I gave the eulogy for my grandmother who died and was buried a few weeks back. I was one of three grandchildren who gave eulogies. It was hard accepting the fact of her death.
EULOGY:
To tell you the truth, I had a hard time writing this. I don’t know if it’s because I’m still in denial or because I am already grieving inside. I faced a blank computer screen for a few hours, unable to write anything about Luz Lee, whom we lovingly call Angin.
And so I thought I would start at the beginning, and introduce you to our Angin. She was born here in Davao City, the eldest girl of her family. She already showed her dedication to the family by taking care of her younger sisters, Lourdes, Alice and Anna. She quit school to take care of the household when their mother died. She was, in that sense, everyone’s mother. She was, even at a very young age, Mama Luz.
She later married a very kind man whom we called Ayah. Out of this union came three children, James, Frank and Nelly. And from these three children came the many grandchildren and great grandchildren you see today. All of whom love her very very much.
As Mama Luz, she spent much of her time quietly taking care of her actual children and grandchildren. Most of our photographs show her holding a baby or a toddler. She was very devoted and dedicated to the family, her children and her grandchildren. And although she always seemed reserved with most of her grandkids, we knew that deep down, she was very happy just being with us.
In fact, the highlight of her week, and even ours as kids was the Sunday family gettogether. The family would all troop to Toril on Sunday afternoon for two things: to spend some quality time with Angin, and to feast on the many delicacies she spent all day lovingly preparing and cooking for us.
Now she didn’t just make the normal Cantonese style home-cooked dishes. She would go out of her way to cook spaghetti and fried chicken, because she knew this was what we as little kids loved to eat. Every Sunday became a little party for us, and Angin would just smile at the way we devoured all the food.
After eating, the kids would then walk around Nelly’s commercial, which has been the department store of Toril for the last few decades, and look at all the cool stuff that was there.
Sometimes we would even be lucky enough to go home bringing new toys or komiks from the store because Angin gave them to us as gifts. We never had to say anything, that we liked this toy or that thing, because we weren’t allowed to by our parents, since Angin might wind up giving us nearly everything in the store.
But even though we couldn’t say anything, somehow, Angin knew. And on the car ride home, as little kids we would sleep soundly, holding on tightly to the new Toril toy treasure which our Angin wanted us to have.
The family saw death approach Angin several times in the past week, and yet she met those moments with quiet strength and courage. She stayed with us in this mortal plain, even when God was beckoning for her to rest. She was waiting, it seemed, for all her beloved grandchildren to be by her side, for close relatives from Hong Kong to arrive and say their farewell.
It was only when everyone was here, that she finally followed God’ call to come home. She slipped away quietly, not suddenly because she didn’t want to shock us; nor violently because she didn‘t want us to cry nor breakdown. She left the same way she lived her life. Quietly, and lovingly, and with the same dedication for her family.
Randy Pausch, the author of the Last Lecture, once wrote about how he won the parent lottery. I believe my fellow grandkids would all agree with me when I say that we all won in the grandparent lottery, and that we were born with a winning ticket that God granted us. That winning ticket, was our beloved Angin.
We love you Angin, and we miss you.
