Goodbye to the ashes
01-17-2009 Saturday
I spent my weekend on my aunt's house in Posadas Village, a posh subdivision for the wealthy human beings. Every once in awhile when I visit my aunt, I get a royal treatment there. Her house is huge, and filled with everything that only rich people can afford; a bathtub, air-conditioned rooms, a flat screen TV that's as huge as those on movie theaters,a laptop with original and licensed software, maids to serve your food. Well, yeah we can say that I'm trying to make some of you jealous.
Everytime I'm there I can't help but think that I should be enjoying this wealthy lifestyle every friggin' day if only I choose to stay with her. That means I have to leave my gramma and mom and that's something I can't do. I chose the people who raised me up and took care of me since then over those material things. I should be getting a martyr award for this or something. Nah seriously, I'm fine with being poor. I'm free. I can do whatever I want. No restrictions. NO curfews! (sheesh that really sucks). And more importantly, I'm skilled to survive even in the worst of the worst. Something that is earned throughout the years of famine, insults and failure.
Putting those aside, the reason why I'm here at my aunt's house is because today is the burial of my grandma on my father's side. She died in Canada, was cremated there and my grampa brought her ashes home to the Philippines. She went home...even in the form of ashes.
The burial was held at the Heritage Park, somewhere in Taguig, I think. It sometimes sucks when you're in a car, you're not aware of where you are, you just get there. It's sort of a reunion as well since our relatives from wherever arrived there. I have to go through a lot of kissing in the cheeks, greetings, handshakes and small talks of "how's it going?", "wow you've grown a lot!" and so on.
It ain't easy. Aside from the fact that these relative of ours are filthy rich, I'm also having a hard time moving around. I blame it on my sleeveless white blouse and fitted black pants. Yep, you read it right. Sleeveless!! Horrible and disgusting. My arms are not feminine and I'm not used to wearing something that exposes the underarms! Oh Jesus. you could just imagine how the sweat on my underarms are killing me! Not that my underarms are dark and hairy, they AREN'T!! I just prefer them being hidden under a sleeve because that's how they're supposed to be! Heavens, I hate underarms.
Anyway, I was pleased to see my Tito Bobet at the burial. God, it's been years! The funny part is that he works in a call center as well and we work for the same account, not the same company though. He's a customer care rep, I'm with sales. We talked about work, about calls, about customers. I feel like I was at work then yet surprisingly, I didn't cringe. The conversation just went on smoothly. Guess that proves that I don't hate my job anymore.
A mass was held before the urn containing my grandma's ashes were buried. We threw flowers just like what they did on movies. (Hey, this is my first formal burial so bare with me). Afterwards, there's this small buffet for us to feast on. Man, talk about good food. I feel like a hippopotamus that I can barely move by the time we drove home.
Argh! I just remembered! Too bad I didn't bring my camera. Sorry. No photos.
posted by Monica-Lynne @ 12:30 AM
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