I have never experienced a death of a close relative until August 10, 2009. Before that I have seen people pass away, but none of them truly mattered to me. Usually these were people who I didn’t know personally. I’m not saying that I didn’t feel any sympathy for these people, but what I’m saying is I that I never felt that I lost anyone since they weren’t close to me. I knew that it was inevitable and eventually I would experience a death of an immediate family member. It did happen, on the date that I previously mentioned, it was my grandfather who died. It was just then that I realized how it felt to loose someone you loved. I felt devastated when I first heard the news. I wish that I could have another day with him, just to talk and hangout with him and say that we love him for one last time. Two years ago he had a stroke and it caused him a lot of complications. The last and final one that caused his death was kidney failure. I saw how he suffered and how he became paralyzed at his own home. I thought that it was unfair, he was alive but he couldn’t live because of the restrictions he had. He couldn’t get out of the house and he had to follow a strict diet. When he died I thought, at least now he could rest and finally go eat anything he wants. He loved eating.
The night after his death we went to his house in Bulacan to hold his wake. When we arrived my aunts, grandmother, and cousins were already there. As soon as I entered the house I felt an eerie silence in the usually alive and busy house. For the first time I saw my aunts shed tears, I saw genuine sadness in their eyes. I wasn’t used to seeing them like this, because most of the time they kept emotions to themselves. My grandmother, the usually vibrant, energetic, and eccentric person was quiet and still. Not even her favorite grandchildren could make her smile. My cousins, they were too young to grasp and understand what was going on. They even turned it into a game; first one to awaken lolo (grandfather) wins. They asked me, “ When would lolo wake up and get out of his box?” All I could say to them was, “ keep trying to wake him up.” There were lots of preparations to be made. The house was busy. My aunts and grandmother, despite the intense sadness that they felt, were preparing food for the guests. My dad the usual orchestrator of family events was busy fixing the itinerary. People kept going in and out of the house. There were flowers, chairs, and tables being brought in. The flower arrangement was beautiful, a mixture of yellow and white. I thought that it was like preparing for a party for an indefinite number of guests.
The next day, the guests started to arrive. Some I knew while most of them I didn’t. There were also some friends of my grandfather who came who haven’t seen him for more than a decade. The most common reason why they didn’t see each other was because they never had time and they lived too far away. I could see in their faces that they were surprised to find out that he was dead now. I thought that this was because; they failed to keep in touch with him. They took him for granted, like I did. Like me I thought that he was a constant, I thought he was always going to be there. I knew that sooner or later he was going to pass away, but I tried to neglect this fact. I also heard some stories about my grandfather. These stories were mostly about his generosity, they said that he kept giving even though there were times people abused his selflessness. He offered people help by lending them money. He was a simple man, he wasn’t rich but he tried to help people as much as he could. Somehow when guests tell good things about my grandfather it made me feel better, and I saw that it had the same effect on my close relatives. Suddenly some of them were now smiling.
Eventually the mood of my family changed. We all felt better. I guess this was because of the support and warmth that the guests gave us. They were very supportive; the fact that they came meant so much to us. Despite having to explain how my grandfather died over and over again, my aunts, dad, and grandmother seemed ok with it. Now they could explain it without being overly emotional. I’m not saying that we were already over it, but what I’m saying is that we were getting better. The whole event now seemed to be like a family reunion. Now I was able to hear laughter unlike the first night wherein the house seemed so quiet. I was happy to see some relatives whom I haven’t seen in a while. Somehow his death was the key to reunite friends and relatives. In a span of two days there were about 300-400 guests who came to pay respect to my grandfather. We all appreciated their homage very much, since it made us feel better.
On the last night of the wake, three consecutive masses were held. The Knights of Columbus administered the first mass. This was the group wherein my grandfather was an active member. It was in this group that he became a papal awardee. The second mass, by, Marriage Encounter. A priest, who was a close friend of my family, ministered the last mass. For every one of these masses, it would end with my family falling in line to place flowers on top of my grandfather’s coffin. During the mass my family was quiet, again the look of grief showed upon their faces. There were times I would see tears being shed, either by my mother, aunts, grandmother, or other relatives. My dad was strong, he never shed a tear but you could tell that he was sad. He looked like someone who was in intense deep thought. The last time we fell in line to place roses on top of my grandfather’s coffin felt like saying my final goodbye to him. I wasn’t able to attend his burial, because I had an exam on that day, my professor wouldn’t give me a make-up exam. I didn’t go to his funeral because I wanted to follow one of the things that my grandfather had instilled in me. He told me that whatever happens, I should finish and never neglect my studies. He told me that while I’m young I should prioritize my studies.
