How Two Losses Reaffirmed My Value in Family
- Kharla Grace
- Mar 19, 2020
- 4 min read
Updated: Apr 20, 2020
Family is the most important value my mother instilled in my generation. She knew how fraught familial relationships in our family became when pride and stubbornness got in the way. My mother witnessed how unresolved issues and anger destroyed relationships and created fractures between them. She refused to see my generation repeat their history.
Throughout my childhood, I was raised alongside my cousins. Our house was divided into three sections to represent three out of five of my grandmother’s children: Reynaldo, the eldest; Zaldy, the second eldest; and my mother, the youngest daughter. It wouldn’t be until after my mother, my sister, and I immigrated to the United States, that my mother’s eldest sister, Daisy, would take over our part of the home. I distinctly remembered our house was always full of joy and laughter because it was a full house. There were childish games of Langit Lupa, late-night drinking and karaoke sessions, and lively family gatherings.
As time went on, I was slowly integrated into the larger Cardenio family, my grandmother’s maiden family. We hosted, more often than not, annual Cardenio family reunions as a way to unite my grandmother’s siblings’ families. There were seven of them, which we had to assign colours for each family to prevent confusion. It was exciting to be part of a larger community beyond myself. I thought it was touching to see how connected we all were.
Because of this upbringing, I didn’t quite discern the idea of your main family versus extended. In my eyes, there was only family. My aunts and uncles helped my parents raise me and it was also because of them that I became the woman I am today. Even though over the past five years we had slowly drifted apart since the last time I went back home in 2015, I knew that we always loved each other. It is for this very reason why losing both my Tatay Reynaldo and Aunt Daisy was even more painful.
When I planned my Philippines trip back in January of this year, I was under the impression that I would make it in time to see Tatay. He had rapidly grown ill in the prior two years following his end-stage kidney failure diagnosis. The last few months of 2019 saw him in an even worse state than what any of us imagined. He couldn’t eat or breathe on his own, and he had to be confined to the hospital for months.
Tatay in Tagalog means father, and that is exactly what he was to me. He was like my father. He was patient with me, would do anything to make me laugh, and protected me from the dangers of the world. It breaks my heart knowing that when he passed late in December, I hadn’t seen him for five years. The last few memories I have of him consist of my grandmother, mother, cousins, and me crowding around an iPhone X Max weeping and pleading with him to garner enough strength to be discharged from the hospital. But I’ll always remember him making sure I was covered when riding his Owner Type Jeep through the humid rains of Manila, turning on the air conditioner in his room because he knew how sensitive I am to the heat, and making the silliest faces just to make me laugh when I’m in one of my moods.
That same trip allowed me to see my Aunt Daisy. At the time, we were already aware of the infection in her foot due to her diabetes. We thought the doctor was able to stop the infection indicating she was safe from further harm. When she came out of her room, tears were building in her eyes at the sight of me. Not only did we not see each other for five years, we hardly talked over the phone. Her tears were disrupted though when I handed her supplies to help treat her infection instead of something more in line with her expectations. My cousins and I laughed about it, and so did she. I didn’t know that would be the last time I would see her. She just passed last week during what was supposed to be a routine leg amputation to prevent the infection from spreading throughout her body. I read my mother’s text while I was sitting in the office, and I couldn’t believe it was the truth. All I could hear was her laughter when she would drunkenly dance and all I could see were her beautiful, tight curls perfectly framing her beaming face.
In light of these two very personal losses that hit our family, it brought some of us closer together. Some ongoing minor feuds and disagreements that caused estrangement had to be pushed aside. What would be the point of holding onto pride and past grudges, if it only meant you lost someone you deeply cared for? If you’re sorry, then say you’re sorry. Because as much as people reject the idea of caring for someone they’re furious with, the reality is it is a clear indication of just how much they care. And beyond that, we must learn the value of forgiveness. We would only hurt ourselves more than the person who had wronged us if we don’t learn to forgive. With the members in our family dwindling, there are only so many of us left that understand each other’s struggles and will unconditionally love one another despite the shortcomings. It's true that we don't get to choose our family, but we get to choose to make it better.
Honestly,
K. Grace
If you'd like to relive some of my favourite memories with my family, watch these two videos I have from my last few trips home:
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