death

Revision of Past

            Overwhelmed by the scent of fresh flowers, seeing the gloomy eyes of men. Why couldn’t I comprehend of why their eyes started to shed water? All I could see was the crowding of an all-black society, with the faces which all looked of sorrow. I was only 3 when the “sad day came,”  but I did not understand of what the reason was there behind the flowered filled grey park. Just like any other child who could not seem to perceive the contexts clues of low spirits within the people. I as a child would always like to do the complete opposite of what you are supposed  to do within a sorrowful day,even though I could feel the intense pressure of depression.

            As I learned in present time it was in Davao memorial, Davao city where the activity was held in the past. At that time I as a small child was innocent and ignorant of why I had to go to a place where there was such a grand portrait of an old man decorated with layers of flowers, candles, and traditional artifacts (traditional giving’s).  All I could hear was the endless weeping and moaning of the people. I could not follow where the emotions pouring out from each individual were going towards for.  I was different I did not shed one tear or felt any sign of sadness; I believed that this moment was not of despair but any ordinary over crowded gathering for fun. Through seeing all the Titas (aunts) and Titos (uncles) screeching to their lungs begging God if his decision was faulty, since they did see their loved one’s death bed. Even when my mother walked towards the grand photo, I could see how she forgot the despair he gave upon her future path.  Now her deep feelings that she had tried to keep dormant, brought her to her knees upon the stiff cold grass. Years later my mother told me it was her father’s death anniversary we went to when I was 3 years old. We held a prayer and celebration of his coming to age of heaven.

            Recalling the specific details of the memorable experience I had I can see now of how I developed from not knowing deaths impact to being able to feel the intense feeling of someone passing away. Growing up I am more understanding with the concept of death. I would form water out of emotion; those emotional droplets would rundown cheeks. Overflow of bundles and bundles of tears I will become like others who cannot speak as the tears of sorrow shed from their eyes to the cold ground.

Flowers While They Are Living

They don’t need flowers on their tombstone

They don’t need to hear “I love you”  at their funeral

They needed those flowers while they were crying

They needed those flowers when they felt alone

They needed those flowers when they felt there was no where to turn

They needed to hear “I love you” when they were tying the rope

They needed to hear “I love you”  when they picked up the blade

They needed to hear “I love you”  when they were down to their last few breaths

They needed their flowers

Their “I love you’s” before it was too late

They can no longer hear you

They don’t need flowers on their tombstone

They don’t need you to say “I love you” at their funeral

You should’ve given them their flowers while they were living.