The Thirty-seventh of a Dozen Verses

(September 2005 poems)
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At 90, Grandfather already knows his time is near. Every time he would start uttering these simple but dreadful words: "Malapit na 'kong mamatay [I'll be dying soon]," I'd increase the TV's volume or quietly leave the room.

I have to admit that—after two years (and counting) of having to be the one to serve virtually twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week without salary nor regular allowance as not only his caregiver but also his shock absorber and scapegoat for all his repressed and suppressed frustrations and resentments in his long life, my feelings for Grandfather has long become ambivalent. There are moments when I can understand him, when I pity him; but there are also instances when I blow my top and get seriously annoyed by him to the extent that I would sleep on the floor (we share the same bed) just so I won't see his face or hear his snore. Sometimes I wish that he finally rest in eternal peace; but then again, I also fear the big possibility that his death will certainly have a major psychological effect on me (for I will certainly be the first person to see him dying)—not that I will miss him—but that I feel the sudden change of routine after his demise will surely alter my sense of purpose. I'm caught in ambivalence and in emotional dilemma.

I really have to express my gratitude to my Muses and sources of inspiration, without whom and which I could not imagine what ways I have long been expressing all my most negative emotions.

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Here are some more waluwaluwaló – short poems of three eight-syllable lines (8-8-8) with the rhyme pattern a, b, a—all of which I wrote during the last days of Autumn. Obviously, Grandfather is the catalyst of most of the verses below. I'm sorry that my emotions in these verses had to be of this kind. "Time heals all wounds." But, do all scars go away?

Ubó na naman ni Lolo
Ang bumati sa ’kin ngayon.
D’yusko! Wala na bang bago?

Mainit yata ngayon, ah?
Eh kagabi, sobrang ginaw.
Panaho’y katakataka.

Sumasakit kanyang dibdib;
Ako yata’y ganyan na rin.
Mistula kaming nagsanib.

May kaluluwa nga ba ’ko?
Sige, ako’y kumbinsihin
Habang ako’y nalilito.

Mga kapitbahay namin,
Abala sa pagdadamo.
Kung gawa nga lang ang amin.

Dal’wang taon na’ng lumipas,
Pero iníp pa rin ako.
Naligáw ba ’ko ng landas?

Tama ba’ng aking desisyon—
Pagtuloy sa ibang bansa,
Nang matupad ang ambisyon?

Gusto ko nang magtrabaho;
Ang utak ko ay sabik na;
Para na ’kong nabobobo.

Kaylan kaya ako muling
Sasakay ng eroplano
At lalapag sa ’yong piling?

’bagal ng takbo ng oras,
Parang lakad ng lolo ko.
Lungkot ko ay dumadalas.

Si Lolo’y nananaginip,
Nagsasalita nang tulog.
Ano kaya’ng nasa isip?

Kamut dito, kamot doon—
Ganyan s’ya pag naiinis…
Ako lagi’ng sinasabon.