@SeverinaAugustine 20 March 2025 edited more from that month

Aftershock Science says aftershocks happen after a big earthquake, and they can actually be more dangerous. Even though they're usually weaker than the main quake, they’re unpredictable and can cause a lot of damage. I think right now, I'm experiencing it. My last living grandparent died a few days ago. When my mom called me and told me the bad news, I was shocked but eventually fell asleep like I didn’t care. Maybe it’s because I know I can't do anything about it. Also, I was thinking about having to go to work early the next day. I'm normal when I go to work since that day. I laugh a lot, joke around, and I'm not crying. I don't feel devastated. It's like everything is alright. I'm not hurt or emotionally scarred. But I'm feeling a bit low, lethargic, and heavy-hearted for no reason. Maybe that is the reason. The major earthquake happened. I'm not crying. The intensity is lower, like an aftershock, but my insides feel completely damaged. When my grandpa on my father's side died, I was still a kid—maybe in first grade—so I thought it was normal when an elder passed away because that's just how it is. When my grandma on my mom's side passed, I was in my first year of high school. I cried, but I told myself it was fine; she was sick and had her fourth stroke. At least she wouldn’t suffer anymore. When my grandpa on my mother’s side died, I was working at the mall as a salesclerk. My meddling aunt messaged me before my mom did, maybe because my mom didn’t want to bother me at work since she knew I’d find out eventually when I got home. It hurt a lot, too. But Lolo had prostate cancer and was constantly screaming, especially at night, which is why, somehow, I was able to accept what happened more easily. But this, my last living grandparent, is different. We shared a lot of memories. I spoiled her a bit, too. We had this conversation when I was a kid, where I told her that I would be the one to take care of her when she got old—the one who would feed her, clean her up when she pooped, and build her a big house. A mansion. With a plane and a pilot inside, so she could get to the kitchen fast since the house would be so big. It sounded impossible, but I told her that. And maybe that stuck with her, just like it did with me. None of what I said came true. Even in real life, I let my fictional side take over. I told myself I’m a realistic person, rather than being optimistic. How I wish I hadn’t said that to her, to avoid getting her hopes up. I miss her. The last time I saw her was when a relative passed away. She asked me where I was working, maybe four times. She was slowly forgetting things because of dementia. It feels so far from the days when I lived in her house. We would go to church together, and after that, I’d take her somewhere to eat and buy her meds at the drugstore. I miss her yelling every morning when she scolded her other grandchildren. It was loud, but it holds a sweet taste of nostalgia. Now, I can feel everything all at once—every suppressed emotion, even the things that happened in my life that I should have cried about but didn’t have the chance to. I exploded like a ticking bomb, and someone cut the wrong wire. I hate crying in the shower, while doing my makeup, and at work. I hate crying in general. It’s a hindrance, a time-consuming chore. But this is what happens if I keep suppressing my feelings. I feel like I’ve died—like a walking dead. I looked at her before she left for her final destination, the weight of knowing it was the last time I’d ever see her sinking in. The night before, I stayed by her side, unable to tear my eyes away from her face, as if by memorizing every line, every detail, I could hold onto her just a little longer. I tried to commit her smile, her soft features, and the way her presence made everything feel safe, to memory. It felt unbearable, knowing I’d never get to see her again. My heart ached, as if the moment could somehow stretch out forever if I held onto it tight enough. *Ganu'n yata talaga. Pag namatay ka, magiging kuwento ka nalang.* *Kuwentong iiyakan ng mga tao.* *Mostly, magagandang kwento ng nakaraang alaala.* *"Alaala ng mga anak at mga apo."*