BANANACUE
REPUBLIC
Vol I, No. 2
Sept 15, 2004

 
 
 by Daphne Cardillo

ARCHIVE #008

Table of Contents 

Archive:
September
October
 

Remembering the Dead

A few friends observed that I talk of the dead as if they were alive.  Admittedly, I talk of the dead in the same manner as I talk of the living.  Only, this time, they're absent.

I really don't know how to do otherwise.  I always refer to the departed ones in the present tense, like they are just in another place.  No pretensions of being kind in words, yet not disrespectful in any manner.  One doesn't have to die first, in order for another to pay respect.

This lack of sense of the past often eludes me.  The present still appears to be a continuing past.

Maybe it's a result of passing information from one generation to another.  My mother used to talk of her dead ones--her parents, siblings, and personages in our community as a daily chore.  She would relive small incidents, little surprises, and moments of distress in narrative details of those who lived in her time and way before her.  Her story-telling would go on at the dining table, in the bedroom, in the yard and in the kitchen while doing the usual chores at home.

So as I spend time with her each passing day, these people whom I have never seen, continue to live on with us in her tales.  They stay long enough in our consciousness to be considered dead.  All of them are physically absent, but their personalities live.

These past few years, I've witnessed the passing of members of my clan, friends, and loved ones.  To a few, I bring some notes in time:

For Mano Dani: "To the end, you continue to puzzle us, leaving behind riddles and paradoxes.  As you are used to tinkering and problem solving, you unknowingly intended that we do the same.

After you left, most of your things went away too.  Some are left in the hands of people only known to you, unclaimed.  Others simply cease to function, like your stapler, so I threw them away.  But I kept your notes from Seneca College, especially that one on reliability."

For Nanay: "Hazel gave birth to a baby boy last October 20.  That would make me a certified lola in my thirties.  Had you waited a little longer, you would have seen your first great grandson suck from her mother's breast.  I gave some of your blouses that had openings on the front for her to use while nursing her child.  She's the one who followed you, having married a church worker.  Apparently, she's the one chosen by God to continue in his service."

And for Rey: "I can be alone now.  You were patient enough to wait.  It was a happy meeting and a happy parting along with all the interruptions in between.  Still, your heart ruled your mind and I appreciate that.  I know you took a hard path and fought a good fight.  But it's time to let down your guard, you're now in safe hands.  Take time to rest, my dearest, take time to rest.  Love prevails."

"They stay long enough in our consciousness to be considered dead.  All of them are physically absent, but their personalities live."