Fading Embers

Long weekend. It's Undas after all.

A significant family tradition here in the country, where people go back to their home provinces to visit cemeteries (public or private), turning them into vibrant hubs filled with candlelight, flowers, food, prayers, and overnight family reunions. That also means traffic, even in a small town like ours, and supermarkets and grocery stores are packed with shoppers.

When I was young, Mom's big clan used to come together on the 1st or 2nd day of November for a reunion. Our kitchen was often filled with delicacies like glutinous rice cakes, Pancit, Lumpiang Shanghai, Pinikpikan, and such. The yard buzzed with children running around, adults chatting and laughing, while the BBQ grill filled the air with smoke and flavor.

As we grew up, the clan grew bigger too, but our Undas gatherings started to fall apart as many moved farther away. So only neighbors and a few relatives attended. Over the last five or so years, it became quieter as everyone had separate celebrations.

Since then, our family (my siblings, their kids and spouses, plus us) would meet at our parents' place for a more intimate get-together. We would spend the day with lots of chit-chat, food, and sometimes booze (rice wine, beer, among others).

This year, however, none of that is happening. It's one of those drastic changes we need to adapt to after Dad decided 2025's celebration would be the last and we would no longer carry on the tradition. It was a shock, especially since Mom had faithfully kept it alive, even when their church had a different stance.

The other day, my sister asked if there was a chance for Dad to have a change of heart. "We spoke a little while ago, and he didn't say anything about it, unfortunately. But we can still meet for a feast. He wouldn't be home 'coz November 1st is a Sunday," I teased. We laughed, but we were really saddened as we remembered how we used to enjoy the occasion.

But we would wait. Who knows, our father might suddenly summon us for a little celebration. Until then, we shall savor a slow time, resting, remembering, and enjoying the quiet moments in our own homes. The embers may be fading, but the warmth of love remains.

Happy Undas, Kabayans!