I'm good. I've been in party mode. I know I'll crash and burn later, but mom would have wanted a party.
That exchange between my Tita Terry and me made me realize I'm not Filipino enough to bring myself to laugh at the overabundance of rosaries adorning my Lola.
She died a few weeks ago. My last living grandmother. I never thought I'd use the word "beautiful" to describe a funeral, but the events that occurred over the next few days surely changed my mind.
Tito Agape briskly walks into the viewing room and looks at Tita Josie with a look of terror, anxiety, and worry on his face. She stands up, walks over to him, and grasps his hand. It sounded like he said, "Alex is down!"
There are countless people with medical backgrounds here in the funeral home. But I'm not sure who else heard this dialogue, so I thought it my duty to investigate what could have possibly happened to my "uncle-in-law".
I walk out into the lobby and ask what the problem is, holding Tita Josie's hand and greeting her with a delayed hello.
"He's forgotten his camera."
Really, it was all too strange for words. I'm not sure what my siblings thought of the occasion. At times, I found it difficult to assign the typical sad and regretful feelings to this period. We celebrated, we socialized, we ate, we were reunited with relatives whom we hardly ever get the opportunity to see. We rekindled relationships. We smiled, laughed, and enjoyed each other's company. We told stories about Lola and Lolo's amazing life together.
And later, I smiled about every single piece of Lola's lavishly strewn jewelry.
I'll admit...I did have my camera with me. I embraced my background,
and have decided to include a photo, just for Filipino posterity.
