Forgiving Heart

It was no secretthat my grandfather, former Chief of Police Telesforo Tenorio, was a "ladies' man." That's subtly put.

When I was 10 years old I met a girl my age while at a party. She bragged that her grandfather was the chief of police of Manila. I told her that that wasn't possible 'cause it's my grandfather who's the chief of police, Telesforo Tenorio, married to my grandmother, Rosario. She exclaimed "That's my grandfather!" I was puzzled. I knew all of my cousins on my mother side but I have never seen her in my life. I ran to my mom and told her about the girl claiming to have the same grandfather. After my mom and her dad engaged in a subtle conversation and a few laughs, my mom told me, "She is your step cousin."  If there was ever a term, I did not understand it then. But later in my life, I would encounter people with the same last name as my middle name who would turn out to be a "distant relative." It never bothered me. In fact there is that affinity to people who I meet that somehow share my name and bloodline.

Later on, I wondered, how my grandmother, sweet and loving as she was, could have dealt with it all. It brought me to a time when I was about five years old. I happened to pick up a phone call while at my grandmother's home. The lady on the other line was furious and was speaking foul language as she asked for my grandma. I called my grandmother and she patiently listened to the other woman. Even from a distance, I could hear the other woman screaming through the end of the phone. When her ranting stopped, I will never forget the three words my grandmother said to her before quietly putting down the phone. "God Bless You."

This woman wronged my grandmother in so many ways. Crossed the line when she disturbed her home. Yet all she got was "God Bless You"? If I had half the loving, forgiving heart of my grandmother, I might end up in heaven where she is certainly now.

I miss her terribly. I always dreamt of her doing the things we used to do together like eat our favorite ube (yam) ice cream, go to Makati Supermarket and have the spaghetti, our walks in the park in our matching dusters (long comfortable dresses), the birthday parties she threw me, dental appointments together, and best of all, being cradled on her lap!

When I was twelve I sat beside her and waited for her 6:00 O'clock novena to finish. Finally, after she made the sign of the cross she told me "Hopefully I live to see you celebrate your 16th birthday." I told her "No! You'll live 'til I'm a hundred!" She passed away when I was 21. I remember taking her to the hospital one of the days I came to visit her bearing groceries. Her favorite milk, cookies, crackers, and nuts in tow. She just had stomach pains that she thought was ulcer. Unfortunately, after having been confined, she was never released. It was cancer.

So many cousins alternately kept watch over her. All of them perhaps, felt the magnitude of love my grandmother had for all of us.

The funny thing is, after all she had gone through for my grandfather, he would still be her last breath. One of my cousins told us the last few days, she would be caught talking into open space, addressing my grandfather as if he was there (he passed way ahead of her), by name "Porong, Sprite ang gusto ko." (Porong, what I want is Sprite.)

Now, that's love. No anger. No hate. Forgiven and forgotten.

For My Mom

The Hand I Hold

That hand that cradled me when I was small

The hand that reaches out each time I fall

The hand on my forehead when fevering

The hand on my shoulder encouraging

The hand that cheered in my victories

The hand that caught me in all defeats

The hand on my cheek that wiped a tear

The hand in my heart that calmed my fears

This is the hand that guided me

Throughout my lifelong journey

This is the hand I will not let go

“I’ll hold your hand mom, ‘til old you grow”

-MMGaborro