Oct29 In Caba, La Union
October 29, 2017 in Caba, La Union
I put the palms of my hand on the marble wall, like pushing it, at the sides where Papa’s name was etched in black. It was cold, that wall, on a hot and humid day, which gave a sense of relief to me. I whispered, ‘I miss you, Papa’, in between deep breaths as I climbed up the hilly slope of our public cemetery. Papa and his family rested on a place where a full view of our town can be seen, and that Caba sunset. Even from their resting place, they sit atop a hill, witness to God’s everyday miracles.
I have not been ‘up’ in a while, it was difficult to reach the area for someone overweight and who abhors exercise. Aside from the fact that a snake or some other creature may suddenly decide to find out how a foot tastes like. This year, I decided to climb because I had dreams of me and my palms on that marble wall but the paint which was used to carve out ‘Edgar P. Castillejos’ was fading. Perhaps Papa was telling me I had to go ‘up’ and fix it. Or that he misses me, too.
My boys, Claro and Eric went up first, together with Beks, the sister who paints her face more often than she brushes her hair. Yes, she may be vain with her face, but she does not hesitate to wrestle when it is for those we value. My son Aidan, my nephew Miggy, our newbie in the family Troy, also proceeded with me of course, stealing the limelight from all of them. One misstep for me climbing would mean I might join Papa and our dear departed earlier than expected.
On top, we carefully placed the flowers and the candles in remembrance of Papa, Lola Corazon and Auntie Christian. Miggy started to ask questons, the first of which was: who was ‘Christian’? I wanted to be witty and answer, ‘me’, but then again I thought it would have been a bad joke. So I told him about Auntie Christian, and why I was named ‘Christianne’ in her honor. I answered other questions which ensued, mostly about Papa, Lolo, Lola. It was beginning to be an interesting conversation, with Claro interjecting somewhere that Mama passed away on one Christmas Day. He noticed when he placed the flowers by Mama’s resting place. I wanted to tell him, ‘yes Claro, you have been doing this with us for years, you noticed just now?’. Of course I did not tell him that, I am touched that Caba is now part of his life this month, each year.
The three girls; Ana, Gabby, and Kring, stayed ‘below’ watching the flowers and candles we offered for Mama and her family, while giggling about the fact that I sorely looked stupid climbing. And perhaps with Kring ready to pounce on anyone who would attempt to touch the flowers. Ana was tired of driving for the family the whole two days; Gabby was too fragile; and Kriska was just, well, ‘too Kriska’ to climb. I chose the day to go and pay respects to our departed loved ones because it was rare that the line-up of characters in our family series is complete. I thought our family would smile from the heavens seeing all of us there. Except for the brother, Allan, who was to come with us, but there was a bit of boo-boo in his poo-poo, (sorry), he asked to stay home.
We asked Aidan to pray for the souls of our families who joined God ahead of us, which he promptly did because the boy is big on praying. (I am, too, but well, he is ‘bigger’ in that sense.) and so he said the prayer, and I took in this from the several lines he uttered:
‘....we pray for the souls of our departed; we are not here just for ourselves but also for them...for we would not be here if not for their sacrifices...’
That hit home. On top of us being complete in attendance (me, Allan but not really, Beks and the kids in La Union which includes Kriska), we really were there to remember and honor our loved ones who went before us, for their sacrifices. That is the meaning of the All Souls Day for us each year, it just took Aidan to say it in prayer for us.
And so we thank them, not only this time of each year, but everyday for being who they were in our lives. Not all of our kids had the privilege of knowing them, still, they know in their hearts who they were and the love that they brought into this world. Their generation is living proof.
I put the palms of my hand on the marble wall, like pushing it, at the sides where Papa’s name was etched in black. It was cold, that wall, on a hot and humid day, which gave a sense of relief to me. I whispered, ‘I miss you, Papa’, in between deep breaths as I climbed up the hilly slope of our public cemetery. Papa and his family rested on a place where a full view of our town can be seen, and that Caba sunset. Even from their resting place, they sit atop a hill, witness to God’s everyday miracles.
I have not been ‘up’ in a while, it was difficult to reach the area for someone overweight and who abhors exercise. Aside from the fact that a snake or some other creature may suddenly decide to find out how a foot tastes like. This year, I decided to climb because I had dreams of me and my palms on that marble wall but the paint which was used to carve out ‘Edgar P. Castillejos’ was fading. Perhaps Papa was telling me I had to go ‘up’ and fix it. Or that he misses me, too.
My boys, Claro and Eric went up first, together with Beks, the sister who paints her face more often than she brushes her hair. Yes, she may be vain with her face, but she does not hesitate to wrestle when it is for those we value. My son Aidan, my nephew Miggy, our newbie in the family Troy, also proceeded with me of course, stealing the limelight from all of them. One misstep for me climbing would mean I might join Papa and our dear departed earlier than expected.
On top, we carefully placed the flowers and the candles in remembrance of Papa, Lola Corazon and Auntie Christian. Miggy started to ask questons, the first of which was: who was ‘Christian’? I wanted to be witty and answer, ‘me’, but then again I thought it would have been a bad joke. So I told him about Auntie Christian, and why I was named ‘Christianne’ in her honor. I answered other questions which ensued, mostly about Papa, Lolo, Lola. It was beginning to be an interesting conversation, with Claro interjecting somewhere that Mama passed away on one Christmas Day. He noticed when he placed the flowers by Mama’s resting place. I wanted to tell him, ‘yes Claro, you have been doing this with us for years, you noticed just now?’. Of course I did not tell him that, I am touched that Caba is now part of his life this month, each year.
The three girls; Ana, Gabby, and Kring, stayed ‘below’ watching the flowers and candles we offered for Mama and her family, while giggling about the fact that I sorely looked stupid climbing. And perhaps with Kring ready to pounce on anyone who would attempt to touch the flowers. Ana was tired of driving for the family the whole two days; Gabby was too fragile; and Kriska was just, well, ‘too Kriska’ to climb. I chose the day to go and pay respects to our departed loved ones because it was rare that the line-up of characters in our family series is complete. I thought our family would smile from the heavens seeing all of us there. Except for the brother, Allan, who was to come with us, but there was a bit of boo-boo in his poo-poo, (sorry), he asked to stay home.
We asked Aidan to pray for the souls of our families who joined God ahead of us, which he promptly did because the boy is big on praying. (I am, too, but well, he is ‘bigger’ in that sense.) and so he said the prayer, and I took in this from the several lines he uttered:
‘....we pray for the souls of our departed; we are not here just for ourselves but also for them...for we would not be here if not for their sacrifices...’
That hit home. On top of us being complete in attendance (me, Allan but not really, Beks and the kids in La Union which includes Kriska), we really were there to remember and honor our loved ones who went before us, for their sacrifices. That is the meaning of the All Souls Day for us each year, it just took Aidan to say it in prayer for us.
And so we thank them, not only this time of each year, but everyday for being who they were in our lives. Not all of our kids had the privilege of knowing them, still, they know in their hearts who they were and the love that they brought into this world. Their generation is living proof.
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