Honey Is Home

I stared into space for two nights, wondering why Honey was called home when hours before that, she asked me if I wanted a bottle of Pepsi. My mind was actually blank, other than that question. I rarely space out. But this time, it was like I was living a nightmare.

Today, we said our final goodbyes to an amazing woman we all called, 'Honey'. In church, those who offered flowers by her casket aside from her large family were of different ages: the children, whom she has conversations with when they would yell 'Honey' to buy their candies; teens who are friends of her grandchildren who would visit her compound; friends of her nieces and nephews, who grew up with Honey 'mothering' them as much as her own nieces and nephews; middle-aged men and women who were perhaps one time her students when she worked at the university; the folks in the barangay from whom Honey got her 'chicka' fix for the day. She touched so many lives. 

I was asked to speak in a tribute for her on her last night at home, a request I honestly wanted to refuse simply because I felt it was not my place to say anything about Honey's life. I lived with her for only three years or so, and many others could have spoken more of the memories they had with her than I could. But then again, I felt stongly that Honey wanted me to say something, anything, as she has always claimed she thought of me as her 'adopted daughter'.

So I did, and took the opportunity to tell the story of Honey's last few hours in this world. I had to relive it, as the experience gnawed on my soul for days. My time to speak, I used to feed my hunger to freely grieve. 

Her family offered me unending 'thank you's', but I could not reply, 'you are welcome'; or any proper response. It is not that I am not touched by their affection, it is because I feel strongly that I was the one who is supposed to thank them, not the other way around. Honey's family embraced me into their lives like I was their own. With Honey and her family, I am myself and accepted, respected and loved, no questions, no strings attached. I have never in my life met people who are like them, and I count myself to be blessed to be in their lives. 

To Honey, the word 'family' is like a huge bear hug, everyone who wanted to feel warmth, respect, wholehearted concern, and love, is welcome to snuggle. To her, 'family' is not determined by relations of blood, but by the coming together of hearts. 

Thank you, Honey, for leaving me with yet another 'family'. I will keep you in my heart, always.