Mamang's funeral

(NOTE: The dates of these blog entries for this trip are in Pacific Time, but the dates and times I mention within the blog entries are in Philippine time, GMT+8.)


A reluctant reunion

It's ironic that a separation -- a death -- causes a reunion.

Yesterday around noon, Zaldy came back with Sonia, Judith, Boyet, and a slew of children. Nancy arrived later with her oldest kid. Hugs all around. Getting reacquainted. Some of them I hadn't seen since we were very young.

In the evening, I got up from a nap and went outside. I heard that we had relatives who would come back later because Mom and I were napping when they arrived. Ate Hels and Auntie Baby saw me and led me to the living room to take pictures of Mom, Auntie Menie, and Uncle John, sitting next to each other. Later, I saw the two Carings again, and they retold the story about our meeting at the hospital.

I decided to go outside to look for Uncle David, whom I hadn't seen since I was very little, but I remember him very well. I found Uncle John having drinks with some men and then I recognized Arnel, who came around the table to give me a hug, then Danny, then finally Felix, who was sitting quietly with his usual grin. Boyet was at the end of the table. I sat with them and chatted. I saw Arnel and Danny in 2005, but I hadn't seen Felix since we were teens. He looks so much like Uncle Pablo.

I mentioned I was looking for Uncle David and Danny pointed to the head of the table, so I went over and touched Uncle David's hand to my forehead and gave him a hug. It's funny that I remember him to be much taller and more imposing.

I think it was Danny who said that it's sad that we have a reunion only when someone dies. So Uncle John suggested a reunion in 2010. I suggested 2012 so that people abroad would have a chance to save up for airfare for the whole family, but Uncle John said four years is too long for them older folks to wait.

Somehow the conversation turned into a discussion about the Bible and the Mass and God and religion and existence. You have to understand that, although we were all baptised as Roman Catholics as babies, most of us have questioned the religion we grew up with and discovered different perspectives on the subject. The funny thing was that we were next to tables of people drinking and gambling, playing either mahjong or cards.

Eventually, people slowly started leaving the table and the only ones left arguing were Boyet, Uncle John, and Uncle David. I decided I would go to bed early. I am more emotional when I'm tired and I didn't want to be emotional at the funeral. Felix and Danny had gone to the living room to say hi to Mom. I heard later that they spent hours laughing and giggling at Felix's stories.


The Mass and the funeral

I woke up at 4am to try to beat everybody to the shower. By 4:30am, I was dressed. Auntie Baby, Auntie Menie, Felix, and Danny were sitting on the patio napping. I decided to take pictures. Auntie Baby and Auntie Menie got up. I met Boyet's second son Justin who arrived during the night. He was only a baby when I last saw him. Sonia came by and chatted briefly.

It was about 6am, when Auntie Eying took out a portable keyboard and started playing and singing. She was singing "Mama" and other mother-related songs and goodbye songs. Sonia, Felix, and Danny walked away. I stayed. I probably should have left with them, but I stayed out of respect to Auntie Eying. I knew it was her way of grieving and I didn't want to leave her alone.

Music is a very emotional medium for me, and today was no exception. Her songs opened up my tears.

Mom came in and said, "Ngayon, ikaw naman." (Now, it's you.) She was crying the other night -- the first time I saw her cry. She said we should get breakfast. My tears continued through warm pandesals with scrambled eggs. Afterwards, I brushed my teeth and got ready.

It was already past 7am when a group of men in barong tagalog started loading up the flowers and lights in a van. Someone had hung a banga over the doorway earlier and someone else broke it like a pinata. Sonia said it's another tradition so that the soul doesn't stay. Ate Hels lost it when the same group of men closed the casket. Then they carried it to the church which was a couple of blocks away. The rest of us followed on foot.

There was another casket. It was of a three-year-old girl. White wood that looked so plain next to Mamang's. We thought that at least Mamang has someone to accompany her.

Auntie Eying requested that the Mass be said in English; it really wasn't necessary. I was asked to do the first reading. Then cousins and nieces and nephews did the offerings.

None of us, who argued about God and religion the previous night, took communion at the funeral mass. The prayer before communion goes, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive You,...."

After the Mass, the priests did the blessing of the caskets and we all laid flowers on it and sprinkled more of the holy water. I was teary-eyed again.

