This Halloween, I Celebrate My Dad

While people in the States celebrate Halloween with carved pumpkins, costumes and props, most people in the Philippines do so by remembering the saints and the loved ones they have lost. November 1^st and 2^nd would be spent going to the cemetery visiting graves, embellishing them with flowers, lighting candles, sharing a meal or two with family. Some people would stay overnight, play board games, play the guitar and sing to their heart’s content. I will be honest and say that this holiday was merely a tradition for me until I lost my Dad two years ago. I don’t get to visit his grave as often as I want to but at this point, I don’t think I need something tangible for my memories of him to be this alive. That bruise in my heart associated with his death is still pink raw and burns every time I dream of him – twice or three times each week.

This Halloween, I am not celebrating with a Piglet costume or a Tauriel. I am spending it remembering my Dad and honoring his memory – even if it means allowing myself to grieve again. I wish our last few days had been more ceremonial – me and him at the beach saying our last goodbyes; me thanking him for that special walk we had one day when I was in 5^th grade; him pinching my finger one more time; or the whole family having karaoke night or dancing by the beach on New Year’s Eve one last time. However, some things are meant to happen only in the movies and somehow, life is just blunt, even if it’s about something as serious as losing your dad. My brother who is also a seafarer like my dad was, recently shared that one of his co-workers happened to have worked with him before. They spent time talking about him as a co-worker and as a dad and ended the conversation with tears in their eyes.

My consolation besides the idea of heaven is the thought that if my father were still alive, he would be proud of the life skills I have recently developed. It would surely warm his heart to know I could cook now, that I could build a fire and keep it going for hours, that I could singlehandedly build a pig pen gate using power tools and that my son turned out fine even though I spent most of my pregnancy crying because my father was dying.  A friend once told me that sometimes it is not the quantity of time that you spend with someone that matters, but the quality. And that’s how it was with him. He was away 80 % of the time because of work but we made good and rich memories that are worth remembering and celebrating not only every All Souls Day, but every single day. So today, I will remember. I will sing our favorite songs and I will smile and cry at the same time. 

Death is Real

img source: http://www.apa.org/Images/death-title-image_tcm7-187855.jpg

Despedida parties. Farewell parties. Graduation rites. Send-off gatherings. They all serve to formally mark an end. Thank God, most of my goodbyes have been made by one or two of those. They make departure seem appropriate – and wash away some guilt related to it should there be any – provide opportunities for last words to be said and impressions to be made; otherwise, one just holds one’s piece forever. That’s the kind of goodbye that haunts. For some goodbyes like death are permanent. And it’s harder for one who believes that the dead can no longer hear and I noticed that those who believe otherwise, take for granted the chances of saying kind words to someone while he is still living and find convenience and ease in postponing it until he is dead. Death alone is depressing – and more so if one is unceremoniously confronted with it as if death is a mere occasion, an item in a to-do list or a chore. But maybe it is and it’s just me.

But if I had one wish to make, I’d wish to have the power to postpone – even for a few days or months till I am ready for – the death of a loved one. Tell him how much I appreciated the motorcycle rides to school, the pancit niwang, ginisang talong, the candies and all the sweet nothings that makes me say wow I matter in this world and I am worth one’s time. I remember my uncle who died years ago and I had to fly home for his funeral. He didn’t get to hear my thank-yous and my sorries.   

I do not despise death by itself – but the issues that come with it. I envy the dead, at times for they are spare of those. But it is the living – it is me that is left to reflect, to be confronted by the reality of loss once again. Surprised by its occurrence as if I am special enough to be spared by its ugliness. My uncle just died. Death is indeed real.

My Aunt Died Last Night

Tuesday, March 30, 2010 at 9:56am

My aunt died last night.

The moment I knew this, I started remembering our few moments together: nothing very intimate, often small talks, how she could cook delicious ampalaya minus the bitter taste and how she would love to receive love quotes through SMS from me.

I am a very busy person when it is not summer or Christmas. Ask my classmates and they will describe to you the sleepless nights we spend beating deadlines. If I can send text messages to anyone, it is either I need things badly: money, prayers or people to talk with or I am accountable for and to some people and I haven’t talked to them for months.

Every time I come home and see her in family gatherings, I am reminded of her desire to receive love quotes from me.

Now that she is dead, I wonder whether I had been too busy with trivial matters, I failed to do the more important ones. My aunt died and I am very sad not only because I can’t see her anymore, but because I will never know how her life really went, and what it might have become had I spent a few seconds, and a peso every day to check her out and make her smile with my love quotes.

To NANG HAYLEN, I love you.. I wish I had told you this while I still could.