Three years after the lockdown, the Echavia Clan, my father’s side of the family, reunites. We spent the event in Davao City, Philippines where most of the Echavias are settled. The reunion was meant for my great-grandparents’ offspring and their descendants.
There were talks by the elders regarding family settlement history and life advice they could give to the younger members. What stuck with me the most is Lolo Mamerto's Hinay-hinay lang or just slow down in English. There are times when I want to achieve so much so soon and it is overwhelming, even unhealthy. Slowing down is a helpful move to avoid burning out, fatigue, and making the wrong decisions.
There were also parlor games for kids. Every one of them is just so cute. When they were challenged to repeat a Bisaya tongue twister, frustration and shock were shown on their faces. Most of them are more comfortable speaking in English, so I understand the reactions.
My favorite part was the music jam. There were few musicians in the family. I sang along in the background when they played Hotel California, While My Guitar Gently Weeps, and Take me Home, Country Roads. I’m grateful I inherited a little bit of their musical talent. I wish we stayed a little longer for more, but we had to leave earlier.
It was so good meeting the relatives again. However, there were times I caught myself staring blankly and my eyes became open doors for loneliness to creep in. The reunion was incomplete because my Lolo (grandfather) is no longer here. He passed away last year in July. How I wished he was present still, sitting beside his siblings, listening and nodding (talking is not really an activity he enjoyed that much)! How I wished he was with us that day wearing his favorite striped polo shirt, bringing his red tiny radio! It’s just never the same without him.
Every time I was introduced as apo ni Mar (Mar’s grandchild), I could shed a tear of both sorrow and joy; sorrow for remembering he really is not with us anymore in body and joy for being reminded that he will forever live in our memories. Remembering him is still painful, especially since we spent our first Christmas and New Year’s celebration without him.
I know time will blur the pain of my Lolo’s or any of my loved ones’ passing, but I also believe there is a piece of me that will never heal from that loss. There will be moments in the future when I’d wish they were still alive and with me. However, I cannot compromise the joy of living on the account of their absence. That is the least of their wishes, for sure. Because of that, I’ll try my best to responsibly enjoy every event, celebration, and moment of my life. So, on second thought, I did enjoy the family reunion with the people who most remind me of my Lolo. I'm sure he loves it.
The photos in this blog are mine.