Light passing on

13 Sept 2012  (three weeks ago)

My cousin is dead.  Shot down yesterday.  Who would have thought she’d leave in that manner?

Good-looking in a carefree way, she was very friendly, bubbly.  Almost always giggling and laughing even while she spoke, minsan nakakainis na in fact.

She lived with us in Iloilo for probably a year or so when she was in her teens.  My most vivid memory of that time is of me mean to her.  No excuse, this, but that was my early high school period, one of the most difficult for me, an angsty and angry adolescent.

But she took it like the high-minded and big-hearted person that she was.  She treated me with great understanding which at that time I did not have the wisdom to appreciate.   I guess  those times in the past thereafter when somebody, “unprovoked”, just became nasty to me, were just the natural boomerang of what I dealt her.

Tatay, ever the fair person, loving me but not condoning my asshole behavior to her, my cousin on my mother’s side, in calm tones said to me “When you meet her later (in life), she just might spit on you.”  My father did not add, “And you would deserve it” but he might as well have spelled it out.

Guilty as charged.  I believe I have already asked forgiveness for this unfortunate episode in my life and met the painful consequences of such action through time that’s why it no longer weighs heavily on me.

While with us, she excelled both in the short course she took and in winning over her classmates and teachers.  Active in extra curriculars, she shone in scriptwriting, directing and starring in  a play, delivering a declamation piece, and, needless to mention, reaping awards for herself and her group in a small school at the City Proper.

She returned to her family’s home in Pateros, Manila, studied at Philippine Normal, worked, got married, had children, lived (with her husband and children) abroad and, once back here in the Philippines, pursued a career in teaching public high school kids.

We reconnected when I studied and lived (and later worked) in Manila.  She treated me very well as she always had.  No mean bone for me.

Our last memorable meeting was a number of years ago when she returned to the country to bury her eldest son who stayed with her parents here.  My godson Popoy.  She narrated the intermingling of events and the thoughts-emotions she, a mother who was in another country when her young son drew his last breath, had.

One consolation in her passing on even a violent death for a never-say-die happy person, is that at least she is now reunited with her Popoy.

I noted from her posts on Facebook early this year that she had become quite busy with activities of the teachers’ union of which she has become an officer.

As I write this now, I feel weak.  Heat is slowly emanating from my eyes, earlier from my head.  This week I feel down for not so clear reasons.  Maybe I let myself get caught up in busyness I didn’t have time to check with myself “Wassup with you Pat?” Uncertain thought-feelings in the workplace swirl about regarding us teachers and staff’s stay in the school–Will we be asked to renew our contracts when it ends?  I tell myself it would be good to continue with what I am doing.  But there is also a letting go.  I have taught myself time and again not to be attached to my present job.  When I was applying for it, I decided not to want it too much.  I just let myself be guided.  I believe I was led where I am.  If for some reason I don’t get my contract renewed then so be it. “Whatever card is dealt me I will accept best way I can,” I heard a voice say from within me.

Ate Carmelita, you also let go of your loving hold of your eldest child Popoy when he died.  You may have been a buffoon sometimes when you laughed so loudly but you got the essence of loving with an open hand and a very short memory for offenses dealt you by people.

You may have been “put away” because you knew about irregular things in an association where you are a member of the Board of Directors.  If this is true, I believe you have already forgiven the culprits in your shooting-to-death, but I know that you would also want for truth to surface and justice to prevail.

I am sorry I did not go out of my way these past years to meaningfully connect with you or visit you in your home even if you have made it clear I am most welcome anytime.

I replied to your pangungumusta a couple of times or so on Facebook, wala lang.  That was it, tapos, tapos na.

Thank you for your understanding, patience and big warm heart.  Soon I may just hear you up there letting loose your crazy-as laughter with the angels and our relatives who’ve also gone on ahead (back).

See you whenever.  You will always be here in my heart, ironically, even more so now that you’re no longer physically on Earth.  Your passing on makes me want to at least be more caring and “there” for people especially those reaching out to me, asking me to see them.  Help me pray that I can really do this.

Madamu gid nga salamat Ate Carmelita.  And don’t reply to me in confidently delivered but awkward to listen to Ilonggo with Tagalog accent, please!  Tawa ka na naman dyan!