Ninety-three. My Lolo turned 93. What a magical moment and a milestone. What an even bigger honor and blessing to witness him blow out his candles on this occasion. The man who helped my parents raise me, the man who raised one of the most prominent individuals in my life, the man who showed me how to love unconditionally and how to persevere. I could tear up reminiscing the sacrifices him and my grandmother made in order for their kids to succeed, and I witnessed their wonderful parenting watching my mom and her sisters follow their example.
My grandparents (Lola and Lolo) moved from the Philippines to Florida back in the 90s to help my parents take care of my siblings and I. My mom had made the decision to pursue higher education down the road and obtain her masters in nursing. My dad was also furthering his surgical technician skills and flying up to New York monthly to obtain his certificate. (Now we know where my love for the city came from). With my parents’ long hours at work and school, I ended up growing up in the care of my grandparents. They got me ready for school, packed my lunches, prepared my dinner, and tucked me in for bed. When my grandparents made the decision to move back to the Philippines, I was a devastated seven year old. Change is uncomfortable and I was losing a huge part of my life. As I grew older, I became more understanding of the decision and I also was more than capable to care for myself and do the things they once did for me. This led to summers in the homeland and my commitment to always set time aside to visit. Howard Stark said, “No amount of money can ever buy us more time.” The summer we celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, my belated college graduation photos, my Lola turning 83, the summer an old friend gifted me duckling and my grandma put up with it! I would do it all over again. This trip marked lucky #14 for me. A mix of all the four seasons.
My mom and I flew out to the Philippines this February to visit our family and celebrate my Lolo’s birthday. People always ask what is the usual travel time. Best case scenario– 25 hours one way. There were trips I did more than that. It was a series of questionable airplane food, the msg TVs knocking me out, and the rush of trying to make it to the next plane, It’s a Continent Podcast. Most reactions I received when sharing this trip was less than one week was jaws dropping or telling me “THAT’S TOO QUICK.” That is not wrong, and the jetlag and series of being on the move tore down my immune system. However, this adventure is always worth making it to the finish line, a reunion with my cousins, aunts, uncles and grandpa.
Fourteen visits later, and I have embraced that change is inevitable. Walking back inside the house I spent summers in only to feel silence and less people made my heart shed a couple tears. My Lola has passed, my cousins all moved away, my aunt relocated cities to manage my family’s business — Things were different now. I’m not 16 anymore and neither are my cousins. The time flew so quick and now we are all done with school and in the midst of figuring out adulting. It felt like my annual visits were slowly coming to its end. I asked myself and I am sure my family was thinking, “When’s next?” Honestly, I’ve never been more uncertain. I am usually quick to come up with a date or placeholder. Walking down the same streets, visiting the boardwalk and praying in the church my Lola was always in, glued some of the pieces in my heart. These places held lessons and memories that I’d never forget. As I write this and take what I reflected on the journey back to Florida, my heart knows although things are different, the Philippines will always be a home away from home. It is a gift I get to relive moments and remember specific areas and events over the course of the years. The summer of my junior year at UNF (2019), I flew in after doing summer classes in Beijing, China. I was a sleep deprived, workaholic, jam packed calendar college kid eating a snack once a day. In college, it isn’t intentional to skip meals you just do. I got to the house and my Lola almost cried saying I got too skinny and asked my parents if they send me money for food. Everyday she served me two helpings of almost every meal to the point I was sweating bullets. I share this story, because little did she know my stomach wasn’t the only thing on E. And even though she is no longer physically with us, her home and the Philippines always fills back up my heart.
Jamie Vergara 