Back in the day, the only thing I looked forward to every All Saints' and All Souls' day is the lighting of the candles in front of the house while me, my cousins, and friends, collect the melted candle wax to form balls of candle waxes. We compare our candle wax balls and the one with the biggest gets the bragging rights. We then would keep those candle wax balls and bring them out next year when it's time to collect new melted wax. Afterwards, we would have dinner at home. My mom always cooks biko. She would put away some in a small saucer, then place those in front of the pictures of our dead loved ones right beside the altar.
When I was younger, to be honest, I never really cared about the photos on the altar. Most of them in there were really old people I only knew from the stories that my parents told us time and time again. They'd be reminiscent of the funny things they did, of how close they were to our loved ones when they were still alive. As for me, I never really had a close relationship with them since I never really met them. Or maybe I just couldn't remember. All I cared about was that ball of candle wax I want to make.
We don't usually go to cemeteries back then because first, money was tight, and second, their final resting place is mostly in the province. The fare we would use for the travel could be used for food, bills, and other important things. As I mentioned, I don't really mind. I just want the candle wax. And the biko my mom cooks.
When I grew up and started living by myself, I stopped doing the customs. For one, I don't think my landlady would appreciate the fire hazards that those candles will bring. And besides, I was too busy making a living. Paying my own rent and bills, buying my own food, and having to pay for everything I need myself was a challenging task. Collecting candle waxes did not seem too appealing to my exhausted soul anymore.
This year is a bit different. Hell! It is a lot different. The soul of the loved one we will be lighting a candle for is my Papa. He died last March. It has been more than half a year that I don't see him during my video calls with Ma. It has been more than 7 months since the last time I heard his voice. It has been a long time since me and my sister played a prank on him. We would normally just crack jokes with him, joke about some things, do things that would normally won't get past him when we were younger. These jokes always end up with him rolling his eyes on us and him saying "Ambot!" (It's a bisaya word that roughly translates to "whatever!")
When someone that close to your heart is gone, there will always be a huge gaping hole in your heart that will never be replaced. I still find myself crying because I terribly miss him. Whenever I call my mom, there's this part of me that expects to see my father laying down on the bed, or just sitting right beside Ma, looking over at our call. How can a daughter get used to the fact that her father could no longer answer her when she wails "Pa!" just because she wants to call him. Yeah, I'm that daughter who is already a grown-up but still calls to her father out of nowhere just because.
Now, I'm torn about lighting a candle for All Souls' day. They say this tradition helps bring our dead closer to us. They say it's a way of communicating with them. But could lighting a candle somehow make me feel his warmth again? Would it make me be able to hug him again? Would that lighted candle make me hear his resounding AMBOT! again? Will I hear one more story from him? Will I get one more life lesson? I miss joking around with him. I miss the sound of the giggles after we crack jokes with him.
My Ma is planning once again on cooking biko this All Souls' day. I doubt it would be as sweet as the way she made it before for I am sure she will be terribly heartbroken while making it. My Pa loved her biko so much. He loved her so much.
For this year's All Souls' day, I guess I'll introduce the custom of lighting a candle to my daughter. I know she won't remember her grandpa but I guess I'll take the time to carefully paint a picture of her Lolo's life. While she may not remember him, I will make sure that she will also learn all the important life lessons I learned from my father.
This year is a lot different because even though I fully understand that the candle I'm lighting is meant for my father who even though is no longer with us, will surely remain in our hearts forever. This year, I will no longer be collecting melted candle wax. I will be collecting all the memories I have of my father and hope that through those sweet memories, I get to feel his love, I get to hear his laughter, I get to remember his life.
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