Atheista -

The first day of April is the day that most people use to play the meanest and funniest pranks on their friends and family members. Some websites even spread false information only to take them down the next day once they expose that it’s just their April Fools’ Joke. April 1 has a totally different meaning for me.

 

Six years ago, just twenty days before my high school graduation rites, my grandfather died after sustaining massive infarcts to his brain. He has been in the ICU for almost a week following a severe stroke. My Lolo Ben (surprise, surprise! Yes, he’s a Benjamin too! So is my dad, my other (late) Lolo and my brother) is no stranger to brushes with death. He once underwent a cranial surgery to remove blood clots that he got after he fell off his motorcycle.

 

I was extremely close to my Lolo Ben. He was the first one who attempted to teach me how to write. Thanks to him, I have been writing my name (my loooong name) since age 2. He has a weird way of writing – it’s almost like he writes another line over an already existing once thus creating a double stroke effect. Lolo Ben wasn’t only my teacher, he was also my talent manager, publicist and all-around pimp. The first thing that came out of his mouth whenever I was around was how smart I was or how I can name the capital, largest city, languages and currency of virtually any country. He was fun to talk to regarding geography because he did work in an American Base before and he has a lot of brothers who worked as seamen. Mind you, these things happened before I even turned eight.

 

Just like everyone you grow up watching (Ernie Baron, Frankie Evangelista et. al.), my lolo seemed immortal. Well, maybe not immortal but it seemed like he was headed for a really long life. The morning of April 1, we were told that we were going to the Makati Medical Center – to take Lolo Ben home. I knew he was still in the Intensive Care Unit. Nobody from the ICU leaves the hospital just like that. I knew something was up.

When we got there, the other members of my family who were there broke the news. Lolo Ben was already brain dead. He’s only being kept alive by the medication that is keeping his heart pumping. His blood pressure is hovering at the 20s and it’s only a matter of time before the drugs that’s extending his life are rendered useless. It was a lost cause. And my family was now faced with the reality of having to sign a Do Not Resuscitate order. Surprisingly, only two people blocked the idea – a then whiny 15 year-old high school senior and a drug-dependent bum in his mid 20s. What a combination! Needless to say, I was in the wrong crowd.

 Good thing Lolo Ben was considerate. While a heated debate was going on outside, Lolo Ben peacefully breathed his last. Even in death, he was still being kind to all of us.

 

 

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