Cu Chi Tunnels

Sad/happy reunion

Flory's funeral
Loyola Memorial Park, Marikina
Feb. 16, 2011

Rainy November 1

I am awakened by the strong rain. I remember it is  November 1. And I remember Mama and all the rainy All Saints Day we had to bear when we were young.

It begun in 1971, a few days after we had just buried Lola Ipay, who died on October 25, in Loyola Memorial Park . Before that, we had always gone to the cemeteries in San Pablo and Sta. Cruz to visit our dead. I don't ever remember that it rained during those times and having had to do anything taxing except to locate the grave site of our relatives. So when we had to spend Nov 1 that year in Loyola, we were not prepared for what would transpire.

That first time, it took us hours to get to Marikina from the corner of Katipunan, a ride that would normally take 15 minutes. I was amazed to see the serene memorial park of two weeks before transformed into what looked like picnic grounds with big tents dotting the landscape. That evening signaled the beginning of an annual ritual of 1) setting up the tent days before All Saints Day, 2) starting very early in the day but still enduring hours of travel of bumper-to-bumper traffic, then 3) lugging tables, chairs, food, flowers, and candles to the grave site. Whether rainy (and therefore, muddy) or steaming hot, we had lunch under the tent. We usually stayed until late afternoon or until we just had about enough of what was going on all around us. Surprisingly, teen-aged me longed to stay till it was dark because it seemed there appeared to be more action in the evenings. But that never happened because there was the tiresome task of bringing back all our stuff to the car and then bearing the lengthy trip home.

Mama did all that was needed to be done for this event with a passion. I don't know whether it was out of duty or love for our relatives buried there that she made sure everything was in place. Or was it so that she actually enjoyed being there, chatting with the "neighbors", having the whole family there eating food she prepared. I didn't share her enthusiasm for this family outing but had no choice in the matter, of course!

Things changed when in 1988, I had a legitimate reason to stay home. I had to breastfeed our 6-month old daughter who was too young to join everyone in Loyola. Everyone that year included our 5-year old son who managed to get lost in the crowds of thousands. He was later found exploring the sights on his own. It was that year that I decided that I would no longer go to Loyola on November 1. Instead, my family would pay our respects to our dead on November 2, All Souls Day, when traffic was lighter, crowds were sparse, and the placed looked more like a park than a circus.

Mama continued to go to Loyola on November 1 with my cousins until one year, when she was nearing her 80s, she said she preferred to join us. She had, on that day, passed on the baton of the responsibility of taking charge of the Loyola visits to me. 

Today, Mama and Papa are both buried there now and I sort of understand now why Mama was so devoted to her annual rituals. It was her way of professing of her undying love for those who lay there. I guess the tradition (with my modifications) will go on because they make sure that our ties with our loved ones will always remain. Through heat, through mud, through rain!

 

Babang-luksa

Mama's 1st death anniversary
June 11, 2010

Josefina Quisumbing-Ramilo: Bong's Tribute to Mama

http://bramilo.multiply.com/journal/item/33/33
This is something Bong wrote about and for Mama when he was still in Darwin, waiting to come home for Mama's wake and funeral in June 2009

Susan, 53 and Mae, 50

After Mama, Joy's Tatay also in June.

And deaths continue in July. First, Susan Fernandez-Magno, who would have turned 53. Then Mae Espino who was going to be 50. They were people whose lives intersected with mine. Women who shared the angst and joys of my generation.

I realize all the more that Mortality is just around the corner.

It was good for the soul

I am in Tagaytay for the weekend. To do a research report still unwritten way past its deadline. It wasn't easy getting here. Gathering people together on a common time and a willingness to go out of town just to complete this task met some barriers. When it was finally decided that  Jay and I would go this weekend, Kara got sick. Symptoms of the dreaded swine flu scared the household and that promptly led me to cancel the plan. When her fever subsided after a day, I thought working in my office or in a rented room in a nearby hotel would suffice. Tried going to at least 4 places but they were nowhere near my expectations in terms of cost and security considerations.

But typical of me, I would not, could not let go of the idea of working away from my everyday distractions. I knew that I could write in a day what it would take a week if I did it in my home or office. It was not out of whimsy that I wanted to do this. I just knew what I had to do to meet this urgency.

So I pursued Tagaytay once  again. My favorite place for working couldn't accommodate me this time. They had a death in their community and were too busy to attend to me. So I opted for the next best place, counting on the generosity of a friend who arranged for it. Puede naman! Yay!

There was no available vehicle to bring me up as two cars were not roadworthy. But no, I could take the bus with Jay. No problem! Then on the morning of the departure, Jay called to say he couldn't  join me as he was being asked to go home because his father was sick. Haay! 

That didn't stop me though. And because I would be alone, Tito decided to ask the driver to bring me up using the Innova. And he promised to pick me up the next day. Transportation glitch solved!

On the way there, it dawned upon me that there was in all probability one more reason I persisted in doing this despite all the stumbling blocks. In the car, still along EDSA, I put on the iPod to listen to my fave tunes in it. When "Lullabye" by Billy Joel came on, the tears started to fall and they wouldn't stop. I was shamelessly shedding tears every few minutes. This was not the first time this song had this effect on me. The first time was when Papa died and now that both of them were gone, it was not hard to imagine both Mama and Papa singing the song for me.   

The tears continued on the SLEX, in Tapa King in Sta. Rosa, in SVD while in the privacy of my room. Anywhere. It mattered little now if anyone would notice. There was no stopping the dam unleashed.

Yes, I was brought to Tagaytay because I needed to cry, to purge myself of all the hurt,  and to admit my shortcomings.  I think I will still cry some more for Mama and Papa in the future but hopefully, for joyous reasons.

I listened to my soul, against all odds, and I'm glad I did!

 

The sky is crying for me

Do not be fooled
By the facade of strength
and Zen calmness

Inside me dwells
A well of grief
For things that couldn't be
And for someone
I will never again see.

Rain is pouring, steady, strong
Then it stops, only to come back again
And again...and again
Challenging my child-like faith
That the sun would light her way Home.

But no, the sky is in mourning too

Shedding the tears

That I do not care to show

Slowly washing away

Regrets and resentments

Till they be no more

 

The garden she loved is green

The leaves glisten

The flowers are in bloom

They have been watered

By memories of one who loved us

Above all.

 

I am at peace.

For Mama (December 12, 1922 - June 11, 2009)
 

The KIWI

He knew what he wanted. He knew his physical limitation yet he circumvented this. He knocked down all the stumbling blocks in his life. He did not give up. He toiled long and hard. He shed a tear for his triumph. Not allowing the prospect of death to get in the way of his dream!

I envy the KIWI!

Mortality

When you have microcalcifications in your left breast and a myoma in your reproductive area, you have to think about it. Death, that is. But why do I bear the possibility with such calm detachment? I would expect trepidation or even panic. Maybe because I know it's not that serious? Or maybe because I just don't care? Dying, that is!