Of aliens, doomsday and the melancholy of an old dude

For the first time since the day I was born I have never talked to my Lolo. But with the recent and mysterious disappearance of MH370, my Lolo suddenly smashed that wall of silence and indifference between the two of us.

It was his birthday, (and yet I still don’t have any idea how old he is) when out of nowhere he sat with me and with my Tita and started opening the news about the missing Malaysian plane.

Having read the news and followed the updates of the incident, I joined the conversation. Knowing some of the details, my aunties were so eager to ask me some of the details.

On the other hand, my Lolo who opened the conversation suddenly became quiet but it was obvious enough that he was listening to the discussion.

Having a bad hearing, he sometimes leans towards and asks to repeat what I just said. When my Titas finally were sated with their curiosity, my Lolo started talking about aliens. As he relays his thoughts on the matter, he shared his strong belief that aliens are the reason behind the plane’s disappearance.

We were all just listening to him. If you don’t know my Lolo, you would think that he is one crazy old dude. His extraterrestrial stories then progressed to apocalyptic accounts of how the world will soon end given the recent disasters and oddities that the world is experiencing. He sounded like a preacher who tries to prove his credibility to skeptics.

I am not really a fan of aliens and conspiracies about doomsday. But having this little conversation with my old man, there is a part of me that wants to believe that extraterrestrials do exist. And even though it is very inappropriate of me to think that MH370’s disappearance is caused by some extraterrestrial beings, part of me still wants to dwell in this wild imagination just to keep this conversation with him going. This may all sound silly, but for a second this conversation has made me feel that I do have a Lolo.

I don’t hate him but I can’t confidently say that I love him. The occasional visits in his house since I was born did not help me improve my relationship with him. The only contact and conversation we had is when I kiss his hand when I greet him.

My mom took the job of informing him about the current happenings of his granddaughters. So I don’t have to repeat myself whenever my mom shares something about attending a good school in high school, receiving a degree and having a decent job. These are probably the only things he knows about me and his smoking addiction and thoughts about aliens are probably the only things I know about him. We are both strangers to each other.

When my beloved Lola died, I know that it pained him. In his numbered days, I know the only silver lining he is looking forward to right now, is to be with my Lola again.

Knowing this, I would like to know more about him personally and share stories with him even though I am aware that it won’t be easy. Well, aside from his impaired hearing that would hamper possible normal conversation between the two of us, I don’t have any idea on what to share with him that is interesting enough to keep the conversation going.

That is why, even though the topic of aliens and the end of the world is something peculiar, I still fancy talking about these things just to have a connection with him.

When I was young one of my aunties told me that my Lolo, used to drown me in a bucket of water whenever I cry. I don’t know if this is true since I don’t remember anything much during my childhood.

I never felt any grudge or fear towards him upon knowing this. I don’t really care about the whole thing even if it means he was trying to kill me that time. It was all in the past and no matter what happens or what he did, he is still my Lolo. He is still part of my identity.

Moreover, I would still grab any opportunity just to talk to him and make memories with him to make up for those silent years even though it is as silly as alien existence or doomsday. 

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