Thoughts on the day of souls

Two days after today is All Soul’s Day. On that day our family takes the road to Malabuyoc which is 125 km. down south to visit the grave of our mother. My wife and children plus some close kins have been doing this every year since 1975. But even as early as 1950 when I was still in my adolescent years, visiting mother’s resting place on the day of saints or of souls has been a regular obligation.

Why visit the dead when they are no longer there? I remember one writer asking this question. Yes, why go to burial grounds on those days when those whom we want to remember are not there? Has not our childhood faith taught us that the souls of the dead go to heaven or purgatory, or worse, are junked in hell?

Alas, tradition does not give in to rationalization. And so even if we know that our loved ones don’t lie beneath or behind those marble slabs, we insist on being there, for where else shall we burn our candles? Where else shall we set up those flower-offerings?

“When I am dead, my dearest!/ Sing no sad song for me!/ Plant then no roses at my feet/ Her shady cypress trees…” Thus go Rosetti’s melancholic refrain. Why sing indeed for someone who is not around? Why roses and trees for loved ones who can no longer smell the flowers or savor the shade of a tree?

But the heart has its reasons, and on the day of the dead we are all hearts. We forget the whys and wherefores and follow where feelings lead us. For where our dear ones lie there lie too the ghosts of our tender moments, those long lost memories of green grass and glorious sunshine and the sweet caresses of someone we so keenly miss.

Visiting where our dear ones lie is therefore like visiting the past. For a brief interlude we cast aside our day-to-day cares and try to recall a word, a song, or a presence allowing ourselves to get transported to the long lost years and relive all that was beautiful and good, shoving aside the sad and regrettable because those who are no longer with us deserve nothing but beautiful remembrances.

Beautiful thoughts, especially when thinking of our mother who was a disciplinarian. When she was with us six o’clock in the evening was “oracion” time and woe to us kids if we failed to make it home and join the prayer. Hearing the dawn mass on Sundays was a commitment never to be taken lightly. Why did mother choose the dawn to dialogue with God? In my tender years I could not understand it. But years later I realized that if prayers are spiced with a sacrifice it is more pleasing to God.

 Memories like these remind us the heroic efforts of mothers to teach their children courage in the face of life’s harsh realities and to inspire them to take the righteous path no matter what happens. Similar memories explain why the first two days of November draw us to memorial places. We go there because we want to remember, and remembering we want to rediscover ourselves. For it is not completely true that they are not there. They are there because we are there as they have been very much in us and as we are, hopefully, in them.

To bridge the gap between being and nothingness is a longing that lies in the deepest recesses of our consciousness. But we refuse to acknowledge this because the world is too much with us. Besides who want to trade the thrill of living with the uncertainties beyond the grave? Life may be harsh but the sun feels good and the rain too; there is nothing like being alive.

Our self-discovery is therefore an epiphany of who we are. As we stand before those who are no longer with us, we are reminded that our true selves are more than what we are, more than flesh and bones, more than what the senses define. Although we desire to endure from year to countless years, our desire falters before our inevitable destiny. So soon, so late we will cross the bar and before we know it, somebody else will be standing above our mound saying, hopefully, the prayers we are now saying.

What lies in the Great Beyond? We don’t know. But while we live let our departed loved ones remember we have not forgotten them on the day of souls.

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