In Memory of Nanay

One of the saddest period of my life was when Nanay Belen died, our maternal grandmother. There wasn't a day for two years after she died that I never thought of her. Until now I miss her everytime I would eat kare-kare, she makes the best kare-kare and she cooks not well but excellently. Whenever there would be family gatherings her dishes would always be complimented, and guests would often bring home food, and still there would be enough leftover for us to eat for two days. We would often wonder, bakit hindi nauubos yung pagkain? And Nanay would say that dinasalan daw nya. After she died, our nanay Vicky took over the cooking with the help of my aunts, and oftentimes we would run out of dishes to serve. Guess she wasn't able to ask her mother the secret. Aside from her wonderful cooking, Nanay Belen was always on her feet, roving places. She would bring us, my sisters and I, to familiar places and sometimes places we haven't been to. She would tell us we would go to a relative of hers who live somewhere in Bagbag, or sometimes go to Tondo where we used to live, or in Bulacan where her older sister resides. Places near and far, by jeep, bus and even train. My first train ride was not on the LRT but the very old dilapidated train bound for Bicol. We didn't go to Bicol though. We rode that train to go to San Pedro Laguna to visit my father's brother for an affair I cannot remember anymore. The train ride was bumpy and the scenery started with shanties and ended up with greenery.
When we were little we experienced nanay belen's infamous spanking. We heard of that story from my nanay vicky. Nanay Vicky would tell us stories of how she suffered from Nanay Belen's heavy hand. She would end up badly bruised because apparently somebody would tell Nanay Belen that they saw her with my Tatay. Nanay Belen doesn't want Nanay Vicky to have a boyfriend that time I guess. The most painful experience I had with her was when she hit me with a walis tambo in the butt. I cried non stop. I can't remember the reason why she did that but I made sure it won't happen again. It was a learning experience that until now I did not regret because it molded me to be somebody who fear my elder and follow rules.
Nanay Belen died on the month of July. As she would often tell us it would rain on her burial because her earwax is always wet. We would laugh on that fact and tell her that it's just an old saying. But on the day of her burial, it did not just rain but there's a storm and everyone who walked to her grave site were soaking wet. I smiled at the coincidence while tears were pouring from my eyes. She was right indeed.
People would always say that we should show our family how much we love them because we don't know what would happen next. About a month before she died, I didn't know what took over me, but I hugged her while we were seating on the sofa. I would not normally do that. I placed my head on her chest and hugged her. I can still remember how she smelled. Of spices and aromatics, because she just cooked for my parents' wedding anniversary. The last celebration she would share her cooking expertise and the delicious food I still crave for until now.