Lola Nena.

My dear grandmother passed away early on Tuesday morning. Her name was Fermina Moscoso Mateus, but to her grandchildren she was Lola Nena. Our feisty, strong and glamorous Lola Nena. She would have been ninety-seven years old in July.

In 1987, my family moved from Manila to start a new life in the United States. My parents had already made the journey halfway across the world to California months before in order to get everything settled. My siblings and I stayed in the Philippines, cared for by our grandparents, our aunt Lilian, and a big extended family. When my parents were settled in their jobs and had gotten a home ready for us kids, my two brothers, sister and I followed our parents and made the trip to the other side of the world.

Do you know what sort of person accompanies four children, ages nine, seven, six and five, on an International flight lasting nearly an entire day so that they can be reunited with their parents on a completely new continent in a completely new country full of people who don't speak your native language? Our Lola Nena. I remember that my siblings and I all wore matching, color-coded track suits on the flight. Kristina wore red, Carlo wore blue, Jaime wore green and I wore yellow. I'm sure we looked stupendous. I remember being served some kind of spinach dish on the flight, but also tasting the glory of Toblerone chocolate for the first time on the plane as well. I remember that the airline gave us little blue booties to wear on the plane.

Those are the sorts of things a girl like this remembers:

I can't imagine what kind of horrendous journey that must have been for my grandmother, shepherding four young grandchildren to the United States. The thought of it makes my ovaries shrivel up in terror like raisins. But because of her, I only have happy memories. It was Lola Nena that made sure that Kristina, Carlo, Jaime and I were all safe and happy when we all at last landed at San Francisco International airport and walked through the masses of bodies and looked up at the second-level overlook and found my parents waving ecstatically.

It's difficult to put into words the emotions I have felt this week. I was sad that my brothers, sister and I lost our final remaining grandparent. I was sad that my mother lost her mother. And it is a strange feeling to grieve the passing of a loved one when you live in what feels like such isolation, two thousand miles away from your family. But as my mom explained, there is happiness in knowing that Lola Nena is no longer suffering and is now celebrating her reunion with our Lolo Ben.

Rest in Peace, Lola Nena. Thank you for being a woman that your grandchildren can look up to. Thank you for the wonderful blankets that you knitted. Thank you making me realize that I need to stop with the whining when I feel stressed out about having to travel with BB on airplanes. And thank you for the gift that you sent me on Wednesday. I am happy you are now with Lolo Ben again.