You need to mourn

My father, Atty. Calixto Silverio, was bayoneted to death by Japanese soldiers near the railway tracks of San Marcelino, together with my Kuya Modesto, a 17-year old high school student from Ateneo. They were captured as they tried to flee from our burning house on Ayala Boulevard where my father was trying to retrieve some valuables. (Ayala Bridge leads to this boulevard which connects the Malacañang area to the Philippine Trade School and Philippine Normal College along Taft Avenue.) Our neighbors saw their bodies tied together, Papa’s calling cards strewn about.

This was in 1945 when they were arresting all male residents of Manila who were either killed on the spot or massacred in groups of 20 to 30. The Japanese knew ahead of the Filipinos that the end was near. Thus, they resorted to the bloody rampage and burning of the city while American planes bombed strategic Japanese camps and headquarters to liberate Manila.

Mama shed quiet tears in mourning

Except for shedding quiet tears for several days, my mother Meding did not reveal to my sister, brother and me that Papa died. I guess in her deep grief she believed that the news may prove traumatic for very young children. Months earlier, my father had evacuated us to my grandfather’s big house in Singalong. Six families from our Ayala neighborhood joined us.

This week, especially on November 1, Filipinos all over the country recalled once more the Japanese massacres in the Philippines — a time when death came suddenly to many heads of families. More so these past years, crimes have become almost a daily occurrence with more drugs and AIDS destroying the youth, as well as frequent kidnappings. To top it all, the World Trade Center tragedy has traumatized the world.

Our elders tend to hide the news of death in the family. Orientals see tears as a sign of weakness. Wearing mourning clothes is expected. In some Asian culture hiring of weeping "mourners" to accompany the funeral procession is accepted.

We need to mourn

If my mother revealed to us about my father’s passing away, since I was just starting in kindergarten then, I would have probably missed him much and even looked for him during meal times and bed times when he would read nursery tales to all three of us.

It was different when Mama passed away. I gave way to tears and sighed with relief that after four days of comatose, her spirit was relieved of her very damaged body — to rest in eternal peace with our Lord. At that time, I was already married with teenage daughters who were very close to her because she lived with us.

My youngest daughter Sara, then in her early adolescence, cried profusely. My two older daughters, who were abroad on international student exchange scholarships in America, were also very much affected and would often dream about their lola (grandmother).

Eda La Shan, a family counselor for more than 40 years says, "If a loved one’s death is not dealt with when it occurs, there cannot be a time of recovery and closure. You must allow yourself what you desperately need — time to weep and to rage against the fates that orphaned you in these tragic ways." It might be a good idea to see a counselor who specializes in grief or to join a support group with others who have suffered similar losses.

It does not hurt to cry

The sudden passing away of Mama brought back a flood of memories of how I related to her as a married woman. As the eldest of her children, I took her to live with us when our own house was built. She indulgently looked after my daughters as though they were her own. This was where we clashed — deciding whether to let the children have their own way or restrict them to assume more and more responsibilities as they grew older. This hurt her, but she bore it calmly and patiently. I remember that she would even have allergic reactions as I tend to snap back at her.

Every time I would recall those bad moments, I would be moved to tears. One cries easily for the departed, usually due to some offense against the loved one. The tears are like an expression of atonement for having rashly offended them.

It will not really hurt the children to see you cry. The tension in your body language, though you ignore your deep sadness will be felt no matter how much you try to cover it up. By holding and loving them, you gain strength to talk about your departed loved one.

Go on a ‘treasure hunt’ to create the family history

Beyond the age of four, children will be old enough to ask questions and receive honest answers. In the meantime, go on a treasure hunt to fill in lost memories and create a family history; interview other relatives; look through photo albums, diaries, letters, report cards and birthday cards. The search may well bring back memories of your departed one that you can share with the large extended families common in the Philippines.

During the nine-day novena prayers after Mama’s burial, the relatives closest to her gathered together for daily Mass. Each one had a special encounter of love with Ate Meding. All the eight children of Don Manuel Quiogue and Felisa Cabrera of Singalong, Manila are all gone now. Uncle Gonzalo was a medical representative of Boie and would contribute articles to Free Press magazine. Uncle Andy was a businessman while Uncle Manoling was a Philippine Navy officer and Uncle Pepe, an engineer who migrated to Guam. Auntie Dely was the glamour girl who married thrice and Auntie Louise died after childbirth. Lolo Manuel named all the streets of his property along San Andres after him. Auntie Elis, the youngest among Mama’s seven brothers and sisters, recalled how Ate became mama to her since their mother died after giving birth to her. Ate would always help her out as she matured and later had her own family.

My cousin Lito, whom we adopted when he lost his young parents — Uncle Manoling and Auntie Sophia — during the bombing of Manila, recalled how Auntie Meding persisted until he went through three major orthopedic surgeries to straighten his crooked legs which resulted from contracting polio during "Liberation".

Nonoy or Brother Tito to the Jesuits, my only brother, recalled how although Mama wished he would not enter the seminary, she calmly resigned herself to his vocation and looked forward to weekends when he would visit.

Recapturing the past is more joyous than painful

As the hidden gems of Mama’s generosity and thoughtfulness were revealed by relatives, we were able to put together two beautiful large albums of her childhood, her high school days, the courtship years, her wedding, her motherhood and her becoming a grandmother.

When you have mourned and recaptured your past, it will be joyous rather than painful for you to fill in the missing pieces of your children’s heritage.

Do not postpone saying ‘I love you’ and ‘I am sorry’

All over the world, natural calamities have struck — hurricanes in Louisiana and Florida in America, and earthquakes in India and Pakistan. The world will take long to recover from these, especially from the man-made act of terrorism of September 11, 2001 that destroyed the New York twin towers. In one instant, thousands of people perished.

Thus in America, they probably woke up, not knowing it would be their last. Probably, they were looking forward to celebrating Thanksgiving, Halloween and Christmas. Maybe, they had a fight with their loved ones and were hoping to make up for it over a candlelit dinner that same evening. But in a second, their lives were no more. It was their time.

That is why we shouldn’t postpone saying "I love you" and "I am sorry" even when we are in the pink of health.

(This is a re-print of an article I wrote in November 1, 2001.)

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