Take it from me

It was a year ago. Around the first few months of 2006 when Lolo Ben died. He is the youngest of the Baladads. He was my Papa Ciano’s brother. Lolo Ben was the Barangay Captain of Barangay Libertad before.

Around the time of vigil, people came to Lolo Ben’s house to pay their last respect to the desceased barangay captain. I remember, it was like today: a dark, damp, rainy night when we found out that Lolo Ben had passed away. Such a sad story, that is haunting me right now.

Lolo Ben was a kind man. He went to our house to play our piano. I would remember listening to the music he played from my room, but then, I was young at that time, so I barely even remembered. I watched the sky, as the same people I’ve seen in the Lolo Ben’s vigil came ’round to remember Lolo Ben’s first death anniversary.

I could remember, during the last day of vigil, the day before the burial, my cousins Ate King and Kuya Nel came ’round at our house to wake me up and go to the vigil. It was late, but I agreed anyway. We told each other to stay awake until the sun rises.

The day of the burial came. At first, I found myself in the Sto.Niño Shrine, dressed in white, looking around at my relatives. I saw Tito Tata, one of Lolo Ben’s sons who lived in Manila, fighting back from tears. So did Uncle Bimbo, Uncle Benjie, and the other children of Lolo Ben. It was such a sad sight. When the priest started to bless Lolo Ben’s casket, tears just started to run out of almost everyone’s eyes. Lolo Ben’s children, grandchildren and his wife, Lola Gloria, were in total grief. Lolo Ben’s remaining brothers and sisters shared the same grief, along with the other family relatives and friends. The whole church seemed to be such a sad place that day. I found myself sprinkling Lolo Ben’s casket with Holy Water, as tears also ran from my eyes.

The rain added to the gloomy sight when we entered the cementery. The place was muddy, and there were big puddles of water that  we had to get across. Then, Lolo Ben was put to rest. Lola Gloria was really in disbelief that her husband was dead. As I watched the burial took place, Lolo Ben’s children and grandchildren didn’t take the tears back. They clung together for comfort, and tried to be brave and accept the hard fact that Lolo Ben was gone.

It’s such a hard thing to lose a family member. I’ve never really experienced the real pain Lolo Ben’s bereaved family had to endure. Lolo Ben, wherever you are, I hope that you are happy in the hands of God.

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