2021 // Provincial Pennsylvania on Film
Chambersburg
Pennsylvania, March & April 2021
I went back to Pennsylvania, quite suddenly, because my grandfather - Lolo as it is in the Philippines - had fallen ill. We rushed to my grandparents’ semi-rural home on the east coast to support my Lola and say our goodbyes. 36 hours after we arrived, he peacefully passed away at home.
The weekend that he passed was a whirlwind. It was a crushing prognosis that escalated quickly. After his death, a bittersweet relief washed over us, knowing that he did not suffer as much as he could have. To cope with our loss and pass the time, we dove into old photo albums and reminisced (a few of those pictures are here in this post). I also tried to immerse myself in my surroundings and soak it all in.
I haven’t been to Lola and Lolo’s in two and half years. It’s one of my favorite places because of its quirkiness and antiquity. Where my grandparents live teeters on the Mason-Dixon Line. It’s the kind of place where a few streets crisscross through quaint brick downtowns that withstood the battles of the Civil War, barn stars adorn the Pennsylvania Dutch houses, and farmlands stretch out for acres akin to the default Dell desktop image. The township lifestyle is slow. Sundays are reserved for church in the morning, and, if it’s a nice day, the decision between doing yard work or indulging in leisure activities like golf for the afternoon. If you’re like our family, on rainy days, you’ll hit the casino.
Everything in their home is rooted in the 70’s thanks to interior designer they consulted when building the house. The wallpaper matches the curtains which matches the furniture upholstery which matches the bed linens. Believe it or not, there is still brown and white shag carpet. Burnt oranges and browns are the overarching color scheme, but in my mom and aunt’s bedrooms, it deviates towards girly and feminine with bright yellow, pink, and red floral wallpaper adorning any flat surface imaginable. Their bedrooms remain largely unchanged aside from the religious memorabilia Lola has added since they moved out.
The five acre property has an expansive backyard equipped with a tennis court (prime for tennis Tuesday) and backs up to a small pond. The backyard is wonderful, and a woodland creature’s paradise. Gina claimed that “it’s like Caddyshack” because of all the groundhogs running rampant.
Inside the house, there are various indications of world travel (Lola and Lolo were quite the globetrotters) scattered throughout every room, but I always wondered how they managed to get the giant Chinese vases to Pennsylvania. Bamboo walls lead to the upstairs and compliment the predominantly Asian influences. As a child, I used to run my fingers across the grooves and break the delicate strings that bound the bamboo together - there was always something so satisfying about it.
Ironically, major cities and spots are “close” to them: DC and Baltimore are about two hours away each; Harrisburg, the capital, is about one; Philadelphia and Pittsburgh are three. That’s the beauty of the east coast, you drive from metropolis to metropolis…the downside is that you’re in the car for at least an hour. I think every other day, I was in the car for hours on end, either embarking on a local adventure or dropping someone off at the airport. One of the weekends there, we hopped in the car to drive to Frank Lloyd Wrights’ Fallingwater House which was breathtaking. On the way back home, we stopped by the Flight 93 National Memorial which honors the fourth plane in 9/11 that crashed in the field. The stark design cuts through the green fields signifying the location of the crash, a true emblem of tragedy and remembrance. For whatever reason, Gina and I felt compelled to continue our adventures in the evening and popped over to Gettysburg, getting lost in the battlefield. I would have like to stayed a smidge longer, but Gina aired her concerns of Civil War ghosts, which I guess is warranted.
Besides the outings, the day-to-day was mostly unremarkable - mundane, really, which is how it should be. Throughout the week, most of us were working from home. Evenings were spent mulching, playing tennis, yelling over mahjong tiles, playing with Pancake the cat, or crusading through Old Bay seasoned Maryland crabs and ensaymada, a Filipino sweet dough pastry. Every night for nine days after Lolo passed, we recited a novena prayer, which at first, I viewed as trivial, but became a comforting routine.
Spending time in each others company was such a privilege to be able to do. It was nice to share the burden of grief together. We were blown away by the outpouring of condolences…you would have thought we were a florist if you saw the living room. It was incredible to see how many lives Lolo touched.
Being in Pennsylvania was isolating, yet forced us to be distilled in the moment. We raided Lolo’s clothes and wore his rugby shirts to feel close to him again. Diving into the photo albums allowed old memories to resurface and provide temporary solace. When all else failed, watching Ted Lasso for feel-good comedy would surely boost morale.
As with death, you confront your own mortality. Ultimately, death itself is the hardest on the living. And through the waves of sadness, I find it to be such a blessing and a curse to experience this at twenty five years old. I unfortunately understand the severity of everything; the wills, arrangements, emotional toll. Yet, I have the great appreciation for the years I did have and fond memories to hold onto. I have the guilt of not calling enough, I believe that to be inevitable, and feel blatantly ignorant for believing him to be immortal since that’s all I’ve ever known.
He was so cool. He is one of the coolest dudes that I’ve ever known. He was himself through and through playing golf, doting on animals, working hard, and loving his yard. So quiet and thoughtful. He shuffled around with a thin smile, but a full fledge grin would erupt on his face when something delighted him. You just knew when something made him happy. Lolo loved vanilla ice cream - I get that from him. One of the first times my dad came over for dinner, Lolo was making an ice cream sandwich out of two slices of white bread and a few scoops of ice cream, and my mom was absolutely mortified. Lola and Lolo love to play card games, I think I get that from them too. Whenever we were altogether, I’d get coerced into playing cards, and Lolo was always my partner. When we’d play, the teams we were “We” and the opposing team was “They”. I feel so lucky for him to have been my partner. We managed to sneak out a win most of the time and were in sync with each other’s playing style to a degree that we’d get accused of cheating. I think I’ll miss these moments the most.
I miss my Lolo and I’m eternally grateful that I got to call him my Lolo.
