I recently saw this blogpost from Jason’s GreenPinoy.com and I kinda felt like saying the enumerated “lines” to my granny, especially #9 (the one that says if she could add me to her Friendster). My lola was hip, when she was alive, and was even named the sexiest lola in a kid’s party in Jollibee. That was my proudest lola moment ever, and I felt I was lucky to have Nanay (that’s how I call her. I call my mom “Mommy”) as my grandmother.

And then, I started reminiscing (which led to this blogpost).

Everytime people ask me if I were a Dad’s or Momma’s boy, I always answer I’m a lola’s boy. She really took care of me to the point where she even resorted to giving us (me and my two brothers) baths (of course, we were very young then) using Perla laundry soap, and forcing us to drink “pito-pito”, an herbal concoction, every night before we sleep (she said it was cheaper and more effective than milk). She never ran out of ideas, especially stuff concerning her mini-store, and our tummies. She made pudding (like cooked-in-primitive-steam-ovens type of pudding) out of leftover bread. She made high-quality polvoron. I somehow learned the tastes of food, and an intro to frying through her. She told me not to squash pepper on my hands (I was unrelenting, and I felt my hand were burning that night). If I ever got naughty, she’d hit me with a broomstick (but it didn’t even felt serious). I also remember the time when she danced to the tune of my auntie’s (she was in high school then) Manilyn Reynes song, and we all laughed because she was so cute, she looked like too old for disco songs.

But my most precious memory of her was when my Dad was in Saudi Arabia, working, and my mom and two brothers went to Bicol, for a family gathering of some sort. I remember crying at night because I really missed them. I was home alone, and for a 5-year-old preschooler who believes in vampires and monsters, I was so scared, I made Nanay awake for, I guess, two nights. One time she slept beside me, and one time, she forced one of my uncles to sleep on the floor, just to keep me company (and for someone to shield me from monsters). She pampered me so much she gave me sumptuous meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Of course, I still longed for my mom and brothers, but having her around made me feel secure, and at home.

I remember back in 2nd year high school, our English teacher asked us to narrate experiences from a dead loved one. I raised my hand, and I remember my last line, saying, “I really miss her pudding.” I cursed my teacher because saying that line made me cry.

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