In times of mourning

Crashing waves in Tigbauan, Iloilo | Photo by Althea Tan

So I forced myself to wake up very early this morning and dragged myself to turn-on my laptop. I was scheduled for a Skype video chat with my family and relatives who are staying up late at the wake. My relative, who died two weeks ago, is about to be buried tomorrow and it will be a big event in town — all the town folks are attending in their Sunday’s best.

But up until now, I still haven’t got a clue why he died so suddenly. I feel terrible about it to say the least: I didn’t even have the chance to talk to his mother.

I know this shouldn’t be a big deal but for us, it’s customary to know every minute detail from the last days of the dead relative’s life. It’s like walking in his shoes and contemplating what his last words meant, wondering how his last meal tasted like, or what he was feeling moments before he died. I know it’s ghoulish to be listening the description of his death but it’s our way of sharing the family’s bereavement — by listening attentively and give them that “I know what you’re going through” look on your face. We don’t even have to say anything.

Burying a loved one’s body is probably the saddest, most painful part of our lives. Yes, it’s more painful than death itself. It’s when you realize that that person is actually gone. Forever. And you’ll never see a glimpse of him ever again in your lifetime. The most excruciating part of the burial is the recital of the last prayer at the cemetery shortly before the casket is to be closed and interred. To the onlookers and mourners, it’s the most awaited part. (The “eating after the burial” part comes in close second). It is when you see what nameless grief can do to people, especially to the immediate family. In the past, relatives fainted right in front of the casket, some wailed from too much anguish, others wanted to be locked inside the tomb with the dead. I’m sure this burial will be the most heartbreaking because he died at such a young age. I wouldn’t be surprised if tomorrow someone will suddenly fall unconscious.

Anyway, the call didn’t push through. I just got an short email from my mother saying that her broadband connection from her broadband portable stick cannot install Skype because it’s too slow and maybe we’ll chat next time.

I also called through cellphones but nobody answered. I know why: my US number is not stored in their phone books. Most probably they knew someone was calling but could only see the word “Call” on their screens and God knows who that “Call” is (and that could be me, right?). I think it’s a maddening practice among family members to totally ignore anonymous calls. I am equally guilty as well. As of today, I have around 20 “missed” calls in my phone register. But who could be calling me from Texas, Arizona, Oregon, and Ohio when I only shared my phone number with four people and none of them are from those states? Plus, I only got my US number around 45 days ago and I seldom use my phone for calling (more on tinkering with my apps).

So I just feel awful for being so out of the loop and hope they would understand. Believe me, being in the US is a far-out idea for most of them. Plus, the time difference is just crazy.

I guess the best thing that I can do today is to recall fond memories that I have with that person and write them down. Too many people focus on his loss and not on his life.

What I feel like doing

Some people crave for water when it gets too hot or when it hasn’t been raining for months. Not in my case. I’ve been wanting to swim since I got here in the Bay Area a couple of months ago. The mere thought of water splashing through my skin just feels good. If I had the chance I would swim and snorkel the whole day.

I thought my husband, Amarind, was joking when he told me that it’s too cold to swim in the beach here. I didn’t think it was that bad until I dipped my foot in the water. Geez, it was so cold I had to quickly yank my foot so it won’t feel numb!

So I think I have to wait ’til our next vacation to the Philippines. We can swim in pristine beaches by then.

The sun is out

But it’s cold in Lake Chabot, which makes the surroundings appear gloomy. I expected the sun, but not the gloom. I was close to shivering when i realized I didn’t bring a sweater.Good thing Amarind always brings one, even when the sun is high. He said the weather in the Bay Area is fickle. Now I know exactly what he meant.

In the tropics, I wouldn’t be caught sitting under the sun. I’ve never ever seen anyone willingly sit under the sun. We do everything so we’re not exposed to the heat: we use umbrella as our portable shade, wear scarves and wide-brimmed hats, or stay at the mall until dusk. People don’t like the sun. In fact, when I was in grade school, my teacher made those stubborn students — those who didn’t do their homework and didn’t listen to the lecture — stand under the sun and, if they’ve been stubborn the nth time around, kneel on mung beans under the lunch time heat and endure the pain. I dreaded that punishment so I tried my hardest to always be first in class.

Now, two decade later, I bask under the sunshine especially when it gets colder. I love it: it’s like having your own heater system outdoors minus the bill.

Off to the lake

We’re off to Lake Chabot today to see how much water has increased in the last 24 hours of raining. I bought a light reading material just in case I get tired walking and feel like reading.

I wish the ground were not too wet so I didn’t have to wear rubber shoes. Meanwhile, I’m dreaming of these:

A Series of Breakthroughs

My husband on top of a hill, facing Lake Chabot

I had a series of breakthroughs this week; I encountered some eye-openers that I may have known before but didn’t really bother to apply them in my life.

I was one of those who always say, “I have no time” or, “I am busy.” I always had this silly excuse that I am swamped with work and couldn’t be bothered to do something else. There were times when I felt that my days were too short and wished that I could stretch them longer so I could accomplish more. I had a habit of equating a fruitful day with how many hours I spent working. I forewent time management and ignored other things that equally demanded my attention. I had little time for my family even though I work from home. I was just there with them and not really for them. I always walked fast hoping that I’d reach the finish line sooner.

I completely missed the point: I forgot to walk slowly and feel the air pass through my nose — I even forgot how clean and fresh air is on this side of the world. I forgot how water can be so refreshing and how soap suds help wash out a day’s worth of problems. I forgot to wear a big smile on my face when walking — it was all about walking with my head up high, literally. I forgot how to smile and appreciate smiles from new acquaintances. Yes, I was missing out on so many things.

Then I received news that a close relative died last week. He was 31 years old. Only two years older than I am. Read more

Music is the purest form of art

I was browsing around YouTube when I stumbled upon two videos of the choral group from UP Diliman where I was a member of. These two Filipino love songs in particular were my favorites. I was part of soprano 1, which had nice parts in both songs. Surprisingly, I can still sing along with these videos after almost 10 years of not actively pursuing my passion for singing. (Does singing lullabies to my son count?)

These songs make me want to visit UP again. In fact, I’m kinda feeling nostalgic about hours of lovely afternoon strolls or an afternoon chitchat with a classmate or a roommate at the Sunken Garden.