THE ADORER’S BLOGS ( A Short Story, 6th of 7 Parts)


A moment of silence ensued, grandma stared and smiled at me and answered hesitatingly, “I… I was not sure… I don’t know.”

I was so disappointed with grandma’s response. I would like to believe what Peeker said that grandma is naïve, but who am I also to pass judgment on her.


“Goodbye Charming! The greatest pleasure that I have in my life is knowing you. Certainly, you will remain forever in my heart and mind. I will be praying for your good future. May you have a great family. As I wrote in the note that I gave you after our picnic… please read my blogs from time to time.”


How tirelessly that Peeker expressed  his eternal adoration for grandma. Her feelings  for Charming seemed to have not relented through the years. He never got tired blogging for grandma – telling her about events in his life – asking her for prayers for his problems and difficulties – detailing to her his pains and grief – expressing to her  his unfathomable affection. That went on and on through the years…

“By the way grandma, did you regularly read your adorer’s blog?” I asked.

Grandma nodded and said, “Of course, weekly sometimes fortnightly, there were times I did it daily. I did it in secrecy, always in the wee hours in the morning when nobody would notice. But he discouraged me from giving reactions to his blogs, which I obediently followed.”

Asking grandma again how she felt about Peeker would just be a practice in futility for, as always, she would give a vague answer. But somehow, regularly reading his blog would mean that at least to grandma, her adorer is someone very special, or it could be more than that.

At 3:00 past midnight, I decided to allow grandma to finally have a rest. My thirst for information about her adorer was more than quenched. She promised to give me access to Peeker’s  blogs anytime I wanted.

Then I remember the old man and the birthday card. Before leaving grandma’s room, I gave her the said card.

”By the way grandma, somebody wants you to have this.” She read the card as I head out.

“Wait!” She said, “Who gave you this? Where’s he?” I have not seen grandma so excited.

“An old man in a car, he parked by the nearby roadside before I came up here. I don’t know if he’s still there. Why

To my amazement, grandma got a jacket and scurried downstairs while wearing it.  I followed her immediately. I felt an adrenalin rush for gut feel made me think that the  old man who gave the card was grandma’s adorer. Fervently I prayed that the old man decided to stay longer. I opened the gate. Grandma got out first.

“Where is he… where?” asked my grandma. I scanned the segment of the roadside where I saw the car parked, it was no longer there. In the whole neighborhood that I searched, but my grandma’s adorer was nowhere to be found.

When I returned, my grandmother was standing in front of the newly-built bungalow where the old man parked his car.  Needless to say any word, both grandma and I were despondent. My sadness emanated from the failed expectation that I would meet in person, the noblest lover I have known.

The source of my grandma’s sorrow was different. Now I no longer need to ask if grandma loved her adorer. Her actions that night betrayed her – her being so disconsolate for failing to finally see her adorer after more than four decades revealed what she truly felt for him.

We exchanged no words until we reached her room. I decided to stay with grandma. She lied down on the bed while I went back to continue reading Peeker’s blogs. My grandma’s eyes were closed. I watched her intently. Even in old age, she remained elegantly beautiful, notwithstanding all those wrinkles. No wonder why her adorer fell madly in love.  Later on I noticed some tears falling from her closed eyes. At that instance, all the more that it became clear to me how she felt about her adorer.

After a few minutes, a notification about a new blog entry appeared on the laptop’s screen. After 10 years, Peeker blogged again for Charming.

“Grandma, wake up, Peeker has a new post for you!”  There was no reaction from grandma, she seemed disinterested. “Did you hear that grandma, a new post from Peeker!”



Teacher-Writer Hardpen is my nom de plume. My real name is Massuline Antonio Dupaya Ligaya. Many times I was asked the question, "Why do you write?" I don't write for rewards nor adulation. When I write poems, stories or essays, seeing them completed gives me immense joy and satisfaction. The happiness and sense of fulfillment I feel when completing my works are my rewards. When I teach, I don't work but I play. The classroom is my playground, the students are my playmates, and the subject is our toy. Proud to be me! Proud to be a FILIPINO! TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

Posted on October 22, 2013, in Creative Writing, Literature, Short Story, Writing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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