Before my Lolo and Lola of mother’s side were all gone, I remember the last time I spent with them, during one of those unplanned visits at their place. Lolo was 94 years old then while Lola was 90, and barely five months before the latter died and almost twelve months the former also passed away. Listening to their unstoppable storytelling was my precious habit. Stories about their courting days, tall tales about their wartime difficulties as a young couple, and their love for each other in keeping with their marriage vow, those were old-time stories that all my cousins also heard.
In one of those conversations, I asked them about their secret of having such a long life. Lola’s quick reply was: “Ayaw lang kalimot og ginhawa Dong.” (Just don't forget to take a breath.)And we all burst into laughter.
They are gone. Their stories now become my priceless treasure.