On remembering

After my father passed away last year, I’ve been consumed by the question, “do we survive death”?

Growing up Catholic, I understand my religion’s conception of the afterlife. But there’s something about losing a person close to you that triggers questions about what you previously thought you comprehend.

Maybe it’s human nature to not want death to be the end. That they go on existing in a plane our limited earthbound mind would never even come close to understanding.

I wasn’t looking for advise on the matter but as Carl Jung once said, “synchronicity is an ever present reality for those who have eyes to see”.
The Chile-based writer, Elizabeth Medina, author of “Rizal According to Retana,” (http://tinyw.in/524l) wrote me an email last week (responding to the topic of her Lolo’s grave in Ilocos):

In the end, our physical bodies die, and we continue on. Where we have lived and acted consciously to express our being, in a way that impacts positively on others (with the conscious intention of helping, defending, protecting, educating, supporting), is the best way to leave a mark. It doesn’t even matter whether you leave a mark, or you don’t, but the mere fact of living a conscious life and expressing your humanizing intent means that you will link your existence to others’ futures.

Yes, my lolo’s grave will probably disappear but I found his memory and I wrote a book to rescue it. The book has reached some people’s consciousnesses (thank you for reading it), and it isn’t the fact that I’ve written it that has protected my lolo’s life from being erased. It’s the fact that he lived as he did that made it inevitable for a descendant of his to write a book about him. Energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Each of us changes the world, but especially if we become awakened to the meaning that we can give to our lives, consciously (yes, with love, with devotion).

Rizal’s bones were exhumed and those that had not returned to the earth are in that monument in Rizal Park. The remains of GomBurZa returned to the earth in Paco Cemetery. But those lives and deaths sacralized our land, for anyone who wants to feel it.

I believe finally in a greater Plan (Cosmic Intelligence) that doesn’t change even if individuals disappear from this material world. The Plan is beyond our capacity to grasp in its mechanisms, which are divine. Which are the laws of “life, energy and evolution”. And each of us is valuable for it, we come from it and we return to it.

But unless we start from the basic (honoring our ancestors/forebears, expressing it in actions, experiencing a change in our awareness, a deepening, an appreciation that was not there before), the questioning life about the deeper themes, the things not said, we can’t advance to the subtle. We can’t redeem ourselves, so to speak. They don’t tell you anything about this in school, or even at home. Life seems to be nothing but a survival machine and it’s a bit depressing and meaningless, mechanical, with some highs interspersed, some magical moments, and then back to the doldrums. When everything is meaningful and magical and new and talking to us all the time, but we are deaf blind and dumb. So my lolo Emilio as who he was, your father as who he was, when we internalize them, they can no longer be “lost”, nor can we. Then we can relax and let go of them. They are in us. I don’t miss Filipinas, she is in me. She always was. It’s wonderful to go home and eat lumpia Shanghai, discover Mount Banahaw. But if I can be there in the body, it is in me, in my spirit.

We do what we can in the material realm, and within our poor limitations, but the important thing is what happens in our mind, in our awareness, in our emotion joined to our intellection, and to the body. This is about us. It isn’t about them. It’s about the communion between them and us, that goes beyond dying or dates. Or if the bad people won and the good people lost. We are the continuing story, What we are doing, feeling, thinking today and how we work with the past, present and future, in the direction we choose.

So really, I am in peace. I am glad I wrote and published Sampaguitas and made it available in English as well. I have no idea if it has reached a lot of people or not. I did it for me, for lolo Emilio, my father, my kids. You know, around 5 years ago a young woman contacted me here in Chile. She was really emotional about having read Sampaguitas, because her mother (Chilean) had her with a Filipino who was in the merchant marine and he abandoned them, typically, and she had never known anything about him or the Philippines, and when she came across the book, she felt she had connected with her father. I lost contact with her almost immediately, but I could feel how moved she was.

The ”Sampaguitas” mentioned here is her book, “Sampaguitas en la cordillera” (2006). Its English version, “Sampaguitas in the Andes” she made available for gratis in her website (http://www.elizabethmedina.cl).

Now, do I believe all that?

Yes, I do.

I remember this one moment, standing in front of my father’s remains, feeling that he’s not there. I was looking at him but I was looking for him. Then it hits me. Before me was merely the vessel that carried his spirit. I was comforted by this thought.

“When we internalize them, they can no longer be “lost”, nor can we. Then we can relax and let go of them. They are in us.”

Amen.

Love you Pa.

 

 


2 responses to “On remembering

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