In the end, Auntie Eying asked me to sing "Ave Maria" a capella. Halfway through the first verse, I broke down and couldn't finish it. Auntie Eying made an announcement and we walked out. We boarded the different vehicles that were rented for the occasion and we started the drive back to the cemetery in Iba. It took longer than an hour because we were going slower than normal speed. We were a long caravan of at least 12 cars and jeepneys. The weather alternated between sunny and drizzly.

Zaldy was having heart palpitations before the start of Mass and they were just going to drop us off at the cemetery before they head to the hospital.

We met up with Uncle Larry, Rey, and Winnie at the cemetery. More people from Amungan also met us there. Auntie Eying led a short prayer by the gate, then we headed off to the mausoleum that Uncle John had had built for Papang and Mamang. There was a cement-lined rectangular hole on the floor on the left side. The casket was lowered with ropes and a bag of Mamang's clothes were set on top of the casket. That was another tradition. I think those were the clothes she died in. A few people threw in more flowers and then people started walking away.

I lingered. Auntie Baby asked if I wanted to stay until it was all done. I nodded and she kept me company while the workers cemented five slabs of stone at the opening. They had trouble with the last one which didn't quite fit. But after they got it down, we started back to join the rest at a nearby resort for lunch. We were lucky to find a tricycle going by.

There was a long line at the buffet table. Auntie Baby and I said hi to some relatives who were in line, then we joined Mom's table. Greetings from relatives. Goodbyes after lunch. A few news from Rey, including that Washington Mutual folded. Soon, people started leaving too.

We found Zaldy near the entrance of the resort with Aimiel and Vincent. Apparently, they didn't find a cardiologist in town. So after saying goodbye to Uncle Larry, Winnie, and Rey, we got into the red SUV again and headed back to Auntie Eying's house.


Goodbyes and butterflies

The cousins were rushing to get ready to leave so that they could get to Manila as soon as possible. Mom had asked JJ to buy some young coconut because she was craving for it. JJ put the juice in two glasses with a little of the coconut flesh. We sat on the patio while we drank our juice, then I noticed a large butterfly come into the patio. With its wings folded, the outer side of the wings were a flat black shade with well-delineated white spots. But when it opened up its wings, the upper sides were a gorgeous midnight blue with blurry-edged white spots. It flew in front of us, crossed the threshold of the house and came back outside and alighted on the ground.

"There's Mamang," I told Mom. She agreed and we watched it. I noticed that it alighted where there were black ants. Just this morning, when Auntie Baby sat next to me briefly, I saw an ant with wings crawl over the glass panel of the coffin and took it out. Auntie Baby said that it probably came from the flowers. I commented that wherever Mamang lived, there were always a lot of ants. Auntie Baby said that if they were black ants (and they were), it meant that the person is very lucky. An older lady who was listening in said, "Matamis siya." (She's sweet-tasting.)

After a long while of folding and unfolding its wings, the butterfly started fluttering about again, going into the house and out again. Then, to our surprise, it alighted on my left forefinger and stayed there for a couple of seconds or so before flying out to the garden. Mom said, "Binabati ka." (She's greeting you.)

As I watched it flutter around the shrub next to the patio, I saw another one come out from the side of the house. I said, "O, dalawa sila. Kasama niya si Papang." (Oh, there's two of them. Papang is with her.) Then it came back and alighted on the floor again, behind the chair where Mom could see it, but I couldn't.

When Auntie Eying came into the living room from the kitchen, we called her out to look at it. Then Zaldy rushed out to talk to one of the hired jeepney drivers, and the butterfly was dragged out to the garden by the wind he caused. It didn't come back.

I didn't see Arnel, Felix, and Danny again after I saw them in a car outside the church leaving for the funeral. I heard that Arnel had a stomachache so they stopped at the market.

Zaldy soon left with Sonia, Judith, Nancy, the husbands, and all the little kids. Then Ate Hels, her hubby James, Fatima, and a guest left in a white car. Justin said goodbye soon after. Only Boyet was left behind with us. Then the helpers left.

Auntie Eying said it's a good thing that we're here. It gets really depressing for her after all the kids go back to their homes.

(As I was writing this blog, a gray bird was sitting on the window ledge looking in and chirping insistently.)

Addendum: The next day, Boyet and Mom separately told me that the butterfly flew towards the back to the front of Mamang's house, where we were staying, and lingered there for a very long time. Mom said, "Hinahanap ka." (She/It is looking for you.)