To The Woman Who Raised Giants
I don’t deal well with the
concept with death. You see, I haven't accepted mortality. Serious
situations already make me uncomfortable and what is more serious than death?
Whenever a friend’s or colleague’s loved one dies, I don’t know what to say. My
mom said to sincerely send my condolences, but I never felt that was sufficient.
I normally uncomfortably say “I’m sorry to hear that…” and offer them a hug.
But I always felt like a fraud. What can I say or do to make it okay?
Nothing. The answer is nothing. The
fact of the matter is there is nothing I can do or say to make that grieving
person feel any better right now. Their loved one is gone. No matter your
belief or whatever you think happens after someone dies. No matter your
uncertainty or discomfort. You will never see them again. This is a situation
I’ve tried to accept and try to brush off.
Until a few weeks ago.
The days leading up to that Thursday was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. I didn't really know my lola that well, but I knew I had to be there.
So I got my ass on a bus and traveled for
about 4 hours to her funeral for 2 main reasons:
1) To pay my respects:
I got to the church towards the end of
mass. I stayed at the back before going to my dad (who was at the front) and observed. That church was full of people. People who loved her and respected her. What a wonderful life she must have led.
2) For my Papa:
It’s important to preface this by
saying my dad and I aren’t very close. Don’t get me wrong, we love each other
and we make sure we have an open communication, but that’s about it.
My dad lost his mom that day and I
cannot even imagine what that is like. As I was standing at the back of the
church, I saw my dad at the front. I hesitated at first but walked up to him
and gave him a hug. In my 27 years of life, I have never seen my dad cry.
Until
that day.
So what do I do now? What could I say to this okay? My mind went on overdrive but I couldn’t move. I
just waited it out. Cried and waited it out.
After mass and on the way to the
cemetery, my dad became his chatty self again. We talked about Batangas’
capitol building, politics, and other people. We took a break from talking when
he carried Lola’s casket to her final resting place. Silence.
Then after that he wasa chatty again.
That was when I realize how my dad and I are similar. We deal with sensitive
situations similarly. We talk. We make
jokes. We try to forget for just a moment what is at the present.
I had to go home that evening. So
after hugging my dad goodbye, I promised myself I would see him more often. And
left. I didn’t want to make him feel more awkward than he already does. Then
off I went.
So here are my thoughts on
mortality:
I believe that God exists. Now, I’m
not sure on the religion part, but I know that God and miracles are real. That there is more to life than being born and dying. So, with that
in mind I also believe that there is a heaven and that there are different
versions of it. My version of heaven is
where loved ones reunite. Where my lola is back with my lolo and their parents.
And where one day my dad and titas and titos will be back with their parents.
And where one day, if I’m lucky and worthy enough…I’ll have my Lola Lucing
looking for me again to make sure I’ve eaten and give me sliced green mangoes
for merienda J
This is dedicated to you Lola and to
the Magadia family. To the woman who raised giants.
"From Where You Are" by Lifehouse
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