#idk if its trash or not
sinnerman
Prologue
Conchita Diaz knew that death arrived for her; she was ninety-one years old and not surprised at all. There were things that they did not tell a person about dying, and it was that breathing became sweet. Light was cherished. Food was no longer appetizing. Conchita felt younger than ever.
“Lola?”
Dark brown eyes met hers, and Conchita reached a hand to stroke the skin of her granddaughter. Oh, she thought to herself, poor Soledad. All alone, stuck serving masters that would throw her into a wall of bullets if only to protect their wallets.
“M’hija,” Conchita said. “You must stop. Stop and leave this country. See the world. Fall in love. The world will continue to turn even if you officially resign.”
Soledad looked at her dying grandmother, seeing her own reflection in dark eyes losing their sight. There was suddenly a great distance between them that didn’t exist a few seconds before. Soledad could not find it in herself to tell her grandmother that she didn’t want to leave her country, her Philippines.
But her lolawas losing daylight. It couldn’t be helped. Conchita Diaz was one of the reasons why Sol was in her line of work.
Soledad smiled at her grandmother. “Sige nga,” she said, and by agreeing she felt like she was jumping into the ocean at night. “I’ll go on a trip, ‘la. Mularga ko, tapos I’ll find a gwapoman to fall in love with. And I’ll make sure that he’s rich, and maybe old. At least ten years older than I am.”
“Grabe naman,” Conchita laughed. It was still a bright sound that she carried with her from her youth. “Ambisyosa ka talaga, Sol.”
Soledad wanted to snort; her grandmother’s request was not something that ambitious single women entering their thirties did. And yet, Sol found herself hoping against hope that maybe she could find the peace that her grandmother wanted for her. Sitting in a hospital room, with a heartbeat monitor as the background music, peace felt impossible.
Conchita took her hand from her granddaughter’s cheek, giving it one last pat. “Don’t worry about me and your lolo,”she said. “We love you so much, and we’re so proud of everything you’ve done for us. And don’t forget, ha.”
“Don’t forget what?”
Conchita smiled one last time, taking a good look at her granddaughter. Sol looked dashing in her uniform, too much like Conchita’s husband– the love of her life that she was going to see very, very soon.
“I want ‘Maalala Mo Ba, Kaya’ to be played after the funeral mass. Don’t forget, or else I’ll haunt you.”
Soledad nodded from her chair beside her grandmother, the bright white light of the hospital room staining her eyes.
Conchita died later on that night, and Soledad booked a flight to New York City the next day.
_____________________________________________________________
Translation:
Lola- grandmother
Lolo- grandfather
M’hija- my girl
Sige nga- Alright
Mularga ko, tapos I’ll find a gwapo man to fall in love with- I’ll travel, and then I’ll find a handsome man to fall in love with
Grabe naman- roughly, that’s a lot
“Ambisyosa ka talaga, Sol- you really are ambitious, Sol
Maalaala mo kaya- would you remember, a song by Filipino artist Pilita Corrales
