Yesterday my aunt called me to say that she needed someone to take her to a family reunion - some of our distant relatives. So, being the good niece, I sucked up my fear of driving, specially in Quezon City, and said yes. I'm glad I did because I was pleasantly surprised.


The party was a reunion of cousins. Keep in mind my aunt is 72 years old, so the youngest of the bunch was 60. In attendance as well were an uncle and two aunts pushing 90. The cousins exchanged stories about their grandchildren, mostly abroad, and the challenge of trying to teach them the "old ways".

Each time I participated on any of the conversations, they took their time telling me about how hard becoming a doctor is going to be, but it's a noble profession they say, you'll be helping a lot of people. It was certainly refreshing to be with a generation who still believe in that.

Being in the company of my grandfather's relatives, I felt he was there too, answering the prayers I call out to him in my times of uncertainty. My old soul felt right at home. Looking at their toothless smiling faces posing for a picture I thanked God for family.