My Tribute
Last Wednesday, the Philippine Insurer's Club gave a tribute to my late grandfather. I never realized he wrote seven books on insurance, I always thought it was fewer than that. Then again, seven books would be an easy task for someone who graduated from Journalism. The books eventually became "textbooks" of the insurance industry.
The lunch event was held at the Manila, Peninsula. While seated with some relatives, I couldn't help but notice the blue program in front of me. A surge of pride came up as I read the program containing my grandfather's name. My mind drifted to thoughts about the insurance industry and if I had the patience to thoroughly understand how the whole thing works.
I saw a vivid image of my grandfather, months after the stroke that paralyzed the right side of his body, writing his way through a yellow pad, left-handed. He was right-handed, but the stroke challenged him to continue with what he loved doing. He wrote in english and he could still write in chinese. His handwriting still flawless.
I occasionally passed by his desk during the time he was undergoing therapy. His collection of Reader's Digest magazines had marked words. The most recent issue would always be on top of a large dictionary, the marked words would be unknown words and he had an undying habit of referring the words to the dictionary.
Back when encyclopedias were the only source of information, he had a library that was also a mahjong room. I would always work my way in there, lusting after his hard-bound books. The walls were filled with photos of himself and his business associates, his diploma and certificates of his achievements. He even translated a book of Philippine Fables to chinese. He had a large collection of Rizalian books, I would like to believe he was a "fan."
Today the room was sadly transformed into a storage hold. Without a writer in the house, the books slowly diminished and were given away to the different families and to whoever wanted to keep it. The insurance books stayed behind though. Until yesterday, they too were donated to the libraries of different insurance companies.
Last night, we celebrated his second year death anniversary, catholic style. We already celebrated it a month ago the "Chinese way" - via the temple and buddhism. Two different dates for his second year. Two celebrations for a man who accomplished so much in his lifetime. I still miss him. I never had the chance to converse with him. Our relationship was composed of a dozen greetings, a distant granddaughter-grandfather relationship. It's during these moments I wished I was born earlier, born not from the same family, but as a friend or colleague wherein I would have known him from a different perspective.
The lunch event was held at the Manila, Peninsula. While seated with some relatives, I couldn't help but notice the blue program in front of me. A surge of pride came up as I read the program containing my grandfather's name. My mind drifted to thoughts about the insurance industry and if I had the patience to thoroughly understand how the whole thing works.
I saw a vivid image of my grandfather, months after the stroke that paralyzed the right side of his body, writing his way through a yellow pad, left-handed. He was right-handed, but the stroke challenged him to continue with what he loved doing. He wrote in english and he could still write in chinese. His handwriting still flawless.
I occasionally passed by his desk during the time he was undergoing therapy. His collection of Reader's Digest magazines had marked words. The most recent issue would always be on top of a large dictionary, the marked words would be unknown words and he had an undying habit of referring the words to the dictionary.
Back when encyclopedias were the only source of information, he had a library that was also a mahjong room. I would always work my way in there, lusting after his hard-bound books. The walls were filled with photos of himself and his business associates, his diploma and certificates of his achievements. He even translated a book of Philippine Fables to chinese. He had a large collection of Rizalian books, I would like to believe he was a "fan."
Today the room was sadly transformed into a storage hold. Without a writer in the house, the books slowly diminished and were given away to the different families and to whoever wanted to keep it. The insurance books stayed behind though. Until yesterday, they too were donated to the libraries of different insurance companies.
Last night, we celebrated his second year death anniversary, catholic style. We already celebrated it a month ago the "Chinese way" - via the temple and buddhism. Two different dates for his second year. Two celebrations for a man who accomplished so much in his lifetime. I still miss him. I never had the chance to converse with him. Our relationship was composed of a dozen greetings, a distant granddaughter-grandfather relationship. It's during these moments I wished I was born earlier, born not from the same family, but as a friend or colleague wherein I would have known him from a different perspective.
