I Still Carry Some Residual Guilt Over My Grandfather's Passing

3 years ago or so, my maternal grandfather died. And to this very day, I still have a hint of guilt feelings. Is his death my doing?

The Story:

I still remember those times when we travel from Pagadian to Cebu every  summer vacation. My grandparents were really happy to see us because we were their favorites, as what other people said. I remember my Lolo would buy my 100 points paper from school, 5 pesos each. During school year, I would dutifully collect and work hard for 100 points, coz I know that I will be getting money from my grandparents during our yearly summer vacation to Cebu.

When my grandmother died and their livelihood changed, I saw my Lolo struggled. Since landing a job abroad, I promised him that I will help him out.

I followed through my promise, I have been giving money to my mom to be given to my grandfather for his everyday meals and such. I found out later that my aunt has been using the money, and I was pissed beyond belief! That's supposed to be for my Lolo, not for her! I cut off the support as a sign that I wasn't happy, that I am not tolerating their behavior. I felt like I was deceived, betrayed even.

Months after, every time my mom goes to their old home just to check up on my grandfather, he would tell her to tell me to help him. I said yes and, according to my mom, he was happy. I imagined him with his usual smile of his, I was happy too that he was happy. 

But, before receiving the money, he suddenly died.

I cried so bad when I learned about his death the very next day. I blamed myself for it, maybe because I haven't given money to him and he got depressed that's why he died? For days, I was inconsolable. I cried and kept it to myself.  The memories of my Lolo haunted me till I ended up dreaming about him. In that dream, I saw him on his bed, very old and can't hardly get up to greet me, but he gathered up his strength just to sit up to give me a cupcake. After I woke up, I cried so bad I didn't end up going to work.

In the hopes that I'll get rid of the guilt-feeling I was having, I shouldered his burial expenses. Php 30+ later, I still felt guilty.

This is one of the many roles of being an OFW: we carry the feeling of guilt whenever something bad happen to our family member, especially when we know that they think that we are capable of helping because we are working abroad. Having accepted that we can't carry all the financial burden of our family, we still can't help but feel guilty, that somehow their death is our doing. 

"Will this end?", an OFW might ask. For this I'll reply, "I don't know..."