"If Mang Juan has 3 chickens, 2 cows and 4 pigs, how many animals does he have in his farm?” Ms. Judith echoed through the microphone. After the question, she stated the multiple-choice answers. I added the numbers mentally and wrote down letter A which corresponded to 9 in my answer sheet. That medium category question was followed by another and then another; and I answered all of them correctly. After the contest I searched the crowd for my Nana (a term I use to refer to my grandmother for I think lola is too corny) and was surprised that she wasn’t there. My yaya was the one who took me home, and I rushed inside to tell Nana the good news. I called out for her name, searched all around the house and asked where she was. She wasn’t home yet and she didn’t come home that night. I waited another day to find out where she was. She was rushed to the hospital after falling from our dining chair. I asked why and what happened to her. My aunt told me she had a stroke, a sickness I was still unfamiliar with. Another day passed and Nana still hasn’t come home. As I walked with my aunt coming from the store, I asked her if I can visit Nana and see how she’s doing. She said I can’t because Nana stayed in the ICU where kids are not allowed. I found it funny, if she’s in the I can see her then why wasn’t I allowed? I didn’t get it at all. I was angry because I felt they just made up the rule so that I couldn’t see Nana. I waited for them to take pity on me and allow me to come to the hospital, but that didn’t happen. Nana didn’t come home for a long time. She did come home one day, but she wasn’t the same. My Nana who used to fetch me in school, make me breakfast, review me in all my lessons was now bedridden and paralyzed. She was in a wheelchair, her head was tilted and her eyes knew no one. She stared at me for so long, as if she remembers yet she seemed so far away. Her eyes knew no recognition, it expressed no misery as if she doesn’t know she’s home already. She spoke in a garbled voice saying words I couldn’t make out. She was like a baby except it made me scared. I felt fear and extreme misery at the same time. Where was my Nana? Where was my energetic, happy-go-lucky and loving Nana? What happened to her? I longed for her to come back, to be her old self again. But the days were followed by her tantrums and fits. I saw her frustration when she couldn’t tell us what she really means and if she doesn’t get what she wants. She mixed up everybody’s names except mine. She recalled me instantly after her brief moment of amnesia. I stayed with her throughout her therapies. She had numerous therapies for things like speech and muscle movement. I could always see her determination during those sessions and I knew that deep down inside her mind lies my Nana, the Nana I knew well and loved. She’ll be back and she’ll get well.
I was only 6 years old when this happened and yet I felt like twelve. My classmates knew nothing of what I was going through. My teachers would always ask me how my Nana is, and I could see in their faces the pity they had for her. They must’ve thought it was too much for me, it was but I got used to it as time went by. I went on with my studies without my Nana, I still won the academic contests but it wasn’t the same. No matter how much awards I amassed, it will not make her feel better. I did show them to her, thinking somehow it will help her get well. I wanted to make her feel that I was still there, her little Jamie eager to solve math problems, spell out words just to make her proud of me.
This experience helped me to be more mature in a way. Young kids have this idea that when you cry, you will usually get what you want. I didn’t. Even though I wanted to throw tantrums and cry so that Nana will get better, it wouldn’t help. Every time Nana would throw a fit, or shout really loud I would get scared. Scared that it will worsen her condition. I learned to understand her during her times of desperation albeit I was still 7 or 8 years old. There were times when I would play in the streets with my neighbors and Nana would get tantrums again that all the neighbors will hear, I would go back to the house and attend to her. I felt unconditional love so strongly at a very young age. I knew the value of my elders, the concept of repaying their love for me with my love for them.
Because I was the eldest granddaughter, I was the one who explained to my cousins as to why Nana acted like that. It was hard for I didn’t also know why. Whenever Nana would yell at us, it made my cousins cry but I, inspite of my tears, would still smile and give her high-blood medicine. Then I would turn to my cousins and tell them not to get angry at Nana instead try to understand her condition. They would say it’s unfair but I would always respond saying…
“Ganyan talaga, may sakit si Nana eh. Hindi niya alam kung ano ginagawa niya. Huwag kayong magagalit sa kanya.”
I honestly despise people who take their grandmothers or grandfathers for granted. I hate it when people just place their elders in shelters and not mind them at all. If they only knew how hurt I was when Nana got sick and how much I want her to get better so that we can play again. I was never ashamed whenever I would accompany Nana for a walk around the streets. I didn’t mind if she was slow or if people would look at us.
I knew I had to be strong for myself, Nana and others. I must do everything in my power to handle the situation responsibly. It also taught me to rely everything to God. He has never faltered and was always there for my Nana and me. I am thankful that Nana is still around, although she never recovered one hundred percent, she is now able to walk and speak. She has taught me so much, not just for my math contest but also for living my life as well. I never regretted being there for her in her times of trouble and when she most needed me.
Sometimes I would think I am still that Grade one student coming home to show her 1st place medal to her grandmother. I would imagine Nana carrying me up her arms and saying I’m so good. Sometimes I wish she didn’t get sick that day. But it all comes down to how much I love her. She has taught me so much even without speaking.
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