Chronicles Revealed

Chapter 5: A Doctor's Work

Our son stayed for about six hours in the funeral parlor where the police brought him. After paying for his six-hour stay, we withdrew our son from his temporary place and before eight 0'clock AM he was already in his more decent funeral home in Mandaue City where his mother had obtained memorial plans for all of us. I always felt it morbid to think of securing a pre-need plan premised on someone's death. It's disgusting to see these people making millions and billions of money on the fears, uncertainties and insecurities of other people. "Just being practical" philosophy but who becomes rich?

If only the government takes care of its citizens from cradle to grave, downright exploitative businesses will perish and will be buried in the filth of their greed. However, the wife knows better, down to earth that she is. But when she bought the plan for our boys, as we fondly call them, she did not have the slightest inkling that our eldest will be using his plan sooner rather than much later, long after my wife and I have both gone, at the earliest.

For me, the memorial plans were just long term investments, a cushion and preparation for the inevitable occurring in the distant future. There would be no need of these plans if the government only does its part, something beyond the mere provision of a public cemetery. Using any of these plans in my lifetime never came into my equation. Though I am not afraid to die, death was just a spectacle to watch, a drama that can only happen to other people.

It is delusional and stupid, of course. Now I know better. Death is as real as the clouds in the sky or the earth I am standing on. What is hard to face is the need to accept the eternal loss of someone you love. Like other parents, we believe our children should bury us and not the other way around. Death does not respect customs, traditions, sentiments and beliefs. He is an uncompromising, single-minded, intractable believer in being always on time. We all have a deadline we cannot alter. When it comes, he is right there at the exact time, not a second late nor a second earlier. He just picks you up and brings you to a place of no return.

Was it really my son's time?

He was not even in the prime of his life. He was just beginning to build a castle not of sand but of stone for his children and for himself. It was not meant to be. They came in the cover of the rain and the darkness to mercilessly put an end to his beautiful dream. How could they replace a dream with a nightmare? Why didn't they just leave him alone to fulfill a dream he nourished? How could they equate his young life with such a cold-blooded murder? There has to be retribution, an uncompromising resolution of a beastly crime, a punishment that will fully erase our pain.

It was not his time at all. From here on, it will be our time.

When we arrived at the new funeral home we were informed that they were fully booked and we had to wait for a chapel to be available. With some pleadings and arguing, we were able to reserve a chapel that would be vacated later in the day. It reminded me of the scene with the security guard the night before. History can repeat itself so quickly. In the meantime, we were made to stay in another chapel intended for those waiting with reservation. By noon time, the chapel reserved for us was vacated and we moved in and waited for our son to come in.

A funeral home supervisor led me and my grandson to a room adjoining their office. It was their display room for their available caskets. Mama stayed in the office with our granddaughter. It was up to me to decide which one to choose for our son. He turned on the lights and I saw an array of caskets to choose from. There was one made of steel, another one with a mahogany design, an ivory-colored casket and a pink casket I found grotesque. There wasn't a red casket but I could order if I wanted it. It was supposed to be a joke. They could even provide an air-conditioned casket with a sound system to go with it. No internet. It was all very surreal to me that I would be choosing a casket for my son who the day before was in my office and looking for a job. The caskets all looked the same to me but I had to choose and I picked the ivory-colored one simply because I thought it was the nicest one, good for the eyes.