Lola Bunny

My Lola is my teacher. She taught me a lot of things in life, the good and the bad. Well, she was really a teacher though, a retired one. Her sisters were principal, superintendent of commission on higher education, so they always had powers to monitor my outside/inside school activities which I always hated. At 2, I started going to school with her. I got into quiz bowls, I got academic awards, scholarships, but it was never enough for her. One time at the end of elementary school year, she didn’t attend the ceremony because I only got 3^rd honorable mention award. She was dissatisfied. To my disappointment, I wore stockings (was the only 1 wearing it one out of hundreds of students) instead of socks (which the school asked us to wear) during the ceremony as sort of my little protest. I frowned in all photos that were taken. My grandmother always wanted me perfect. Imperfection was not in her dictionary for me. I never really had her full support with my love for arts. It took a while for her to realize that it’s one of the things I love doing. It took other’s praises for her to believe that I am good at it.

We were never that open with each other not until few years back. Whenever I want to say something shamefully important, I write a long letter to her and she sometimes read it in front of me. I grew up knowing that the only opinion that matters at home is the parents’ and showing respect is to shut up. I had to be home before 6 pm or I get to be beaten by a broomstick or my grandpa’s belt. I remember when I was 10; my grandmother burned the books and toys that were given by my neighbor because she doesn’t want me to play with him anymore. I never had a chance to play with him again, not even a chance to say goodbye. And that’s the kind of discipline I strongly disagree with.

Yet what I have written above are just few of the things I hated about her strictness. She applied to us how she was brought by her parents during Japanese and Spanish era. She’s multilingual. Whenever she’s mad, she talks oddly. She likes jewelries and I don’t. She likes perfumes and I only like cologne. We only have the same opinion with nail polishing. But despite of our differences in tastes or beliefs, despite her being over-protective, I love her very much. I love my Lola because she is my mother. And she loves me for being rebellious.

She protected me and fully trusted me when I have already proven I could stand and make her proud in any way or another. She defended me against every people who disgusted me because she spoils and loves me. One time I was grounded during vacation and my aunt took my mobile phone. She blamed me for something I never really did I swear. So I used our home phone to call my friends. My aunt came with our 18K phone bill. My grandma acted so mad and I uncontrollably cried. When my aunt left, Lola just laughed, said it’s ok, and we both ended up laughing.

I adore her generosity too. And she never really wants people to know that she have helped this or that person. Everyone who knows her call her Mommy. She was like the mother of all mothers in our small town. It is funny that even our neighbors ask for her advice about things that should only be discussed privately.

Well, that’s my grandma, very strict, very unique, very funny and very lovable. There' s so much more to tell about her.

But for now Lola, I love you. Happy 81^st Birthday and thank you for the great genes :P