Repainted

Their names are etched on marble, now more pronounced,  as years of degradation has rendered these names unseen. We had them repainted and cleaned in time for the yearly tradition of remembering those who passed on. As usual, we went to visit a day before the typical. For some reason, we would rather be there to pay our respects to our departed with some privacy. The tradition has evolved through time such that it has become an opportunity to eat, drink and be merry, Filipino style. Given our propensity to overdo things, we all know that before the sun sets, more than a handful of men (even women) would have to be literally be carried home for having one too many. Or worse, a handful would have already gotten into fistfights over some petty thing. The worst is when someone decides to put up a videoke machine and start singing 'My Way', for all the people to hear. 

Candles and flowers we lit earlier are probably on another departed soul's place now. The baskets and bunch of flowers will quickly be subjects of 'finders-keepers'. That's alright with us. As long as we have honored the memories of those we love, sharing is not so bad. The act of 'stealing' the candles and flowers cheapens the tradition, but still, if that is how others would like to honor their dearly departed, that is on them.

I was ambivalent this afternoon. I was trying to grope for what I was feeling in my heart, I could not find it. I lit Mama her yearly one stick of smokes, still I felt nothing. I was searching for that 'missing them' part, or maybe we have already outgrown that. Then I focused on their names. Now I can read them. And when they were born and when they passed away. They were here once, in our lifetime, as the people who hold dear in our hearts but were taken from us, by the will of our God. They were the main characters in our lives, there in every milestone, in every chapter we begin and end. Some of us may have forgotten who they were, their contributions to who we are now, if at all, so their fading names on those walls. At a simple stroke of paint and brush, we are reminded. They were here.

I think about each one of them now, as I get ready for sleep. It is not just the rewriting of a name that must awaken the memories we have of Papa, Mama, Lolo, Lola and the rest. We honor their memories by simply showing up, get up each morning with the purpose of living our lives for and with each other. 'For and with each other'. I continue to hope, repainting their names in black, etched in my mind, felt by my heart.