I could feel the sticky jelly in between my fingers while I scraped the jelly cup clean, pretending I could taste the strawberry flavor in it.
I turned my gaze toward the roaring television that my Lolo was so engrossed in. He was on the edge of his seat as Manny Pacquiao threw a punch.
“Tua ra! Sige sumbaga! Humana!” He shouted and cheered, while his face was just inches away from the screen and no one could ever bother him.
Meanwhile, there was my Lola, sitting in her favorite chair while combing her short, wavy hair. She has a fair complexion, narrow eyes, round face, red colored nails, and what caught my attention most, was her gleaming gold and silver jewelries.
“Ma, kanak da yaang singsing mo kay masigahay,” I pleaded with a sweet smile but she was not moved by it.
Instead, she pulled out her jewelry box and got a fancy looking silver necklace with a red stone pendant.
“Kani na imo, dayai kini ha hatag dako kanmo.”
It was the fanciest thing I had that time, so I had it with pride and charm. I wore it in school, making sure my classmates will notice it and I could have the reaction I want to hear. But, I was getting conscious every time someone noticed it.
Such a fancy necklace for an ordinary day in my rumpled school uniform. Since then, I did not wear it again in school. I just hid it in my box at home never knowing when would I wear it again.
Years passed, but I could still reminisce the artificial flavor of the jelly, that I do not fancy anymore. It was a day in my summer vacation, I sat on the hammock at my grandparents’ house, but there was no more loud noise from the television, and my lolo was just there, sitting beside my grandma in her favorite chair.
As I looked at her, she’s still the Lola I annoyed all the time, but I noticed she was not wearing any jewelry. I wondered when was the last time she had her red-polished nails.
On her favorite chair and not doing any chores, she was just there doing things that required her to move only her arms. She does not even go outside for a walk or visit our homes, and she didn’t even come on my birthday.
Then, as she was reminded with the red stone necklace, “Hain da yang kulintas na hatag ta kanmo sauna?” she asked, and I couldn’t tell her that I didn’t remember where I last saw it.
I assured her that it was still with me, safe, and still the fanciest jewelry I own.
It was a visit that ended with goodbye and “See you when we’ll have the time.”
I was decluttering my things and I found the box where my red stone necklace was hidden. I could count how many times I had worn it ever since I had it, not more than five.
The day I wore it again, I didn’t mind how fancy the necklace matched with my white blouse and faded jeans. I stood proudly as I looked at my lola while showing her the necklace while she was in her deep sleep, with her eyes closed.
My memories of her remained, the lady on her favorite chair, her gold jewelry, and her necklace.
I had one vivid memory of Lola dancing, moving freely as if her body had no limitations. Her smile and graceful glances as she moved, I was there with her sharing the same sweet feeling.
She could no longer walk on her own, which was why I always found her sitting in her favorite chair.
So she was waiting for us to visit, waiting for me to show her I was wearing the necklace with the red-stone pendant.
I bid my final goodbye, holding the most precious gift she had ever given to me. It was the gift I had once been too self-conscious to wear, and now it was the one thing I wished I had worn more.
Trisha Ann Maroto was born and raised in Cateel, Davao Oriental. She is currently studying at St. John Paul II College of Davao. She is passionate about sharing notes and experiences through writing, using words to connect with and inspire others.