Not like the movies

You've just stumbled across a ratty old blog in which a girl named Kim uses to rant and ramble. It's also used for creative musings and was previously the home base for her NaNoWriMo progress updates. She's chill, she's cool, and she's talking in the third person making her even better than she's previously described. Come in, don't be shy and don't forget to leave a shout.

The one that got away

'Cause baby you're a firework in my teenage dream, and you definitely got that supa love.


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{006} I Miss You
Friday, January 7, 2011 || 12:25 AM

This post can also be found here.

(Philippines 2007)

Dear Lolo (Grandpa),

How are you? Are you feeling well? Is your garden looking good? I wish I had come with my Mom last year to see your flowers all bloom - apparently some of the rare ones bloomed as well, you really have the magic touch! It's been almost four years since I've last seen you and I wish I could see you again. Did you know I cried when I couldn't go? To be honest, I cried a lot during that week but I didn't bother telling anyone because who'd need to know? I don't have many regrets in life because I don't think living in regret is healthy for a person. It can eat you up inside and feel like an extra burden embedded into your shoulders, like the big bricks the Egyptians probably had to carry around while building the pyramids. It's an odd comparison, but that's what a regret feels like on the inside - as if your heart is lugging a 10000 pound brick. Nonetheless I'm not perfect and I do have a regret which I still fight to this day.

I regret not being able to go with my Mom back to the Philippines to see you and Lola, not being able to read my own piece to you, not being able to appreciate the garden you've worked hard for, not being able to see you again, just once more. I prayed fervently for the first time in my life, I begged on my knees to God and asked him to give you more help, at least until my Mom got there. I'm probably not the most avid Catholic, but it was during that time I could feel God bearing down on us - the whole Reyes family. It was the first time I've clung on to my faith, belief that God will really answer my prayers. I suppose He did in His own way and I don't question it. I don't really know where you are right now but I'm sure you and Lola are both happy wherever you may be and I'd like to thank you for being there when I need a shoulder to cry on, someone to vent to, and someone to just be there.

I feel bad that I don't quite recall the time it happened, but I remember very clearly when I heard about it. You probably saw me down in my basement just sitting on the couch and staring off into space. I didn't mean to, it's just that so many things were running through my head at the time. This was also before Lola met up with you, but she couldn't speak. It really hurt her, it hurt all of us. Kuya Marc was great, he talked to me on the phone for a bit but then the line went dead. I guess that's when it dawned on me how much it sucks to be so far away from the rest of my family.

And I guess it is in that sense that God answered my prayers. He didn't answer it in the way I'd have expected him to otherwise I'd be writing something completely different or maybe not at all. Now you're always with me - apologies for the cliché statement, but it's true. When I read Ate Maricel's memoriam I couldn't help but to feel yet another burden - the burden of not really knowing who you were. You were always my Lolo, my Grandpa, my Mom's Dad. You always babysat me, fed me, and took care of me. You didn't spoil me with material things but you spoilt me with your love and I guess that's why the burden is even heavier because I have yet to repay you. I wasn't able to talk to you like how Ate Maricel and Kuya Marc were probably able to - because I was still so young. I didn't have an inkling of what the rest of the world was thinking and the physical distance between us didn't help much. Yet I feel so attached, because you and Lola were both so wise and constantly told me to study hard and to never lose sight of whatever I've decided to aim for. You told me to keep faith and focus on my studies, something that every adult told me, but it was special coming from you because you never failed to say it to me on those rare moments when we'd be able to speak on the phone. You knew so much and I so little, and I wish you could tell me more - that we could talk more.

I wanted you to come to Canada and see where I lived, where I went to school, who my friends were, and take you to Niagara Falls because that's what everyone does when family comes to visit. I wanted to show you my room, my things, my books, my posters, and even explain to you my obsession with Harry Potter. I wanted to talk to you out in the backyard while having a sip of coffee, I wanted you to recommend me books you've read - I just wanted to talk. I know so much more now than I did all those years ago, I'm more aware of what's going on in the world, and I've read even more books. I like to think I've matured over time, enough to have a regular conversation with an adult, or a conversation about certain issues. I wanted to show you that maturity, I wanted so much just to talk. I realize that I've just repeated myself but that is a wish I'll never see granted until my own time comes.

This letter was almost like a rant in it's own sense. I feel better writing it out, but I know you'll never read this. I just wanted to say that I miss you Lolo, I really really miss you.

Love, Kim


My Grandfather was a great man, greater than I've ever known him to be. No he wasn't a war hero, he didn't invent something spectacular, he didn't win awards for something. He was great because he went on with the remainder of his life, facing things with a peaceful heart. He never let age become a factor, always doing things for himself and staying active. You can say it was a real shock when we heard about him getting sick all of a sudden and then being hospitalized. It was on January 7th 2010 that my Grandfather - Tranquilino Reyes - passed away. He had died while my Mom was still airborne, unaware of the situation. I had found out right after I had come home from school, my Mom called and told me and then my cousin talked to me, trying to console me. The tears weren't from sadness at the time, but it was from a mixture of different feelings. I hate it when people see me cry and I don't like pity. I suppose I'm doing this because it's one of the many things I keep bottled up inside of myself. I'm trying to vent it all out and I suppose it's working and my heart's a little lighter, but my lids have gotten heavier because of the swelling - tears can be evil, but relieving I guess.