I know, ’tis supposed the season to be merry and November 1 has long passed by. But I have just come from the funeral of my Ninong Ruben Valdeavilla, who’s also the husband of my aunt. He died of stroke on Thursday afternoon, much to everyone’s surprise.
This really depressed me because: 1) I got pretty close to Ninong when I stayed at their house for almost six months when I worked in Lucena City; 2) Christmas is just around the corner and then death; and most of all 3) I know how much my Tita Ninang Nor and Ninong Ruben loved each other–they’re the only couple I know who almost never bickered even when Ninong Ruben was teaching Tita Ninang Nor to drive (what a feat huh?)–and I can’t even begin to think how much Ninang will miss Ninong Ruben. If Ninang wished December 21 were really the end of the world, I wouldn’t have blamed her. At least, the love of her life would have been away from her for just a day. It would have been comforting to think that Ninong Ruben just decided to go sooner to find Ninang and Venisse (their only child) one of the best places in the other world.
Around the corner
I’ve never had someone really, really close to me die. You know, someone whose cold hands I will still hold on to (except probably my grandparents, but then I was far away when they died). And I am very grateful to God for that. I’ve always been scared of death. As a kid, I used to imagine myself going insane and inconsolable if one of my parents died. Even my titas and grandparents. But when I entered adolescence, I viewed death as something normal. I guess it was because like other teenagers I felt invincible. But now that more and more people I know die, and now that I have my Raviv, I fear that death is just lurking somewhere near. Ready and eager to attack, and cause grief. It doesn’t help too that I have just finished Season 5 of Grey’s Anatomy (I’m so far behind, I know!) And you all know what happened to Izzie Stevens and George O’Malley.
Dear God, not now
That Randy and I would still be alive to celebrate our Golden Anniversary with our children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren is one of my most ardent prayers. But if God has other plans for me or for Randy or for Raviv (dear God, please no), we can do nothing of course. So the thoughts that I tried to brush aside for years surfaced, and I now acknowledge them. I have to, because I have my Raviv.
So here is a list of some sort of my current last wishes:
I want my picture on my tarpaulin to be clear (unlike most tarps I see with really stretched photos with bad Photoshop done), without any advertisement of the funeral home.
I want to be cremated, and I want my ashes to be just in the house of my loved ones.
All my valuables (my designer bags and my few pieces of jewelry) will be given to my daughter. If I don’t have a daughter by then, maybe I want the bags distributed to to my friends after Mom had chosen the bags she likes.
If Raviv or any of my future kids were 15 years old and below, Randy sweetheart please don’t remarry right away. Wait for at least two years please. Our kid(s) would definitely, definitely need you, and a jealous new wife (or even girlfriend) would definitely, definitely get in the way or your being both a disciplinarian doting dad and a forbearing mom.
If Randy and I were both to die together, I want my parent to get my kid(s). Mom, please stop working so hard when that happens. Please be more shallow–please be overly concerned about throwing Raviv (and his sibling/s) the best DIY parties, and make sure that Raviv (and his sibling/s) are always among the best dressed children. Dad, please be more fatherly. Please want to spend more time with the children other than hanging out with your friends. Please be firm when you discipline, and practice what you preach. I know what I’m asking might be unfair, for you have already raised TJ and me. But please, I’m begging. And oh yeah, please raise them in Los Banos or in Sta. Rosa. And attend church with him/them. Every Sunday. Both of you.
Stop na, naiiyak na ako wala pa ngang nangyayari. But again, I realize that the thought of dying scares me more now because of my son. It scares me that I won’t be there during the most important moments of his life: his circumcision (I’ll take a picture and use it to blackmail him when the need arises), his becoming a UP Oblation scholar (a trivia that I will insert in every conversation I have), his wedding (his bride will either love me or hate me because I will definitely meddle too much with the preparations), etc. But more than these occasions, I would definitely want to be there for him during ordinary days that will be made extraordinary because I will be with him.
Anak I pray that Tatay and I, plus of course your lolo and lolas and tito will live loooong so we can shower your with more love. 🙂
I know this is creepy but have you already thought of your last will? Care to share ’em here?
Tell me what you think!
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