A personal rant in response to The Daily Post writing prompt, Voice.
I don’t think calling this a personal rant is correct, but this is my simple gesture for my Abuela.
Happy birthday, Abuela. You’re 87 this year, and I still wished that I could have spend this day with you. I should have spend all of your birthdays with you more. But my age and my selfishness had gotten in the way. I should have asked you before, what you think about life after death. Do you believe in that? I guess you don’t. You’re a very religious woman, and according to our religion, there might not be a life after death. We’re all here waiting for judgement day. Oh, great, did I just really talk about death and the whatnots on your birthday? Okay, let’s start again.
Happy birthday, Abuela. I’m guessing that you would be asking for a gado-gado for your birthday. I remember the last brithday party we had for you, before you were too lazy to leave the house, we had it at this gado-gado restaurant. I can never forget how you always asked me to buy this gado-gado from that specific restaurant anytime I leave the house, no matter where I’m going. I used to hate it, because for some reason (let’s all blame it on teenagers’ hormones) I find it embarassing to go and buy some food for your grandma waiting at home. God, I hate my younger self. Okay, why am I talking about myself now? Man, I gotta stop talking about myself all the time. Let’s start again, shall we?
Happy birthday, Abuela. You’d probably be enjoying the evening air at this point, if you’re still around. And probably you would start pestering about whether or not I had dinner when I’m home. Because that’s just the kind of person that you are. You care so much about other people. You don’t care how tired you are, so long as others are full and content. God, how I miss your cooking. I still remember how strong you were. You came back from the market with live chicken and duck. Then I saw it with my own eyes how you chopped their heads off by yourself. Then you boil them, so you can pluck their feathers off. Then you cook them. Sounds brutal, but you’ve always been very specific when it comes to the food you’re making for others. It has to be entirely homemade. Man, you’re the best grandma ever.
I’m sorry I almost forget about your birthday today. I can’t say it’s because of work, Abuela, because I should have been better. I should not have succumbed to work that I almost forgot about your birthday. Abuela, I hope you have a great day today, regardless of whether or not there is a life after death. You had a great run, and I hope that there’s nothing that you regret. Most of all, I hope that I have not been a disappointment to you.
I hope that wherever you are, my voice and prayers would reach you. Happy birthday, and I miss you so, Abuela.