Saying Goodbye

There’s been a lull in my blogging in the last couple of weeks, as my maternal grandfather, Lolo Jaime (lolo is grandfather in Filipino), had a massive stroke, and finally passed away last Sunday, at the age of 89.

This is the first death of a grandparent that I’ve experienced (my paternal grandfather and maternal grandmother died when I was too young to understand), and there is something about my Lolo’s passing that makes me feel as if I’ve lost a part of my childhood.

Even though I saw my Lolo only once or twice a year (he lives in my parents’ provincial hometown in Isabela, Negros Occidental, a plane ride and two-hour drive away), we talked frequently on the phone, and I had a special bond with him — I inherited his artistic inclinations, and he was my biggest fan.

I had a feeling his time was drawing near when we got the news that he got a stroke two weeks ago, and I was preparing a special picture book roundup for him, except that death got to him first, and for the past few days I couldn’t bring myself to write this piece without breaking down.

But he would have wanted me to keep on writing — he loved my writing as much as my art — so in honor of my Lolo, I’m doing the year’s first picture book roundup, featuring the books Brown Paper Bear by Neil Reed; Song and Dance Man by Karen Ackerman, illus. by Stephen Gammel; and You’re Only Old Once by Dr. Seuss.

(Will resume working off the 2009 backlog after this post.)

Brown Paper Bear reminds me of visits to my grandfather during the summers of my childhood, and later on, whenever I could catch a long weekend to get away. I always looked forward to visiting Lolo because no matter how old I got, and despite the fact that we spoke different languages he always magically made me feel like his little granddaughter again.

I used to spend whole summers with him, watching him in his workshop — he was a talented sculptor, fashioning everything from saints for the town’s Lenten parade, to wooden tops and dragonflies for me and my cousins to play with, animals out of carabao horns, and even furniture from scrap lumber! (Check out the ship behind us in the cover photo)

I would draw quietly on the side, and he was generous with his praise, but he would honestly point out if my perspective was skewed, and then he’d give me tips to improve it.

Even when my visits grew shorter, as I got tied down with studies, and later on when I started working, he was still the same old doting grandfather he always was: he would show me clippings of my newspaper articles that he’d saved, or the copy of the first children’s book I illustrated; he would show me the latest creations from his workshop; and he would go through his orchard to pick out the ripest fruits for me.

In Brown Paper Bear, a little girl named Jess stays over at her Grandad’s house, sleeping in his childhood bedroom. As she slept one night, a cupboard opens and she  finds a squashy brown paper parcel tied up with a bright red ribbon. Inside it is a worn-out teddy bear, who tells her he used to belong to her grandfather.

The bear takes Jess on a magical adventure, and an unforgettable night, and at the end of the book, the brown paper bear gives her and her Grandad a new bond.

I actually bought this book years ago because of its splendid illustration — it’s printed on actual brown paper, and the illustrations make use of the brown-ness of the paper, with only the highlights drawn in, and spot lamination in some details. It’s only now that I’ve come to appreciate how it truly captures the magic of childhood, and the relationship between a little girl and her grandfather.

Meanwhile, Song and Dance Man is about a grandfather who used to be a song and dance man on the vaudeville stage, way before television and videogames were invented. When his grandchildren come to visit, he dusts off his old tap shoes, top hat, striped vest, and cane and he transforms once again as the song and dance man, and puts on a show for the kids.

Now this reminds me even more of Lolo, because he had a genius for music as well (something I did not inherit!). He could fashion an honest-to-goodness, fully-working violin from scratch, and he would play songs for us by request, and without formal musical schooling too! He was also great with animals, and he trained his dogs — anywhere from three to ten of them at any given time — to do all sorts of tricks: shaking hands, balancing, jumping, and all that, and he’d show us new tricks each time we came over.

Song and Dance Man is another book for my Caldecott collection (Caldecott Medal, 1989), and the vibrancy of the colors used in the illustrations capture the colorful character of the grandfather in the story.

Finally, I have You’re Only Old Once (subtitled The Book for Obsolete Children) by Dr. Seuss, a comical picture book for adults,  which I include in this roundup because my Lolo would have enjoyed its humor. It’s about a land called Fotta-fa-Zee, a place where

“everybody feels fine
at a hundred and three
’cause the air they breathe is potassium-free
and because they chew nuts
from the Tutt-a-Tutt Tree.
This gives strength to their teeth,
it gives length to their hair,
and they live without doctors with nary a care.”

The book proposes that when you’re old and undergoing endless tests at the “Golden Years Clinic” you’d be wishing you’d be in Fotta-fa-Zee, rather than getting poked and prodded for all sorts of ailments and taking a dozen different pills for various complaints.

(Dr. Seuss wrote it at age 82, after spending a lot of time in hospital waiting rooms for his various ailments).

Reading this book made me realize that I was never really prepared for my grandfather’s passing. I mean, of course, people die, but I still looked at Lolo with an adoring granddaughter’s eyes (he was climbing trees even well past his 80s, despite the family’s attempts to restrict him to terra firma), and I guess that part of me refused to believe that he would die.

And just like that, he’s gone, and I lost my grandfather, my idol, my mentor, and my biggest fan all at the same time. It’s a struggle for me to let go, and this weekend (we’re flying out to Bacolod for the funeral) will be particularly heartbreaking for me (especially with my dad’s death anniversary coming up, as well as my 25th birthday), but inevitably, life has to go on.

I’ll miss my Lolo terribly, but I know he’ll be happy out in Fotta-fa-Zee, watching over us all.

I love you, Lolo.

***

My copies:  Brown Paper Bear, paperback; Song and Dance Man, paperback; You’re Only Old Once, hardcover

My ratings: Brown Paper Bear, 5/5 stars; Song and Dance Man, 4/5 stars; You’re Only Old Once, 4/5 stars