Death: How often do we talk about it?

(Image credit: http://www.mailman.columbia.edu/)

There were four of us: two women and two men, talking in the wee hours of the morning about death. Although one of those topics that people don’t usually talk about, for this group of people, there are no boundaries as to the topics that we can easily and so openly converse with. And so we talked about death.

The topic came about when the conversation has been led to our grandmother, our beloved Nanay, and her ongoing payment for her gravesite. Uh-huh. She already bought a land where she wishes her remains to be laid at after she leaves this world. Where would she go after? I always wonder.

My younger brother, sitting on my left, voiced out how much he felt bad after Nanay told him of her latest purchase. Of us three, he’s the one closest to Nanay as he is the youngest and the one that received the most affection from the good old woman. This is not to say that we don’t adore her that much, my older brother and I. We do. It’s just that we have a different mindset and approach on things. When Nanay told me about this, the thought that came to mind was, “she’s being practical, planning ahead of time, and tending to things that we all know will happen in the years to come.”

So then, he talked about how heavy his heart felt when Nanay started talking to him about her permanent residence six feet under the cold, damp earth. We talked to him about this and tried to coax him. Our mother in front of me and our older brother on my right. We sort of formed a square or a diamond, depending on which angle you look at. But we’re there and we’re talking, sharing our thoughts about the matter at hand.

We told him that it’s reality and that Nanay is simply being realistic. He interjected that even so, he still doesn’t feel good about it, saying the he didn’t know what to reply to her at that exact time. He merely listened to her talk, describing where she would be laid and how easy it would be for us to spot her.

Then Mama told us about the story when she was seven years old and Nanay gave her instructions on what my mother, young as she is, should do once Nanay died. Nanay showed her the dress she wishes to wear in her deathbed, and strictly ordered Mama that people attending her wake shouldn’t gamble. Three days after, they should bury her. Those were her instructions. I can only imagine the thoughts running inside my then 7-year-old mom. Mama told us what she told Nanay right then. Mama told her mother that it’s not her time to die yet. When Nanay asked why that is so, Mama replied, “Pa’no na ‘ko ‘pag namatay ka? Sino mag-aalaga sa’ken?” This almost made my eyes water. They didn’t. But the message came across.

Mama shared this story so that my younger brother would feel better about Nanay’s decision to pre-purchase her gravesite. I think it helped but I also know that the fear in our hearts, of the time when it would really be Nanay’s time to go, now holds tighter. She’s 79 and she’s got a heart condition. Though she’s stable and able bodied, we don’t want to even start imagining a life without her.

Now that we’ve passed the sad part of the conversation, we moved on to our own wishes for when it’s our time to lay flat in our coffins.

Kuya came first and said that he’d prefer to be cremated. Three days after, we are to scatter his ashes. Mama interjected that cremation is inhumane; mutely saying that she wouldn’t want that for her son. Kuya insisted that that’s what he wants and I went on his side and told Mama that it’s Kuya’s body and that he should have the final word about the matter. This here, is another great thing I love about my family. We can tell each other anything, they would share their thoughts about it, but would still respect the decisions we make.

Not sure if it’s just for the laughs or he’s really serious about it, but my younger brother shared that he wish to be laid in the coffin with both his arms crossed behind his head, his ankles crossed against each other. We were all laughing as he was showing us the position he wants to be in. I am laughing right now as I recall the scene. Silly boy. I asked him if he’s serious about it and he said that, indeed, he is. We asked him why he wanted that and he, still laughing silly, said that it’s so people who sees him in his deathbed would laugh or at least smile and not cry over his leaving. He’s witty. I’ll give him that.

Mama spoke her side and said that all she wanted is for us to play the song “Telephone”. Not sure who sang this but I think it’s the one from Sarah Shannon.

And of course, I shared my 2 cents on the matter. Hehe. My death fantasies are easy. I’m not to be embalmed, buried after three days, (though Mama said that un-embalmed bodies should be buried the next day at the latest), so there, I am not to be embalmed, buried the next day, and that’s it.

I plan to design my funeral dress too! I want to look good in my deathbed. Although I wish that people would remember me more for my smiles and silly laughter.

People stay away from the topic of death because it’s sad and it’s morbid. But it’s real. It’s one of the realest things in this world. I understand Nanay. She only wants to make sure that we wouldn’t have difficulties arranging her funeral when the time comes. Thinking about it, I should’ve told her that we should’ve bought lands for all of us, so we can lie beside each other. I didn’t. But I wish I had.

We will never know when our time will come. It’s sad to think about dying. Yes, sad, not scary. I’m not scared of death. Don’t call me names for saying that because it’s true. For me, death is simply sleeping without waking up. Maybe the process from which you will receive death is scary but not death, no not death itself.

Death is sad. Just thinking about not being able to be with the people I love, losing the privilege to hear their laughter, see their smiles, exchange stories with them, makes me really sad. But I know that my time will come. The people I care about, their time will come too. There’s no stopping it. There’s nothing we can do about it. If there is something we can do, it’s to live each day to its fullest.


Keeping in mind that this might be the last time you will say goodbye to your officemates after work, your classmates after school time, the last time you’ll exchange hellos with your former classmates, workmates, or neighbors, will create a whole lot of difference on how you will value your time here on earth and affect how you interact with people.

The thought of losing something makes us appreciate and treasure them more.

Live for today but always feel mighty excited for tomorrow. *wink wink*