Four years ago, I got a phone call that changed my life forever.
Actually, the truth of the matter is this:
I was watching One Tree Hill with my then room mate and still BFF Mutya. We were deeply engrossed in this particular episode, though now I wouldn't be able to tell you which episode it was, and it was quite unfortunate that my phone was on silent mode since we had arrived about half an hour ago from our film class.
Mutya's phone rang somewhere in the middle of the episode. She answered it and, within the space of a few minutes, her expression changed and she glanced at me with sadness written plainly all over her face. And in that moment, I knew.
The tears came unbidden, rushing down my cheeks; I took the phone automatically as Mutya handed it to me. And I sat there, listening to my boyfriend tell me that my grandfather, my Lolo Joseph was gone.
This happened four years ago, but I still remember it so clearly. I remember getting the details from Macky, then taking the opportunity to phone my mom and my sister and whoever else I could reach in the family. I remember Bianca getting off the phone with her mom, and the hugs she and Mutya gave me as I started crying.
And I remember how it felt like a part of me was broken off just to know he was gone.
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Four years ago, I flew home and walked into the middle of a mass.
I was dressed in white, as we had all agreed. And it was a little embarrassing to walk into the middle of the entire affair. But I did it for my grandfather. And I did it for my family. It was the best comfort I could have found in that particular time.
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Four years ago, there was a week or so of mourning.
It was a week of white clothes and meals that left me stuffed, a week of family and friends and memories and moments. It was a week of tears and smiles and prayers and letting go. Though the specifics have blurred as the years passed, what I do remember is this: it was a week of solidarity in mourning one amazing man.
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Four years ago, the world lost one spectacular man - my grandfather, Lolo Joseph.
There are still not enough words in the universe to describe how devastating an event losing him was. My grandfather was an incredible man. He inspired me with his dedication to making the province better, with his drive to achieve better, with his unspoken encouragement, pride and love in me and all the rest of the family. He was stubborn; he was tenacious; he was happy; he was generous; he was doting; he was heroic in my eyes; he was the best.
Though he's gone, I do my best to live my life in a way that would make him proud. My move to the USA, my adventures in New York, learning to stand on my own two feet, cultivating a cultured, independent and intelligent personality - these are all things that I truly believe would make him proud.
I miss you Lolo. I know that you're happy where you are.