Growing up in the 1980s, the annual event “Todos los Santos” meant going to the cemetery early. The elders would place flowers and light huge candles at the tombs, and bring out the food and drinks for hours of family time.

As far as I remember, it would only be in the late 1990s and the new millennium when we would see big business capitalism enter memorial parks, as if they were always meant to be there. Pop-up stores of big brands would be a mainstay. Softdrinks, mineral water, pizza, burger, and entire meals, would become available.

I actually no longer remember going to the North Cemetery to visit our grandfather who we never knew. What I still remember was when our great grandmother died and was about to be interred at Manila Memorial Park in Paranaque, our uncles placed a white rectangular box in the same tomb. It would take several years before we finally understood what they meant when they said it contained lolo’s bones.

It wasn’t an easy commute to Paranaque, so it was rare for us to go there every Nov. 1. We went there only a couple of times.

Like others, we would go to church, attend mass, and light candles there. The church color was never black -- always purple. I always wondered why we celebrated the dead on Nov. 1 which is All Saints’ Day, and not on Nov. 2, which is All Souls’ Day.

I remember churches placing big green boxes full of envelopes at church entrances. People would get several, write names of their departed, and put a donation. There were special boxes for this.

Kids were, of course, not allowed to play with the candles. The most that the adults would tolerate was for kids to get the excess candlewax from the candles. We would make multicolor balls of candlewax, and compete who would get to create the biggest.

As we lived in the part of Sampaloc that’s near North Cemetery, we kids could easily get there to look at the different tombs and to collect candlewax.

By sundown of Nov. 1, everyone’s attention would be in our own streets. Just before the sky gets dark, adults would begin lighting candles in front of houses. For kids like us, it was always a fantastic sight. Also, more candlewax for our project balls.

We would also make lanterns out of medium-sized or big empty cans of milk. We would remove the cover, and punch lots of holes at the bottom and at the sides using nails and a hammer. We would attach a makeshift handle made of metal wire. We would grab small, nearly worn out candles and place them inside our lantern and go through the streets getting candlewax or scaring people.

The candlewax balls and the lanterns, or the picnics at the cemetery may not be part of your experience if your family owns a mausoleum, complete with buffet and waiting staff.

As we grew older, we forgot about the candlewax balls. There would be more departed relatives and friends to visit and to remember. The kids who once roamed the cemeteries and the streets rather quickly became adults, and find themselves doing what we saw our elders did as we prepared for what we is now called “Undas”: organizing the visit to the tombs, preparing the food, ordering flowers, getting the candles.

The term Undas is said to come from the Spanish word “honras” which means “honors” and “to honor”. An old Spanish-era missal for the dead was found, and it was titled “Honras Funerales” (funeral honors).

Fast forward to now, our family’s dear departed are spread out in several places: Mama and lola Mama Des at St. Therese in Pasay; lolo Domeng and superlola Ada, as well as cousin KC at Manila Memorial; and paternal relatives at the San Rafael municipal cemetery. Many dear departed friends are interred in various cemeteries.

I plan to visit St. Therese, but there won’t be attempts to make candlewax balls there. No candles allowed at the columbarium. Only flowers.

The most important things are to pause and to remember, to pray that our dear departed are resting peacefully in the Great Beyond, and to tell their stories to the young ones so they won’t forget. Together, let’s honor our dead.