A grandparent’s love is tenderness disguised in many forms. Practically every grandchild can attest to a grandparent’s selflessness and benevolence sometimes guised in rough demeanor.

My brother and I were always reminded of how fortunate we were to have grandparents who looked after us. They took on the mantle of parenthood while our mother and father were away for work. Under our grandparents, we underwent an archaic upbringing which to me then felt like a bittersweet experience. Yet looking back decades later, I realized it was mostly done on the gentler side of discipline, despite the occasional wooden stick for my mischievous behavior.

It was heartache that brought me back to the house of my grandmother, Teresita David. She was a Bicolana of Spanish descent, who told me several times: the Totañes (her maiden name) were prominent in Bulan. A teacher by profession, she labeled herself as a fierce maestra. She went to Manila as a teen, searching for something more than what life offered her in Sorsogon.

Being a lost soul last year, I too, went to her seeking guidance and this maestra mustered the last vestiges of the educator in her to bring me back to my feet.

My mother had protested against my moving in to live with my lola. But Lola Tessie insisted I stay with her. She thought I needed to. Physically, I was suffering from a coughing fit due to anxiety. Whenever she heard me wheeze and struggle to breathe, she’d bring out P500 from her purse and tell my aunt to bring me to the doctor for a checkup. Emotionally, I was just sad.

Despite knowing about my predicament as well as the absolute sadness that was evident in my eyes, she tended to my wounds not by words but through acts of service. My lola made me feel like a kid again; asking what I want to eat, buying me slippers, waking up in the middle of the night rushing to my room to rub Vicks Vaporub on my back whenever I was coughing badly. She’d wash the dishes and tidy up the house every single day. I never had to lift a finger to do anything but write news stories.

“You will find love again. Me, I never expected to find love here in Manila. Who knew I’d end up with your lolo?” she said.

As I looked at her, I realized the fierce maestra was gone. The one who had once ordered me to lay my palms flat on the table top as punishment. She smiled more and joked more, always going out of her way to make me laugh. I slowly regained my jive.

“Pray for your future. Always pray and thank God for everything. That hopefully you will find your groove again,” she told me.

One thing I truly admired about her, was her utmost devotion to God. There was never a day that I didn’t see her read the Bible. Maybe, that was her final lesson for me. She must have sensed that my faith was shaken, that I was floating away from God, and she had to bring me back. She gave me a renewed sense of faith, and made me see that the world has not ended, and that there was still hope.

She passed away in April this year, leaving with me her smile and carefree attitude. I never knew I’d get therapy of that kind, in the sweetest and most subtle manner from my lola. I was healing and I didn’t even see it.

Perhaps that’s how her love flowed to me. It was like an invisible cloak I could put on and shield me from this world. Through my Lola Tessie, this fierce and God-loving maestra, I learned to smile again.