be painful.

So, here i sit with my heart breaking, my spirit diminished, my head heavy with misery. I wish only for him to never feel pain again. Because as tough as he was he really hates pain, a simple poke of the needle he screams and shouts. Let him die without pain. Pls, lets just pray that he doesnt suffer any more.