Dogbert’s Whip

Have you noticed that no matter how cruel or galling a person is, he or she becomes a better individual in death? It’s not uncommon to hear audible whispers during wakes, espousing the alleged positive traits that the deceased has exhibited in the past. One good case in point is the philandering husband. He may have fathered dozens of children through his adulterous affairs with six different women, but in his death, he’s the best dad and husband in the world. Even his legal wife would agree: “At least di nya kami pinabayaan,” the wife, as you could imagine, would tell her consoling amigas in between hysterical sobs and gulps of tranquilizers. Why, even one of man’s illegitimate daughters would deliver a heart-rending eulogy from the stands, complete with quivering lips, smeared mascara, and an ending that would most probably involve an anti-climactic fainting spell.

The reason why I decided to write something about eulogies has something to do with a funeral service that I attended last weekend. The service was for the mom of a good friend from college. Only in this case, my friend’s eulogy for his dear departed mom was crisp, sincere, and clearly devoid of any superfluous declarations of praises that are so common in most eulogies. It was so raw in fact that the words caught up with me, and before I knew it, I was wiping tears from my eyes. Maybe it helped because I’m aware of the challenges that my friend had to endure when his mom came in and out of various hospitals. And as a self-confessed “mama’s boy,” the thought of losing my own mom is simply unfathomable (knock on wood). 

I had met my friend’s mom only once in the past. It was during our college graduation way back in 2000. All I could remember is that she was a radiant smallish woman with a warm smile. That brief encounter was understandably not enough for me to realize what a great mom to her children she had been. Through my friend’s eulogy, I learned that she sacrificed a lot to send her children to university. See, my friend’s mom was unable to fulfill her wish of becoming an architect. In the old days, a woman was perceived to end up as a doting housewife to her family, no matter if she shows great promise and potential.

Music happens to be my friend’s mom’s passion aside from her family. Before the funeral service, cd’s containing her favorite songs were handed out. Scanning through the compilations, there were standards from Barbra Streisand, Norah Jones, and Sergio Mendes. Clearly, my friend’s mom had impeccable taste. It also tickled me when my friend recounted how his mom is unable to cook anything but sopas and ketchup-drenched spaghetti. And since their brood consists of three boys, his mom’s frustration is not having a girl for whom she can sew dainty dresses. My friend’s mom has worked as a seamstress for most of her life, and it’s highly admirable on how she was able to support the needs of her family with the threads of a spoon pin.

Through the twenty-minute eulogy, my friend managed to maintain his composure. Although his voice was beginning to crack towards the end, I couldn’t imagine being in his place, being the cry baby that I am. When the funeral service ended, people flocked in front of the casket to get their final view of the deceased, and to pay their last respects. I turned to the Duchess of Acoje Platinum (DAP), another college classmate and good friend who joined me in this trip to Angeles City, and asked her if she wanted to take her place in the queue. DAP shook her head, saying that she’d rather not have the final memory of our friend’s mom as a mortal body resting on satin sheets. In my mind, I shared the same sentiments. For in the end, it’s still comforting to remember my friend’s mom as the radiant smallish woman with a warm smile, an impeccable taste in music, and a heart that has endeared her preciously to those around her.    

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 29th, 2006 at 7:58 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.