Remembering Grandma Basali

Gone forever yet her memories linger

Right in my heart she dwells; I’ll always remember

All the days she’d lived, her love and care so tender

No matter who, no matter what, no matter wherever

Discerned the good in everyone she’d encounter

My heart falters to get the drift she’s not here

A star from the sky, she’s watching, however.

Basali, a name I ne’er would ever forget

All times with her so worthwhile spent

Sitting by the fireplace up in heaven she’d be

A beautiful angel watching over you and me

Lola’s hug, a mother’s love, or a sister’s kiss

I wish she was here ‘coz we all these miss.

It’s been a year since Grandma Basali passed away but she was always in my mind every single moment from the day she did. I’ve come to know what it really meant when people say ‘you never know how important that person is until he or she’s gone’. That’s how it feels when you love someone so much but then in an instant, they would be gone forever.

There haven’t been much time spent between my grandmother and I when I was a child, for as long as I could remember, but I do believe that my grandmother was and will always be a woman of the world — a caring and protective mother, an industrious and responsible daughter, a generous and loving grandmother, a no-holds-barred and compassionate aunt, a giving and forgiving sister, a motivating and understanding relative, a dependable and respectful in-law, a trusted and trusting friend.

Yes, that’s what the name Rosaria ‘Basali’ Naoy Capuyan holds. She may be petite but to me, she held the world at her hands. That said, I know of one thing (which my mother and father relayed to us when we were young). Grandma Basali was never one to shy away from ominous rumblings of danger or crumble down when storms of challenges rush past her. She was never one to back down. She was never a person to think of herself first before others. Never selfish. Never one to cower when bolts of obstacles strike from the heavens. Instead, she braved every raging storm, every bullet of trouble, every downpour which brought danger to her loved ones. My grandmother was that strong – a superhero in my own squinty inscrutable eyes.

I know how hard it can be saying goodbye. I’ve been through that a dozen times before. My dad, my manung Caryl, my manung Doclan, my friend Darwin, my Uncle Greg, my Uncle Rudy, my uncle Jesus, my uncle Steve, half a dozen other people I’ve come to love, and now Grandma. But I’ve never thought of them dead. Because I know that in my heart, they all still live. They’re not dead because I know that every hand they touched, every cheek they’ve pecked, every tear they’ve wiped away, every shoulder they’ve cried on, every arm they’ve brushed gave life to their memories; that they all still live in everyone who knows them.

But never again will I hear my grandma’s voice. Never again will I see those beautiful 'bolinawan' eyes. Never again will I see her get out of her seat and brave to crawl the downward path to the pigpen to feed the pigs and crawl right back up to the house while weeding. Never again will I see her hunched down uprooting my Uncle Tim's freshly planted flowers. Never again will I see her talking to the ‘seemingly moving’ images on a magazine. Lots of things I will never ever see again except when I reel back to back when. I know that she will be dearly missed and her memories never forgotten.

Grandma, the greatest reward in my life is knowing you. Nothing in the world could ever replace one second of the time I was lucky enough to spend with you. God had a special plan for you, Grandma. I think He knew that Heaven couldn't ever really be Heaven without you. I love you and cherish you with all my heart. I see you in the sunshine and I feel your presence in every warm breeze. As you sit now upon puffy clouds set against blue summer skies, keep watching over us. You are still with us all.

I hope that someday when I am able to pay the debt that all men pay, Grandma would be there standing beside St. Peter, my father, Uncle Rudy, Uncle Greg, Uncle Steve and Uncle Jesus, smiling, reaching out her hand to me and welcoming me to enter those ever-famous Pearly Gates.