Remembering the dead…

The month of November is set aside for the remembrance of those who had passed away. November 1st of each year is the celebration of All Saints Day and the 2nd of November is devoted to the remembrance of the dead. In many places in the Philippines, people go to the cemetery on the 1st of November. For the first two days of November, the cemeteries are transformed into major hubs where people meet their kinfolks, former classmates and friends heard and seen a year ago. In many ways, the remembrance of the dead has become also a powerful and continuing ‘glue’ to the ever growing family. It recognizes a common ancestry to growing family branches that have multiplied through the years and have gone far and wide. In years past, the remembrance of the dead was solemn and very religious. People offer Masses and prayers for their beloved dead. Later in the afternoon until evening they visit the cemeteries to light candles and place flowers in the tombs of their beloved. As the world has become more secular, the religious rituals have become more subdued and the cemeteries have practically become carnivals complete with shows and all sorts of games. The remembrance of the dead has become a big commercial enterprise with the trappings of showbiz! There is no ‘turning the clock back’, except for some nostalgic reminiscences of the bygone times and ages! There is the joyful celebration of the All Saints Day, November 1st, and All Souls Day, Nov. 2nd. The more religious members of the family reserve the whole month of November to offer prayers and Masses for the departed. It is rightly so that the remembering the dead is not all sad and sorrowful! The remembrance of the departed is not simply a ‘look back’ into the bygone days. The remembrance of the ancestors is as much as a ‘look forward’. People in a friendly and hospitable environment update themselves on the development of their hometown and kinfolks. The visit to the graves make them feel anew, in a more physical way, the beliefs and values on which their forebears stood ground with dignity and pride. We are four children plus one (there is a first cousin who was adopted by my mother from birth until she was 21) that were early orphaned by a father in a plane crash. The presence of our father was kept alive not only through photos and stories that our mother never tired telling and re-telling, but also by our weekly visit to the grave after the Sunday Mass. Through the stories, he became very alive and we were taught and formed to live by his belief and values, particularly friendship with common folks, hospitality to those in need thus our home had practically become akin to ‘DSWD’. As my father was a great provider, my mother became practically the ‘mother’ of perpetual help to all who knocked at our door. Now that both are gone… we (5), their sons and daughters, continue to live by their beliefs and values. They continue to measure us not only by their hard work and generosity but also by their devotion to the Almighty and to her Blessed Mother. The two towering icons that have become the living legacy to us are the Jesus of Nazarene at the Quiapo Shrine and the Mother of Perpetual Help at the Baclaran Shrine. My saintly mom became widow at a young age of 26 years old. The tragedy of my father’s plane crash coupled with five young mouths to feed and educate was the cross she bore. Her unwavering faith in Jesus of Nazarene at Quiapo gave her that strength to carry the weight and the burden of her cross. She, too, bravely bore her cross to the end and gave life and good future to all her kids - the five of us. She would, also, constantly call on the Mother of Perpetual Help in her times of needs which was ‘always’! And the Blessed Mother had never failed to come to her side both in times of joys and adversities. The Mother of Perpetual Help had truly become the perpetual help to her. She was literally her and our own ‘life line’ in the years of our growing up. All Saints Day and All Souls Day celebrations are always special to me. They provide the occasion to come back ‘home’ to Obando, Bulacan, my first hometown (Dulawan in Maguindanao is my second). It is not only to fulfill my filial devotion to my mom and dad by lighting candles and saying prayers in their graves but it is also a precious moment to ‘re-connect’ to my kinfolks and classmates and townmates. November is an occasion I always look forward to celebrate with kinfolks and friends as I reminisce the bygone years with all the members of the tribe – living and dead!