Francis and Ester (November 20,2007)

Francis and Ester
By: Maria Reylan M. Garcia

Francis was his name, and Ester was hers. They roamed the streets of the cemetery stopping at every grave where living relatives dwell. They handed out pieces of paper holding some words that brought a leap of horror. They muttered phrases of fear that aroused the goose bumps to every inch of the skin. Francis and Ester reminded the still breathing and alive that sooner and later they will be the ones to be visited in the cemetery. Although, Francis and Ester appear to be angels of death, they weren’t. Francis and Ester are just among the many, that flooded the cemeteries last All Souls Day, they were estate agents. Those pieces of paper they gave out weren’t promissory notes of one’s life expectancy, they were just simple brochures of the lots they sell and printed along are their contact numbers. Those phrases of fear weren’t revelations of the end; they were negotiating words gearing towards the selling out of their products.

Beside from the truth that we are all going to die, Francis and Ester were reminders that a lot has changed since the previous commemorations of All Souls Day. In the colonial times, the friars or the Spanish priests were the only ones who sold lots in the cemetery. There were still no sign of existence of any ancestral lineage that Francis and Ester might be having. The flower shops and boutiques weren’t flourishing as they do now. People settled for freshly picked flowers along the sides of the kalesa ridden streets. The day for the dead was even strictly observed as a commemoration rather than what we all see now as a celebration. There were no food stalls, concessionaire stands that made the memorial parks a carnival ground. There were no magic shows nor fireworks display during the day for the dead, those days were usually quiet and solemn. But, I believe the respect and worth of such day wasn’t subtracted even a single soul up to this day. The dead were still special from the time of Padre Damaso to the time of Francis and Ester. Though the tribute seem at different ends of the rope, the very thought of remembering the dead still remains as rock hard as the gravestones.

Each family had their own ways of paying tribute to their dead. Some thought they might as well have a family reunion along the way, and a food festival while they’re at it. Tons of plastic wares filled with Pinoy food favorites made the cemeteries similar to a food convention. Some planted their own tents and brought some folding beds, sleeping bags and native mats to transform the cemetery into a camping site. Some let free their little kids running through the large field of the memorial park, with some trinkets of light they wave along side, morphing the place alike to an amusement center. It was a feat for the eyes; it wasn’t a day for the dead after all. Everybody felt the day was a gathering of both our kind and those in the fourth dimension, our departed loved ones. There was a variation of party ideas for every visiting relative, each had their own gig, and each had their own way of letting their dead feel unforgotten. But, there will always be a time when every one kneels down in front of the gravestones and hush a simple prayer; this is in itself the very meaning of the day.

This is life. We were born, we live, and then we die. There will be only just one part of our existence where we get to change what was used to be, where we get to feel the pain necessary to feel the joy, where we get to realize the importance of life earlier than when it is gone. That part, is neither when we were born nor when we die, but when we are living. I am afraid of death, a lot of us are, even how much our faith would promise us a life after our own here on earth, and we still tremble to the very experience of dying. That is why everybody exercises, why everybody takes in medicine, why everybody does everything to slow the gaining of profit for Francis and Ester.

A lot has change in the world since the Adam ate that stupid apple, and it will continue to long after we die. We have to savor the moments; to live like no one has lived before. Because we will never know, the next year, the next All Souls Day, we will be the ones visited.

Continue to live.
Because soon we will be making use of the lots we bought from Francis and Ester.