October 13, 2002 ~ 11:32 p.m.
Feeling:
I went to a funeral Saturday morning. I didn't know what to expect out of it, except that it was a somewhat large family gathering. My uncle's mother had died. I say my uncle instead of 'my grandma' because even though she kind of is my grandma, my uncle is the husband of my aunt, who is my mother's sister. Which makes my uncle my mom's brother-in-law.
I heard about her death from my mom one night while I talked to her on my dad's cell phone when we were coming home from Kona one night. It was a Thursday that day, and my grandma had died the night before. I think she died because of being a high diabetic. This had happened to my dad's mom a long time ago. I was only a baby then when she died.
Anyway, I didn't know my uncle's mom that well, but she did visit my house a few times, around Thanksgiving. She was a kind, gentle woman who was very patient and very tidy, as said by uncle during the funeral eulogy. I didn't get much sleep the night before.
Me and my mom went to Sacred Hearts church Hawi in Kohala that morning. My grandma (my mom's mother) went to Kohala Friday afternoon and she stayed there overnight, watching over the casket with the rest of the family. Barely anyone got much sleep that night.
I saw some familiar family relations. I didn't go up to look into the casket until it was said that it was the last viewing. I followed behind my cousin Cherie and while everyone else was crying, I didn't know what to think or feel. Of course I felt a bit sad for the family, I hugged the daughters even though I didn't even know them that well.
I saw my grandma's face for the last time. I'm a little reluctant to call her grandma. Only because I never knew that well, and you can't really cry that much for someone you barely knew. But it was strange...to look at her face, thinking she's no longer alive, no longer the smiling old woman I once admired for the few times I saw her. It was like she was just asleep, that she would just open her eyes and wake up anytime soon. I wasn't scared...but it just felt strange. I've only looked at a dead person in a casket once before, and that was my grandpa, my dad's father.
Dead people lying in a casket always look so cold, sad, and distant. You'd think those guys who ready the body (what are they called again? Taxidermists? Yeah...I think that's it) could at least make them look a little more peaceful. Of course if they suffered before they died it wouldn't seem right to have their faces look all smiley. I feel like I'm being insulting.
During the viewing, one of the oldest daughters cried and cried, she nearly passed out, many people were around her, even her own daughter cried for her. It was heartbreaking to see a person mourn so much. I wish I could have been more sympathetic. Thinking about it makes me feel that sorrow now.
After the funeral ceremony, they brought the casket to the cemetary for the burial. The casket was pure white, it had a feathery fabric with flowers imprinted in it. The sons of my grandma (Florencia) and nephews of my uncle, helped to lower the casket into the space they dug. She was buried over her beloved husband who had died 4 years before. Father Maurice said the prayers and then we all got a carnation and put them on the casket before they lowered it. The hole wasn't that deep so it didn't take too long for a bunch of men to cover up the hole.
After the hole was filled, they covered it with all the bouquets of flowers that the family members made. Then one of my uncle's nephews stuck in a wooden cross that my uncle made for the grave. There was a gravestone already made, that they would later engrave their mother's name and picture, next to her husband. People took pictures of the burial, though it seemed a little odd to do so.
I just watched the burial, and one of the sons next to me had his daughter, and I heard her ask, "Does it hurt her?" and her father replied, "No it doesn't hurt her anymore. Grandma is going to heaven." Almost made me cry.
My other grandma made arranged a bouquet of flowers for Florencia, and on the white ribbon she stuck on gold letters over black which I helped her with days before that said: "Camero-Family" and on the other ribbon: "Balio-Jose-Aid." Ehh...there were no more "L" stickers and "A" to add at the end of my mom's name. So my grandma couldn't put in family. I told her she should've bought more...
After the burial there was a luncheon, and there was a pan of hot water that had something in it. I didn't know what it was but it made the water look dirty and brown, but I knew it had to be something else. Well anyway guests had to wash their hands in that hot water and the ladies would dip their hands in the water and wash your face. Then we entered the hall, they said the prayer before lunch, and we ate.
Then after a while me, my mom and grandma went to my uncle's house so my grandma could pick up her bag. We stayed there for a while, everyone groggy and tired. We stayed there most of the day, and after did my mom got some vegetables from my aunt's garden did we go home.
Enough for grievance, here came a strange twist later that afternoon.
Then I checked the phone for who had called and I called Bridget. I knew it was her birthday today so after her dad gave her the phone I sang Happy Birthday to her. Then invited me to dinner at her house and later me and my mom went.
It went ok, the food was good, and we laughed when people did 'Hula Bira'. Ok, so maybe that's not the right spelling. But in Filipino that's what they call charades.
So it was a strange day...in the morning I experience sorrow and greiveance, and at night I experience happiness and laughter.
But there is still one thing prodding my mind...
Can't take this crap anymore...
Torn
Staying Strong
Heavenly Music
A Filipino Drunkard's Party
Living life »»†«« in solitude...
