Mano Po, Lolo

I've been having creepy dreams about my dead grandfathers lately.

The one with Lolo A, my sister and I were pitching at each other like mad dogs at my apartment, and he was trying to play the referee. He talked to us calmly that we had to stop fighting, and that the older one should be more understanding and patient, etc etc, just like how he spoke to us when he was still alive. He was dressed in his barong, the same one he wore at his funeral. Yayks.

Then just last night, I had a dream about Lolo C. My whole family was at our old house in the province. He was lurking outside, heavily drunk, and we didn't let him in. My older sister was sitting at the dining area, beside the window. It used to have screens, but in the dream, there were just the grills. Then grandpa suddendly popped out of nowhere, outside the window, carrying a huge syringe with 2 long needles and bloody-red fluid, and stabbed it right on my sister's neck! We thought my sis was dead, but she seemed calm. Then I checked her eyes, as if looking for dust or dirt, and saw that her eyeballs were severely burned... No idea how and why it got so gruesome. (maybe because I overate the night before...had Japanese buffet... so blame it on the sushi? hehe)

Sad to say, but I was only close to Lolo A. He was youthful and so full of wisdom, that's why all the grandkids and great-grandkids loved him. I remember coming home from the university, with a pint of avocado ice cream for us to share. He really loved small gestures. And he would start teasing my grandma, making all the nasty oh-my-god-this-ice-cream-is-so-
delicious looks (grandma was diabetic). He was my late-night-tv buddy. He was an insomniac. Other times, he would try to get me to go with them to their church -- he was a devout Protestant. So many wonderful memories of Lolo A.

I really didn't know Lolo C that much, but I remember the kind moments when he stayed at our place for a few months. He would really try to look after us when my parents were away. I recall asking for his help while writing an essay for my English class in high school, and he did so gladly. He was a master of words -- he was the one who wrote my sister's and cousin's praise-worthy valedictory speech; and a brilliant artist -- they used to have realistic paintings all over the house, all done by him. But he was usually by himself, reading the bible or listening to a Catholic station on AM radio. He was a traditional Catholic. A generous tipper. I really wish i had known him better before. Maybe I'll get mama to talk more about Lolo C the next time I come home.