I still feel a little queasy when I woke up this morning but then again, I had no more power to sleep. I got up and saw that my mum was preparing to go to the cemetery to visit my grandfather’s tomb. It was rather early and a little gloomy- just the kind of setting that inspires me to go with my mum.
Ever since I was a kid, our family would always visit the cemetery every November 1. All Saints Day has been a family tradition already. It was that time of the year when I would see most of my relatives. We would usually go around the cemetery and visit the tombs of our other relatives. We would offer candles, flowers and prayers. It has always been like that, well, except when I eventually aged a bit and outgrew the tradition.
For some reasons, I stopped going to the cemetery on November 1. I decided to visit the tombs of my deceased relatives before or after All Saints Day. I guess it’s my way of deviating from the norms.
Today, mum and I first went to the tomb of my grandfather. I have very few memories of him. He is mum’s father. I only hear stories of how he spoiled me. I was just 4 or 5 years old when he passed away. It’s funny because I have lost memories of him but haven’t really forgotten that day when he died. I can remember vividly…it was a morning. I opened my eyes from a deep slumber. I was flabbergasted when I saw mum crying. Dad was holding her…embracing her. I got up and went to my grandmother’s room. There were so many people comforting her. She was crying a lot. Someone went inside to give her a cup of coffee. And then blank. The next thing that I could remember was the funeral.
Mum told me that I wore a beautiful dress during the funeral. Yes, I wouldn’t get out of the house without wearing a beautiful dress. It was said that I wanted to wear something Pink but of course they wouldn’t let me since it has been a tradition to wear something black or white during the funeral. I guess they just changed my outfit afterwards. They took a photo of that day. I’ll try to find it and then upload it after.
Our next stop this morning was my grandma’s tomb. She’s my dad’s mother. I never really knew her. She succumbed to cancer when I was 3 months old. Dad said that had she been alive, she would be our shopping partner. The love for shoes, clothes and all things beautiful came from her.
I couldn’t talk to them this morning. I was easily distracted by the painters and Heart’s “These Dreams.” So I told myself that I’ll offer a short prayer and talk to them later. I often talk to them, you know? Before I sleep. Whenever I travel. When I’m truly confused. Somehow, I get the feeling that they’re just here…watching.
Mummy Goya and Tatay Tino…I’ll keep you in my heart always.