If I were in my hometown in Bacacay, Albay, I’d probably be at the cemetery, together with my mom, siblings, aunties. some cousins, and other relatives. Amidst the glow of candles, and some bouquets, we’d sit around, at times solemnly looking at each other, but more often, telling stories in soft tones, while saying hi to a relative who suddenly arrives, or putting the hand of the elderly to our forehead.

Then some snacks will materialize, despite no careful planning. Just some tiny bites, more for sharing than to eat one’s fill. Some kakanins, sandwiches, candies, water.

A few times, I’d leave for several minutes and I’d go to where my former high school classmates are, saying hi, asking how’s everyone, trying to catch up years of not seeing one another in a few minutes, then some groufies, some hugs before parting.

This was the scene when I last came home to Albay for Undas. I recalled that I got lost for a few minutes; the cemetery layout was so different from before. And there were so many people. That was expected but I wasn’t used to moving around with that huge crowd. Not that I would want to go to the cemetery by myself at night, although I did go one late morning, by myself, to go to my late father’s, late Lolo’s and late Lola’s tombs, to speak to them solemnly. silently.

Last time I went, I went to Donz’ final resting place and couldn’t stop myself from crying. We just had dinner in a heritage hotel in Albay a year before, but the next year, news of her death due to child birth complications reached me in Manila then. I asked, how, why? It’s so unfair…

Anyhow, my mind is swinging like a pendulum, going to the past, then to the present. Now, I’m by myself, in a small country in the heart of the Pacific. I can’t even light a candle at home. I can only breathe a prayer for my loved ones who already passed on.

I feel a tinge of sadness, yes. But I also feel gratitude for allowing me to experience life with them. They are part of the tapestry that made me who I am now. Their lights are like little glimmers in the night, casting a gentle glow in the surroundings. Their lives were full, not perfect, but the little parts they played completed the puzzles that formed part of my childhood, teenage years, early professional life.

I breathed a silent prayer to God to please keep my loved ones who passed on safe in your embrace. Please guide me in living my life fully before the embers lose their flicker and heat. Please let me be present. Please take care of my family, friends, and people close to my heart, and keep them safe from all harm.