Cessna In Flight

My mother-in-law passed away in her sleep last week. In the middle of the arrangements for the wake and  interment, one of the relatives mentioned a eulogy. My husband wanted to, asked me to write it for him. Minutes before the mass, I made an outline. My husband saw me writing furiously and thought I should speak. I was afraid at first, but I just felt I had to. There was a compelling urge in my heart. I MUST deliver a eulogy.

Unfortunately, I was overwhelmed with grief. I think I spent quite a long time in front of family and friends blurting out a hodgepodge of words with no meaning. I wasn’t able to say many more things in my head. Which I must share. Now that I’m seated comfortably in front of my ol’ friend, the computer, allow me to take this chance to post this edited eulogy.

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When my youngest son got sick, Mama gave me a photocopied picture of Jesus the Healer. She instructed me to put it on his chest daily. I could not understand how could a photo, and a photocopied one at that, could cure my sick son, but I did it. Soon, he was in the pink of health. Maybe it was the photo. Credit should, of course, be given to science. But I also knew he got well because that photo wasn’t just a photo. It represented Mama in her room, praying the novena every day and every night for my son.

My daughter loves Pochi, a strawberry-flavored soft candy. It was Mama who gave her her first Pochi, and Ate fell in love at first bite. The problem was Mama gave her not one or two or ten pieces, but one or two or ten packs. Ang dami talaga, that my daughter soon fell ill. My husband told her, tama na, bawal na ang Pochi. But that didn’t stop her. She would unwrap each candy, put them in a metal food container, give it to my daughter. Secret nila yun.

My eldest, the apple of her eye. He was with them twice a week in his first year because I was a working mom back then. Siya ang may pinakamaraming regalo. Baby clothes, toiletries, toys, bari-bari – money tucked in his pocket.

I, too, got plenty of gifts from Mama. Nice pieces of her jewelry, rosaries, prayer books, magazines, bags, personalized towels, lots of food, lots and lots of candies and chocolates (now you know where Ate got her sweet tooth from). Chocolates that were really meant for her, she would save for me. I’ve told her countless times, “Mama, paano po kayo?” and she would come up with so many excuses why she couldn’t have this and that. I always accepted, because I knew she felt joy in giving to us.

Some gifts though were really weird. One time, I weighed less than a hundred pounds that my father-in-law called me “model ng Caritas Manila.” Then she gave me a dress. A really huge dress. To this day, I have never seen a dress so huge even in plus-size boutiques. I would often tell my husband, pwede na itong bedsheet! Nagtampo siya sa akin, bakit di ko raw sinusuot. How??

She also gave me a potholder. I had a laugh when I first saw that. Si Mama talaga. San ka nakakita ng nagreregalo ng potholder?

Last November 1, she gave me a huge bar of Toblerone. Must be from her sister who just arrived from the US. I couldn’t accept, but she was insistent. “Ipasok na sa kotse,” she said about three times. As soon as I got home, I looked for Toblerone cheesecake recipes. This would be enough for two, one for each of my mothers.

That was the last time we saw my mother-in-law. That is my last gift from her. She passed away in her sleep two days later. And she must have been so insistent, because she must have known she wouldn’t be able to greet me on my birthday which was just a few more days after her passing. Without a doubt, the saddest, most painful birthday of my life.

We will miss all these gifts. Funny, weird, beautiful, useful, big and small, but all very, very precious. All symbols of her love and devotion. All showing that we occupy her heart and mind.

But the one gift that we will miss so much is the gift of You, Mama. We will miss you. We are missing you.

We will miss your telling Kuya, “Eat. Eat plenty. I will give you Coke.” The pink place mat and Sanrio cup you reserve for Ate. The way you call my youngest, Tan-Tan. The many times you would regale us with Jena’s latest antics. The times we would come in your room, pay our respects, tell the latest stories, then wait for Papa, my husband and the kids to be out of hearing distance so you can do what Papa would call your “siete.” Wala na akong ka-siete Mama.

Had we known that November 1 would be the last time we would see you, we would have been there madaling-araw pa lang. Kung maibabalik ko lang, we would have let you be surrounded by your grandchildren. We would let them drown you in their loud voices until your ears bleed. I would have immediately made that Toblerone into a cheesecake. We would not have waited for November 13, the date of your family reunion in Laguna; we would have immediately brought you there. Lahat ng kwento nyo na kung tutuusin ilang libong beses ko nang narinig, pakikinggan ko uli lahat. Pati yung damit na parang bedsheet, susuotin ko na.

But then, you never showed any signs you were leaving. You were happily making plans for your trip to Laguna. You were excited about December, when all your kids who work abroad will be here for the holidays. You were looking forward to so many happy things. Then you left. Wala kayong sinabi. Wala kayong pinaramdam.

But I do remember my last words to you. I said, “Thank you po.” But then I always say that before we leave. And I remember your last words to me. “Thank you.” I thought you were just thanking me for the visit. I never thought it would later come to mean something else.

I dreamt of you recently. You were very beautiful in that dream. Dancing. Happy.  At peace. Very, very content.

I would like that dream to mean that wherever you are now, you are happy.  I would like to believe God visited you that fateful morning and gave you a once-in-your-lifetime chance to join Him with no pain, no suffering. And you grabbed that chance. You made that choice. You were excited even, to leave this world and be reunited with Grandma and Angela and John Paul in that very happy place called heaven. We will all take comfort in that thought. Unfortunately, it won’t mean the pain will go away. It doesn’t mean we will miss you less. We miss you so much Mama. We love you.

We found this beautiful yellow butterfly resting at the back of my brother-in-law when he was crying in the chapel where we held the wake. That butterfly stayed in the chapel till the end.