My other paternal grandfather was a true blooded Taloctoc native. All that adorned his lean muscular body was a g-string which undulated with his every movement. He was as strong as a bull and sturdy as an oak. At age 70, he still trekked to the kaingin a mountain away from the barrio.
He carried bundles of wood like an agile, young man. During the evenings, we would sit all around the hearth and he would sing to us an "ullalim" (native song) about the legend of the "sleeping beauty" . In the mornings, before the cock has crowed, he would be up and about and already honing his bolo for a day's work in the fields.
When he passed away at age 92, I cried a river; but knowing that he is finally at rest, made me feel better . My wonderful memories of him will never fade away and will remain treasured in my heart .
APO LOMIWAN, we love you, and wherever you are, we know you're in good hands and that you are happy. Till we meet again!
