Letters to my Lola (grandmother) & Lolo (grandfather)

It's been about 5 years since my Lola (grandmother in Pilipino) passed away. I think of her often and miss her very much. I've found as time passes: the girls grow older, my parents grow older, my husband, Pretty Pants, and I grow older, the importance of family grows stronger, the memories get richer.

The Meatball was lucky enough to have met my Lola. We have a photograph of them together in our living room, the Meatball's face close-up with her great Lola's face beaming in the shadow behind her. Of course, she doesn't remember as much as I do since my Lola was with me for most of my childhood. As immigrant, working parents, the Colonel and Rambo didn't have a network of friends and relatives, so the Colonel's parents, my Lolo and Lola would take turns coming from the Philippines to help raise me. It wasn't too unusual for my parents to do this, since having three (even four) generations in a family is customary in the Philippines.

I remember when one grandparent would be here they would ask for me to write a letter to the other. Ever since I could remember living with one grandparent in my parents home, I would write, "To my dearest Lolo, to my dearest Lola..." As a child, the letters wouldn't be too long, maybe one page and a drawing I made in school. Each letter would state pretty much the same thing: how happy I was to hear from them, how I'm doing in school, what I'm doing in school, how my parents were doing, how my dog was doing, and how I was being a good girl. In return, I would also receive letters stating the same thing: how was my health, how happy they were to hear from me, how happy they were that I was doing well in school, to always remember to be healthy, remember my prayers and be good to my parents.  I exchanged letters with my grandparents for about a good decade or so in my life. Initially, it was part of a routine, something I always just did, not until I came across a letter my Lolo wrote during my freshman year of college did I realize how important these letters were. Reading through my Lolo's letter, I can imagine him sitting at his writing desk, my letter on the left, his cup of coffee on the right, inserting the delicate typing paper into his now antiqued, typewriter, communicating with his Apo (granddaughter). How beautiful these letters are to read now!

In an age of e-mails, texts, acronyms, half sentences, one word answers, emoticons, I wonder (and sometimes fear) what communications my own children, future grandchildren will remember of me? I've heard that some parents create an e-mail address for each of their children to "write" like a journal of letters of their youth. I haven't tried that, I'm actually still open to writing letters, starting with, "To my dearest Apo..."