|Katherine|
Grandfather’s recovery unfolded with a speed that caught us all off guard. None of us had dared to expect it—certainly not the doctors, who spoke cautiously of weeks, perhaps months, before he could be considered fully stable. And yet, day by day, he seemed to gather strength with a resolve that was almost unsettling, as if sheer determination could patch what medicine struggled to heal.
Sometimes I wondered what truly drove him. Was it the yearning to return to Iloilo, that beloved hometown he spoke of so often, his eyes brightening whenever its name was mentioned? Or was it the unrelenting restlessness of a mind that could not stop turning, forever tethered to the fate of our family company? Perhaps it was both—a tug of nostalgia and a sense of duty that refused to let him