-by Nathaniel Allen P. Tiongson
093744 EN11 R11
The night after his death we went to his house in Bulacan to hold his wake. When we arrived my aunts, grandmother, and cousins were already there. As soon as I entered the house I felt an eerie silence in the usually alive and busy house. For the first time I saw my aunts shed tears, I saw genuine sadness in their eyes. I wasn’t used to seeing them like this, because most of the time they kept emotions to themselves. My grandmother, the usually vibrant, energetic, and eccentric person was quiet and still. Not even her favorite grandchildren could make her smile. My cousins, they were too young to grasp and understand what was going on. They even turned it into a game; first one to awaken lolo (grandfather) wins. They asked me, “ When would lolo wake up and get out of his box?” All I could say to them was, “ keep trying to wake him up.” There were lots of preparations to be made. The house was busy. My aunts and grandmother, despite the intense sadness that they felt, were preparing food for the guests. My dad the usual orchestrator of family events was busy fixing the itinerary. People kept going in and out of the house. There were flowers, chairs, and tables being brought in. The flower arrangement was beautiful, a mixture of yellow and white. I thought that it was like preparing for a party for an indefinite number of guests.
The next day, the guests started to arrive. Some I knew while most of them I didn’t. There were also some friends of my grandfather who came who haven’t seen him for more than a decade. The most common reason why they didn’t see each other was because they never had time and they lived too far away. I could see in their faces that they were surprised to find out that he was dead now. I thought that this was because; they failed to keep in touch with him. They took him for granted, like I did. Like me I thought that he was a constant, I thought he was always going to be there. I knew that sooner or later he was going to pass away, but I tried to neglect this fact. I also heard some stories about my grandfather. These stories were mostly about his generosity, they said that he kept giving even though there were times people abused his selflessness. He offered people help by lending them money. He was a simple man, he wasn’t rich but he tried to help people as much as he could. Somehow when guests tell good things about my grandfather it made me feel better, and I saw that it had the same effect on my close relatives. Suddenly some of them were now smiling.
Eventually the mood of my family changed. We all felt better. I guess this was because of the support and warmth that the guests gave us. They were very supportive; the fact that they came meant so much to us. Despite having to explain how my grandfather died over and over again, my aunts, dad, and grandmother seemed ok with it. Now they could explain it without being overly emotional. I’m not saying that we were already over it, but what I’m saying is that we were getting better. The whole event now seemed to be like a family reunion. Now I was able to hear laughter unlike the first night wherein the house seemed so quiet. I was happy to see some relatives whom I haven’t seen in a while. Somehow his death was the key to reunite friends and relatives. In a span of two days there were about 300-400 guests who came to pay respect to my grandfather. We all appreciated their homage very much, since it made us feel better.
On the last night of the wake, three consecutive masses were held. The Knights of Columbus administered the first mass. This was the group wherein my grandfather was an active member. It was in this group that he became a papal awardee. The second mass, by, Marriage Encounter. A priest, who was a close friend of my family, ministered the last mass. For every one of these masses, it would end with my family falling in line to place flowers on top of my grandfather’s coffin. During the mass my family was quiet, again the look of grief showed upon their faces. There were times I would see tears being shed, either by my mother, aunts, grandmother, or other relatives. My dad was strong, he never shed a tear but you could tell that he was sad. He looked like someone who was in intense deep thought. The last time we fell in line to place roses on top of my grandfather’s coffin felt like saying my final goodbye to him. I wasn’t able to attend his burial, because I had an exam on that day, my professor wouldn’t give me a make-up exam. I didn’t go to his funeral because I wanted to follow one of the things that my grandfather had instilled in me. He told me that whatever happens, I should finish and never neglect my studies. He told me that while I’m young I should prioritize my studies.
-by Nathaniel Allen P. Tiongson
093744 EN11 R11
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