Epilogue to Four Funerals and a Wedding
I originally planned "Four Funerals and a Wedding" to be a, quite obviously, a five-part series of blogs to celebrate my long and ardous journey towards "healing my family", as my friend put it. Life is not a movie though, and happy endings, or even just catharsis don't simply happen when people involved resist it.
When my father sent word inviting me to my half-brother's wedding, I couldn't hide I was pleased. I was never properly introduced to my half-siblings and we, on very few occasions we meet - yes, on funerals, we practically casually snub each other as if it is the most natural and socially acceptable thing to do. I found all these casual snubbing discomforting.
And so I was hopeful my invitation to the wedding was a sign of things to come, only that, I didn't anticipate my family - I mean, my mother's side of the family - to make a quiet resistance to the idea. More so, I didn't quite anticipate I was not brave enough to defy them and do what I think is right. And so I did not attend the wedding.
And neither did I spoke with my father since.
It was nothing like acrimonious silence - it was just getting back to comfortable normal for all of us. I still love my father and he, I know, has his own way of showing I matter to him. He still matters to my sister enough to hate him. He still matters to my mother enough to keep everyone from "rocking the boat".
Recently, another uncle, my father's last remaining full-blood sibling died downtrodden. There was no elaborate funeral as my angkong, ama, uncle and ate had. There was no lavish lauriat to feat on as my brother's wedding. He was cremated a full nine days before my mom and myself found out from other neighbors. None of them, and I mean my Tita Rosa, Kuya Henry or even my Papa bothered to let us know. I realized how different I was from them. Uncle Te-ah, while always unkempt and ungroomes received the respect he never got and never even bothered to demand from any of them. By simply acknowledging him as my uncle, by kissing his hand whenever I see him (pagmamano), I have given him much more than the healing that I have ever planned for and sought. Showing love and respect is so simple and just happens. Maybe the healing I've been wishing for will never come, maybe it will. All I know is keeping my heart devoid of hate is the only way.
When my father sent word inviting me to my half-brother's wedding, I couldn't hide I was pleased. I was never properly introduced to my half-siblings and we, on very few occasions we meet - yes, on funerals, we practically casually snub each other as if it is the most natural and socially acceptable thing to do. I found all these casual snubbing discomforting.
And so I was hopeful my invitation to the wedding was a sign of things to come, only that, I didn't anticipate my family - I mean, my mother's side of the family - to make a quiet resistance to the idea. More so, I didn't quite anticipate I was not brave enough to defy them and do what I think is right. And so I did not attend the wedding.
And neither did I spoke with my father since.
It was nothing like acrimonious silence - it was just getting back to comfortable normal for all of us. I still love my father and he, I know, has his own way of showing I matter to him. He still matters to my sister enough to hate him. He still matters to my mother enough to keep everyone from "rocking the boat".
Recently, another uncle, my father's last remaining full-blood sibling died downtrodden. There was no elaborate funeral as my angkong, ama, uncle and ate had. There was no lavish lauriat to feat on as my brother's wedding. He was cremated a full nine days before my mom and myself found out from other neighbors. None of them, and I mean my Tita Rosa, Kuya Henry or even my Papa bothered to let us know. I realized how different I was from them. Uncle Te-ah, while always unkempt and ungroomes received the respect he never got and never even bothered to demand from any of them. By simply acknowledging him as my uncle, by kissing his hand whenever I see him (pagmamano), I have given him much more than the healing that I have ever planned for and sought. Showing love and respect is so simple and just happens. Maybe the healing I've been wishing for will never come, maybe it will. All I know is keeping my heart devoid of hate is the only way.
posted by wernicke @ 5:07:00 AM
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