HOTSPOT
The grief doesn’t really go away.
Sometimes I strongly feel it, often at a favorite store or restaurant we used to visit. Or when I see someone of the same height, built and haircut. There would be many of them in the malls which made me stay away for a long time, especially those which we used to visit.
One time, while riding a Sta. Mesa-bound jeep, I suddenly remembered her and I just teared up.
At other times, my sister and I would see an elderly woman wearing almost the exact same set of clothes she would usually wear: oversized dress shirts or any of the brightly-colored Africanesque ones that she was fond of.
How others cope with grief or loss, sometimes I would not want to know. The trouble now is that it is not exempt from today’s dystopian era, with some questioning the fond yet harmless remembrances of a young, dashing showbiz star who died in his sleep. I thought, why can’t we just let people freely remember and honor him? I tell you, it would be a lot worse and we would more loudly lament when people would forget.
This weekend, Mama would have turned 75. Masses would be offered in a number of churches in Manila, in what I wish would be like spiritual telegrams or emails going to whichever part of heaven she now enjoys her eternal rest, and thanking the Almighty’s for the gift of her motherhood.
My personal guess is that Mama would be with her own parents, tending to them and enjoying their company. She obviously missed both of them a lot, as she printed, put up and framed all the photos she could possibly find. Our grandfather died young, early in the late 1960s, and never saw any of us his future grandchildren, while our grandmother left for the U.S. in the mid-1980s.
Nowadays, whenever I visit my sister and my niece, there’s no instance when we fail to remember Mama and what she has missed seeing: the birth of her first great granddaughter. We’re happy to know she saw, blessed, cradled and coddled with Calix, her first great grandson. But we think a great granddaughter would have brought out her extra attention and love. We can only promise to introduce and tell the newest member of the family about her special great grandmother.
As a college instructor and professor, Mama had been able to teach perhaps several thousands of students. I’m no longer surprised when one or a couple of them would greet me and introduce themselves to me proudly as “estudyante ni Ma’am”. They would share similar stories about the classes they had with her and about life advice she gave.
I was killing time at a roofdeck garden somewhere in Quezon City a couple of months ago when someone randomly introduced himself to me. I thought he was selling insurance or something, but he quickly said he was a “estudyante ni Ma’am Cruz”. He said he regrets not approaching her when he last saw her at a mall, worried that she may not recognize him after all these years.
I thanked him and told him that Mama always remembers her students. She would see them everywhere, and instantly say their names and even their section in school. She does not forget. Teachers are proud of their students, of having played some role in their education.
My sister and I are thinking of gathering her papers and books for donation to schools she served the longest, and which could find good use for them. It would also be a way to perpetuate her memory in those places she loved.
This weekend, I’m expecting calls from Mama’s siblings who religiously check on us. Their own loss is also hard to describe. The last sibling to see Mama alive in person was her youngest, when he visited from the U.S. in July 2022, about two weeks shy of her birthday. Another sibling, the nurse of the family, spoke with Mama over Messenger days before she passed in October. They were not ready to see their “ate” go that soon. But while she's gone now, we're still here and we have to take care of one another.
Flowers have been ordered to be placed on Mama’s vault, in time for Sunday. The best remembrances would be prayers, the commitment not to forget, keeping her memory alive in the family and her many students and colleagues. There’s no goodbye, after all. Her spirit lives on.