throwback 2014: eurosa's flashback

The smell of Formalin still reminds me of something. I was at ‘that’ place. I have seen ‘the man’ for the last time on that dreaded 24th of March year 2009. On that afternoon, torrents of rain were pouring dreadfully in my black umbrella as I was about to go inside. It was an unexpected rain since it was almost summer time of the year. I felt the heavens must have been feeling what I am feeling. It was my only solace; it wept with me.


As I walked along the dark hall entrance, I felt numbness in my entire body. I was nearing insanity, once more. I saw from afar piles of coffins across the other end. I moved closely scrutinizing each, some made of wood and some made of metal. There were assorted colors: red, black, white, silver, gold. Some had intricate designs of Christ’s last supper; others had carved angel designs, most were just plain old, classic-looking coffins. I told myself I wanted none of them when I die. I prefer to be cremated.


Later that afternoon, I had a hard time contemplating, whether or not, to go inside the next room which reads “STRICTLY NO ENTRY”. It was the Embalming Room. I could no longer help it; I had to see him for the very last time before he gets embalmed. The smell of Formalin was somewhat inviting and so; I finally decided to go inside, without any hesitation. Inside that room lay three bodies whose souls have been stripped off by a so-called “Divine Entity”. Their deaths must have been caused by either of two factors, either: an ill-fated accident or a self-destructing vice. Or who knows?


Two corpses were covered with white blankets and were sadly situated on the floor. Seemed to me that this is nothing but showing a lack of compassion towards the dead. I wondered why they would leave the bodies in the floor when there are enough vacant tables. The other body was placed on top of the operating table. Because of the familiar-looking blanket with dark red floral designs, I began to recognize that this body in the operating table was him. I uncovered the body and the sight broke my heart. I looked at him very closely for a couple of minutes because I wanted to imprint this memory in my head for me to remember that moment for the rest of my life. That moment was so precious since it will be the last time that I will see him in his natural, lifeless state since later on he will undergo a post-mortem examination and have the vital parts of his body removed. I held his hand for the last time, poked his pale arms and cried, “Papa, please don’t forget what I told you, keep in touch okay?” Yes, that man is my father. He was my father.


As I started to observe the place, the four walls of the room began to feel creepy. It was deafeningly silent and badly lit. I smell mixed chemical solutions but the only smell which overpowered my olfactory system was Formalin. In the tray, I saw scissors, knives, injections and other sharp objects used for embalming. At the corner of the operating table were long, narrow tubes used to remove blood. I was inside that dreaded place, and I realized I shouldn’t be there. I swore to myself that, as long as I am still alive, that would be the first and last time I’m going inside a place like that. It made me reflect about my own death as well and it also made me realize that I should cherish the life that I have.


The smell of Formalin still reminds me of something. I guess ‘that’ is the place, and there is no other place that can display the inconvenient truth about human beings ephemeral existence, but ‘the morgue’. We are born and then we begin to die. In between, we live. In between, like my father, I’d try live.

throwback: a reminder

Year-end Chain Message [didn't require readers to pass the message though]

There have been times I've had just Php50 to feed myself 

and I've also had over a thousand pesos 

to go out to eat with family or friends. 

I’ve had a house full of food and other times 

I didn't have any. 

I’ve been in stores cashing out with no worries 

and I’ve also had to add it up in my mind and 

put some back on the shelf. I’ve paid my bills in full 

and other times had to pay late. 

I’ve given money and sometimes, 

I too have had to ask for it. 

We all have highs and lows in life, 

some certainly more than others, 

but we’re all just trying to make it through this crazy life.

No one is better than anyone else, 

and my heart is sad for those who think that they are. 

No matter how big your house is, 

how new your car is, 

or how much money sits in your bank account - 

we all bleed red and will eventually fade from this earth. 

Death has no discrimination 

neither should your actions in life. 

A reminder: Be kind to others.

Du...wieder [ode to 33rd]

Du, den ich für viele Jahre geliebt habe

Du, den ich immer noch liebe

Du, der mich als tot betrachtet hat

Der mich jedoch mehr geliebt hat als das Leben selbst

Du, den ich Zwangshaft versucht habe zu vergessen

Du, an den ich immer noch denke

Du, den ich jetzt selbst als tot betrachten möchte

Der aber noch lebendiger als das Leben selbst ist

Du bist die Vergangenheit.

nichts weiter als eine Vergangenheit.

schön, aber nichts anderes als eine

schöne Vergangenheit.

zu schön, um loszulassen. 
zu schmerzhaft um dich zu behalten.

*************
[special thanks to chris, my dearest northern light
for patiently checking and sharing a better/prettier version...mwah]

The Theology of Enough I

and then there was light

indeed

for man learned to love to live

in the dark

and in the end

man learned to love the dark

in the dark, the light is brighter

so bright, it hurts

so bright, it kills

and then there was food

indeed

for man learned to love to eat

to satiate hunger

and in the end

man learned to love the food

with food, the man is satiated

so satiated, it hurts

so satiated, it kills

and then there were words

indeed

for man learned to speak

to express

and in the end

man learned to love the words

with words, the man is heard

so loud, it hurts

so loud, it kills

and then there was thought- enough

enough of all the things that please

the heart

the body

the soul

enough of everything

the cuentos and encantos

and then it stopped when she shouted

"cut those fingernails"

(for that man has his soul trapped in his fingernails...for ever)

flashback: my long-dead father

this is an excerpt from an email by my dear cousin maj—
we haven’t been together for so long, decades!
but we did try and been trying to keep in touch,
keeping the thread that holds our families together…
i have known a little about my father,
they tell me i write like him—
how in the world i should know???
but here’s a message coming from my cousin’s heart,
who may have known my father better than i did…

…."It is indeed always a mystery
why there is so much injustice in this world
when humans are naturally blessed with good hearts.
When I hear of deaths, the first person that comes to my mind
is Tio Aling, your father.
Believe it or not.
He was the only close relative I’ve had
whose death I’ve witnessed and seen.
I’m sorry if this brings you memories…
bitter or sweet…but your father was a good person.
His ideals may have clashed with others but God knows
how he holds human rights as supreme to all.
I vividly remember all the confusion in
Mabini Street when news leaked out about Tio
being tortured and brutally killed…
and his body being brought back.
Those are images that continue to surface in my mind,
even at my very young age.
I clearly remember how thousands of people turned out for the funeral
— never seen that huge crowd in town.
Those are people who have loved your father dearly.
It crossed my mind…
if he’s indeed a "bad" guy that others tried to portray,
then why are there thousands of people who have expressed
their condolences and sympathy to our family?
Yes, sometimes life is a mystery.
And sometimes we are confronted with situations
that are beyond our control…."…

may we forgive...

One can be
forgiven easily from forgetting someone,
we all would leave anyways
and will be forgotten...
but the way we live
and the lessons we learned
and the lessons and life we share
will forever live on...
if only we remind ourselves that.

Each and every day
is a chance to live fully,
make a difference
or even just make someone's day
a little brighter, a bit better.

I sure hope one day,
we'd all learn to be conscious
of our mortality and not waste so much
of the irreplaceable resource (24 hours each day)
being bitter and making others feel bad,
mad or sad too.

Here's a toast to that day.
It'll come...
soon.