Requiems for Sister Aurora

Eternal rest grant unto her, Oh Lord
And let perpetual light shine upon her.
May she rest in peace. Amen.

But wait! Why the solemnity and seriousness? This blog is supposed to lift the spirit. To make the readers smile and be happy. Sister Aurora wouldn’t have allowed anyone to cry and feel sad and devastated. When she was around, she wanted everyone to be happy. And, of course, she always thought that this blog gave her happy thoughts. And she smiled in anticipation when she opened her computer.

And so, after the priests said the last prayers and blessings, as soon as the white roses and white anthuriums were distributed to be thrown to the grave when the casket is lowered, as hankies and boxes of tissue were pulled out for the inevitable, as old folks were poised to wail their loudest, as we bowed our heads in silence to pay our last respects…. suddenly, a nun took the mike and announced to all and sundry that the burial will not push through.

What? What is this, a wedding? That in the middle of the ceremony, somebody would just shout, ‘Stop the wedding! That man (or woman) is already married to me!’ Or as the wedding march is played, somebody would announce that the wedding will not push through because the bride ran away with the best man, or the groom ran away with the maid of honor, or something to that effect. Sister, this is a funeral. And in our impoverished barangay, you don’t stop a funeral like you stop a wedding. It is a taboo. Kadu gid.

The madre was profuse with her apologies for suspending the funeral rites. She said she also asked for apology from Sister Aurora. She announced that they were temporarily suspending the burial because the coffin containing Sister Aurora’s body would not fit in the grave. According to her, they were assured by the Memorial Park’s authorities that their standard size graves can accommodate even the coffin of their biggest foreigner client. She ended her apology by saying that the authorities were rushing to enlarge the grave and that the actual burial might be done the following day.

Sister Aurora died last Monday, May 10, in Cagayan de Oro City. She was a hospital administrator in Mindanao. Her body was supposed to be brought to Iloilo last Thursday, but the nuns couldn’t find a coffin big enough to contain her enormous body. Sister Aurora, when alive, had grown to be enormously healthy. The funeral parlor custom-made her coffin. Her body arrived in Iloilo last Sunday, in time for the scheduled May 17 interment.

After everything was said, mourners closed their mouths and looked at each other as if to ascertain that they heard the same thing. It was their first time to witness a funeral being suspended just before the coffin was to be lowered to the grave.

Relatives and friends placed the white flowers atop the coffin, lined for the packed snacks, and went home. There was no crying, no wailing, and nobody looked up to the heavens to contain the flow of their tears.

The nuns were spirited as they tackled the faux pas. This could be what Sister Aurora had wanted. ‘Si Sister Aurora talaga,’ they gushed. ‘Ganyan talaga siya. Pinapasaya kami palagi.’

It was just 11:00 am. As I drove home with my family and two nuns who asked me to drop them at the mall, I received a call. It was from the memorial park. I was informed that the grave will be rushed and the burial was scheduled at 2:00 pm.

I rushed back before 2:00pm. Baka wala ng workers. The nuns might need me to carry the coffin and lower it to the enlarged grave. I hoped I would not get hernia.

The nuns were at the memorial park’s chapel where the coffin was temporarily placed. A few relatives and friends were also there to accompany the nuns.

At 2:00 pm, sweat-drenched laborers came to carry the coffin. In this morning’s schedule, barong-clad pall bearers would have carried the coffin to the grave. But this plebeian funeral could be what Sister Aurora had wanted. Possibly the nuns could have thought so. And I thought that the sando-and-shorts pall bearers could be far better than the sight of my lonesome self and the coterie of nuns huffing and puffing as we shout 1-2-3! to move the coffin inch by inch to the grave.

The nuns were singing as the coffin was lowered unto the grave at 2:10 pm. But not before the memorial park attendants opened the coffin and peeked at the actual size of the cadaver. In their years of working in the memorial park, this could be the first time that they re-worked a grave because of the size of the cadaver.

There were much fewer people now compared to this morning. But, yes, Sister Aurora. A number of those by your grave shed tears. This was a funeral afterall, inspite the distinctiveness of the circumstances.

Sister Aurora, please pray for us.