Cradle

March 1, 2020

"Kinsa imong gibisita Mam?" the Grab driver asks. Whose grave did you visit? "Akong Papa." "Unsa na ka dugay?" "20 years." "Aw dugay naman diay." So it has been quite a while. He said it in a manner that somehow tells me it is no longer as painful as it must have been before.  

The driver’s words stung. I wanted to him to take back his comment but remained silent as he proceeded to tell a story of how his own father had died many years ago as well. I responded politely and listened to him but my mind drifted elsewhere.  

I wept at my father's grave. "I forgive you. I miss you.  I still see your face, still hear your voice." One continuous stream of thought flowed from the core of my being spilling out of my eyes. 

I hear the Grab driver’s own storytelling as if from a distance. Meanwhile I am unhinged by the barrage of emotions. A song plays from the car’s radio," Mutya ka Baleleng, sa baybayon... " I remember my aunts sang it constantly during my childhood.  It is a song about a young man going off to war expressing his longing for the woman he is leaving behind. Though the lyrics are somber, I am gently comforted by its melody, soothing the sadness and hurt that have come over me.

Grief obviously happens for every transition in a life.  Life is a series of transitions, each stage bidding goodbye to the previous one, a finality in itself-- childhood to adolescence to adulthood to old age. Passing away is just one of the many transitions. And what of role reversals? A finality which unearths a vulnerability giving way to inevitable pain.  I helped my Aunt bathe my mother today. She suffered a stroke 5 years ago. As I helped my mother get dressed, I felt my heart break into a million pieces. Grieving.  I am grieving the passage of the years for my mother and the passing away of my father even 20 years to the day.

The driver slows down to pull over at the curb as I neared my destination. The song is ending too,  

  "Kon ikaw Baleleng ay mawala
              Kon ikaw Baleleng di ko makita
              Gugma ko Baleleng magahulat
              Taliwala 'ning lawod sa mga luha..."

              “Aw dugay naman diay, “the driver said as he picked me up from the cemetery. His words stung. Grieving does not depend on the length of years, I wanted to tell him just like the soldier’s last vows to Baleleng. But of course, I stayed silent, paid him the fare, thanked him for the ride and stepped out of the car with Baleleng’s melody cradling my heart.  

“If you my dear is gone
              If  you my dear I cannot find 
              My love my dear will be waiting
              In the middle of these ocean of tears...”