Personally, I really hate having to update the "Not So Happy Gatherings" gallery of our smugmug account.
And something has to be said about the multitude of people who attended the internment, and who lined up to offer flowers to the coffin, and shake the hands or hug the grieving family. A lot of them were even crying. So imagine being an outsider of sorts, rubbing the backs of crying in-laws, while also shaking hands or offering tissue to crying teenagers.
Makes you wonder how your own interment will go... how many lives you'll be able to touch... how many will come to comfort the family you leave behind... how many will seek consolation from your family, simply because you at least were related to that someone who impacted their lives so much.
Talk about humbling.
I couldn't help but shed tears of my own when I saw the grandchildren huddled together, all sobbing, their parents unable to come to them because they were saying their goodbyes. What a privilege to be so loved in life that you are mourned in death.
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Us being Pinoys though, we couldn't help but joke around and have all these morbid conversations. I reminded my husband again that I wanted to be cremated. He reminded me again that he wants a musiko to play a certain fast song and that I had to dance during the procession.
Hubs also kidded his siblings... that his brother was crying because he knew he'd be asked to say the eulogy when it's time for their father to go... and that he (hubs) was crying because he knew he'd really be the one to end up saying the eulogy because people wouldn't be able to understand his brother talk.
And much to my dismay, my son couldn't help but turn the organ off during the wake while the musicians that came with the funeral services were playing music. And he couldn't stop dancing to the funeral music. Sigh.
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And as in all deaths, there is always a celebration of life. Cousins bonded and reminisced. And took pictures.
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