My grandpa. He was a slight and quiet man who couldn't keep still. He HAD to work. I visited him and Lola when arthritis and age had gotten the better of him. He sat in his rocker on the front porch, squashing ants with the stub of his cane just to keep busy. Fast forward several years, I was back at The Old House, and Lolo was no longer in his rocking chair.
I remember the night like it was just yesterday. I was at my other grandparents' house the night before their village fiesta. Desperas is what they call it. It was pouring down rain. We had no phones back then, so I received word by a messenger. "Your Lolo has passed away..."
Fast forward again, more than 10 years later... Tita Virgi called me up. "Let's have a rosary for your Lolo's death anniversary," she said. So that's where I was last night. At Tita Virgi's house, for dinner and a rosary.
The Sorrowful Mysteries.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit...
I believe in God...
Our Father...
Hail Mary...
The Agony In the Garden of Gethsemane, The Scourging at the Pillar, The Crowning With Thorns, The Carrying of the Cross, The Crucifiction...
Oh My Jesus...
Hail Holy Queen...
O God, His Only Begotten Son...
For all the souls in purgatory...
[Ugh, I'm having Lost withdrawal syndrome...]
Hail Mary...
Oh my, is that Cousin Abmel? I left Tita Virgi's house before him!
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