Friday, May 24, 2013

Scribbles and scrambles.

I've been at St. Luke's since Wednesday, after a really rude awakening and being abruptly summoned by my father. It turns out that our grandmother had another hip accident, very much like the one that happened to her 13 years ago. (I was seven at that time. Go figure.) With no one to watch over her, my parents decided that I'll be my grandma's guardian-slash-assistant for the rest of the week. 

I was a bit unwilling at first, especially because I had a special task waiting to be finished within the week, but a realization hit me while I was on my way to the hospital. 

I didn't want my own children to treat their grandparents with such contempt, especially since they never deserve to be treated in such a way. It was a strange realization. Our parents have taught us to respect everyone, even those who are disrespectful to everyone. It made me think, actually, about the future. One thing I would never want to impart to my children is my selfishness and stubbornness. 

When I saw my grandmother in her state and her face when she saw me, how could I possibly refuse her? She felt awful because she thought that she was becoming a burden to grandpa and to everyone. That's when it hit me again. I wanted to take care of her. Not because I didn't have a choice, but because I genuinely wanted to. 

The thought of the same thing happening to my parents... and my children... It haunted me for the rest of the week. 

Another thing I realized is that I was actually considering taking up nursing, most probably because of my unfulfilled childhood dream of becoming a nurse. 

YES, I did want to become a nurse when I was a kid. It remained my dream career until I reached my fourth grade. 

Then I discovered writing. 

Believe me, I was actually considering this, simple because I was tired of the frustration of being rejected into every school I applied into. But most of all, I wanted to care for people. I wanted to care for my parents. My family. You get the idea. 

I know I still have yet to find out the results of my entrance exam in La Salle last Wednesday, but I am very, very tired of the heartbreak. 

I guess you could say that I was enjoying myself a bit at the hospital. I feel like I'm fulfilling my childhood dream. It may not be that exact, but it actually feels amazing. Like you were born to do it. 

During my stay, I was very well-fed... Even headed to the point that I developed a case of mild LBM. Who could refuse a BK breakfast burger and a Shakey's protein pizza from the most awesome uncle in the world ever? 

There's so much more I realized, like how I wanted to converse with my (future) husband in a language that only he and I can understand. My grandparents usually converse in Ilocano and I find it very amusing even though most of the time they leave me absolutely clueless. 

Most importantly, I realized that I'm very lucky. I know that I stated that I don't believe in luck anymore, but this is something that I'm very lucky and pleased and blessed to have realized. 

Though a lot of people tell my grandmother that she's lucky to have a family who cares for her so much, in reality it's the other way around. She wouldn't have such a caring family if she herself didn't care for us. I'm pleased to say that we love and care because she loved and cared for us first. And that is something I wish to impart to my children when the time comes. 

I want to say more, but I'm afraid of a recoil. And yes, I need to go to the bathroom. 

I will blog about other things soon. Hold on! 

(Blogging through my iPod, so I expect the layout to be a little screwy.) 

~LBM girl

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