We have had yet another death in the family. 

I think I’ve lost count of how many deaths there have been this year, but I think this is the fourth one in the immediate circle of my relatives.  We heard the news last Saturday but because the people in Marikina were still in a panic over what had happened, no specific plans had been made until Sunday. 

So on Sunday afternoon we marched up to Marikina, looped around the city for about an hour or so because we got lost, and we paid our respects to the old man in the coffin.  The dude was my paternal grandfather’s brother, Jose Repuyan, or Tiyo Peping as he liked to be called, and he died at the age of 85.  Not bad, considering the family history.

When I got there, immediately I was shocked at the total lack of grief.  Sure, there was a hint of sadness in the air but there was no crying, which I found to be odd.  I guess they were sort of expecting the old man to kick the bucket, and that’s why when he finally did there was nothing left?  Or maybe it was because they had been so used to setting up funerals and wakes over the years that they had it down to a mechanical pat?

Still, there were the stories.  It was agreed upon that the saddest moment after the death was when Tiyo Peping’s wife, Tiya Remi saw his dead body and was slapping him on the face to wake him up.  ‘Gising na! Ano ba, andyan na si Ruben!  Nakakhiya, pinaghihintay mo pa ‘yung tao!’  Apparently it didn’t register to her yet that her husband was gone already.

As with all wakes, it became more of a family reunion more than anything else.  I saw and met people I didn’t even know I was related to.  I mingled with long-lost cousins from when I was a child.  It was actually a great experience, sans the fact that somebody was dead.

The interment’s to be on Thursday and I think I might spend Wednesday night there in Marikina with my father.  It is still one of my resolutions to get to know my relatives, after all.