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Raised as a Roman Catholic, with a father who
spoke to "Dwendes" and told stories of a young man's journeys in search for his
lady with a star in her heart and a moon on her forehead, does seem to be a bit strange
upbringing to most people, but is there any better way to live than by being a part of all
living things? I thought it was normal for my brother to talk to birds and animals,
which always caused him trouble with my father for being late on his errands. And
what about my Godfather Ulpiano, a "Tambalan" who had to do Fire Dance Rituals
to save Cousin Enza, betrothed to an "Encanto", from going back to the world of
the Unseen. These were not childhood fantasies, they were all real experiences, they
were my real family and this is the real me, Marcelina."
The preceding is only the beginning of "The World of
Iday". After all these years of trying to fit into the world of Rock & Roll
and Burger Kings, I have decided to begin to tell the stories of my childhood.
Thanks to a my dear friends for encouraging me to start
writing, and most especially, to my husband John, who believes in me and tells me that
there's no reason to disappoint those who have always thought of me as strange anyway.
Marcelina
February, 1992
        
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Going Home
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Posted December 26, 2009
Two years ago I posted an article, “Final
Goodbye,”
about the passing of my sister, Ate Aying. She made her
final goodbye on another sister’s birthday on November
8, 2007. This year’s Christmas merriment was diminished
by another final departure, two days before winter
solstice, of a beloved sister, Ate Fely, the same sister
whose birthday I just mentioned. Life goes on… I
understand it. But can I stop my heart from longing to
have been there at her side in her last breath? To tell
her how much I missed her, to hug her and tell her how
much I appreciated her?
I was only sixteen years old when another sister died of
pneumonia - in my lap. I did not understand why the
attending doctor picked me to hold my sister when she
was in the process of leaving. Other family members were
present at her bedside but they were instructed to leave
the room. Was it just a coincidence? Why me? I was the
youngest one. The experience of watching her eyes fading
until she finally drew her last breath was something
peaceful, I will never forget. How could it be? Am I not
supposed to have been crying over this incident? As she
laid in the casket for a few days for viewing, I could
not find myself to drop a tear. Instead, I have
continually remembered the strength of her last grip on
my hand, a feeling of reassurance. And, when I heard
that final “click,” the sound of the seemingly breaking
bone in the spine, somehow I knew … the leaving of the
soul, restricted inside a physical form had been freed.
I uttered a short prayer, unlike the prayers I normally
heard in the church.
Today, December 26, 2009 (December 27 in the
Philippines) is the burial of my sister, Ate Fely. My
heart aches, teardrops are forming in my eyes, my
breathing is heavy. Why?? Am I feeling my own
vulnerability?
Farewell my Beloved sister/protector. Rest in Love and
in Peace!
Felicitas Aculbe Agudo , November 8, 1944 – December 18,
2009
“May your experience on Earth have been a great one, and
may the Light shine brightly as you journey back “Home”
to claim a seat next to Mother/Father God. Amen”.
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