In the quiet town of Sibonga, Cebu, a family's understanding of their grandmother's past was forever changed not by a dramatic event, but by the slow, revealing fog of dementia. Lola Opelia, a resident of Lindogon, began exhibiting signs of memory loss after a high blood pressure attack in the previous month, leading to a doctor's diagnosis of dementia.
A Name Repeated in the Fog
Her condition manifested in a poignant and specific way: she repeatedly called out for a man named Miguel. "Wait for me, Miguel. Please wait for me so our worlds can meet..." she would often say, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as if in conversation with a ghost. Her family knew her late husband as Heracleo, making this name a complete mystery. There was even an incident where she wandered far from home, walking to search for this Miguel, and was only returned safely because a neighbor recognized her.
Her moments of clarity were interspersed with confusion, leaving her family to navigate a reality where she would sometimes remember them and sometimes forget, often murmuring to herself. Beyond following medical prescriptions, the family's greatest challenge was to practice patience and understand that this was an illness of old age.
The Secret from the Old Trunk
The mystery deepened one day when Lola Opelia was found rummaging through an old trunk her granddaughter had never seen before. From it, she pulled out contents that had been hidden for years: letters, faded photographs, and dried flowers carefully pressed inside newspaper. As her granddaughter watched, Lola Opelia tenderly handled these artifacts, her breath catching with emotion.
When asked who Miguel was, tears welled in Lola Opelia's eyes. "He is Miguel. He is still alive in my heart," she declared with a voice full of emotion, confessing how much she missed him. Prompted to tell their story, her face lit up like a young girl's, eager to share a beautiful memory.
A Forbidden Love and a Tragic End
She recounted meeting Miguel, a professor at a large city university, through her active participation in various events. Their friendship blossomed into a deep, romantic love. "He proved how beautiful love is... that it should not be feared," she said, describing him as an unparalleled romantic who gave her letters, flowers, and poems.
However, their love faced a formidable obstacle: a fifteen-year age gap that her parents strongly opposed. Forced into a marriage with another man she did not love, Lola Opelia carried the pain silently. The tragedy culminated when Miguel, upon learning of her marriage, took his own life. "He didn't know how painful it was to marry a man I did not love," she shared, a revelation that brought her granddaughter to tears.
In her final act of sharing, Lola Opelia read the last lines of a poem written by Miguel, a timeless promise that now resonates as a testament to a love that outlasted memory itself: "if the dark sky ever bears stars / forget to look up to remember / that I am here watching / while waiting for you." Her story, unearthed by dementia, stands as a powerful reminder of the histories and hearts that live silently within our elders.
