Grandma’s worry

“Ako’y nag-aala-ala sa’yo. Ikaw lang mag-isa doon. Walang nag-aalaga sa’yo.”

(Translation: I’m worried about you. You’re the only one there. No one’s taking care of you.)

Lola (Grandmother)

That’s what my grandmother usually tells me when I bid her goodbye after visiting her. It’s another 3-hour drive back to my place, where I currently stay and work. And every time I leave, she always says that she and my grandfather are always worried about me living by myself. Being a middle-aged man, I would just shrug this off and let her know that I can take care of myself and that I’m old enough for her to not worry.

Sure. I can take care of myself. I do my own laundry. I buy my own groceries. I manage my own financial responsibilities. I clean my own room. I do everything on my own. I’m a grown man and I can do things on my own without asking for help.

But these past couple of weeks made me wish there’s someone taking care of me. I was sick since the start of the month and I was stuck at home due to the virus going around. It got me too. I’m one of its casualties. Yet, luckily, it wasn’t that severe. I only experienced slight discomfort in the first week. But come the second week, it seemed like my body was having a hard time with its battle with the virus. I experienced a symptom, that may or may not be related to it, that was really bothersome.

During that 2 weeks, I wished I was with people that cared for me. Back home in the Philippines, whenever I get sick, I remember my grandmother, mother, sister, or aunt will bring me food to eat and vitamins to help me get better. My sister will cook or buy me food and bring it up to me in my bed so I don’t have to get up. My favorite was chicken noodle soup or crab and corn soup. My sister sure did spoil me. It was great. I didn’t have to worry about timing my medications because they were all on top of it. All I had to do was rest and get better.

Living alone here in the US, I learned the hard way how difficult it is to take care of yourself when you’re sick. Like the time I had to drive myself to the emergency department because of severe pain in my abdominal area. As it turned out, it was due to gall stones that I had to have surgery for. Then I had to take care of myself as well post-surgery. Then I had those multiple visits to the urgent care clinic. And lastly, these past two weeks.

It is challenging to live alone. But I guess that’s what being an adult really means. I do understand my grandma’s worry but that doesn’t mean I should let her worry.