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HONORING MY MOTHER | Back to the future

MY 93-year old father must have been very happy indeed last Sunday. One may wonder, what is the one special wish that a nonagenarian always has on his mind? Answer: a visit by children and grandchildren, of course. Yet in his case, this weekend had suddenly been transformed into a double, and triple whammy treat, even.  

The first surprise included  a rather rare visit from my younger brother who lives in another city. Then came the grand parade of grandchildren, great grandchildren and the surprise arrival of his great-great grandies, with two being infants still, to complete the list. For the latter, it had indeed seem like an official introduction to their grandpa, much like one of those take-me-to-your-leader routines. 

Although our own family of three failed to make it last Sunday, I was sure that for my dad, the occasion had been special,  and that he wouldnt have noticed our absence. However, I distinctly remember on one of our many visits to the compound, he had intimated that it does indeed get lonely and silent in the big house at times, especially when no children are around.

I likewise recall years ago when he was still up and active, he would organize games for all the children in the the neighborhood during Christmas day and give them gift prizes. These kids, plus those in our family had been his joy then. When the old neighborhood was finally demolished, that only left his immediate grandies as his only source of happiness. Even then, most of them couldn’t be present always because of school, family activities, then covid, limiting their visits. It had only been now, with vaccination and an ease in regulations that a visit every two weeks for most of us had become possible. 

That yearning for the sound of tiny feet may have at least been half-answered last month, when one apo joined them in the house. Since then, this perfect rugrat has kept our old man entertained for days on end and, as my sister attests, had made him less grouchy, the undeniable trademark charm of old geezers, I know. 

Then judging from the fam photos one of my grandchildren had posted on her IG, and sent to me as private message, their visit last Sunday had indeed been a riot, in contrast to the ordinary weekdays he had complained about when not much was  happening and there were less people. 

Tis the middle of the week day, and I’m wondering what must be on our old man’s mind now? Could he still be loaded on the happy memories of last weekend, or is last Sunday’s memory now layered on top with that of many other happy weekends that reside beyond the covid back fence? 


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