The Filipinos are known for their celebrated and most revered Holy Week traditions. The Philippines, after all, is the only Catholic country in Asia. Yesterday, we had our annual Pasiong Mahal. A few months back, Nanay (my Lola) was thinking of not doing it this year. The Pasiong Mahal is actually an excuse for a family get-together, but the previous years, my relatives would come only for the dinner (or lunch) and go home afterwards, not even joining with the reading. I told my Mom that we can’t break a tradition and my Dad added, “Oo nga, nakasanayan na nila Carla yan.”
I should tell you something about our Pasiong Mahal tradition. Back in the 80s, Nanay hired some of her friends and neighbors to sing the Pasion in their house during Holy Week. In 1991, Tatay (my Lolo <3) suggested that Papa record their singing. So every year, we just listen to the recording. There are 15 tapes all in all (yes, we still use the tape deck, vintage I know!).
My Lolo died in 2007. He’s the best grandfather in the whole world. It sounds childish, but he really was. My parents and Nanay always tell me that I was his favorite grand child. Every time I remember him, I still get teary eyed. Even after almost 4 years. Yesterday, I heard his voice and I cried. I cried really hard. He was part of the recording for the Pasion. When we got to the part of Jesus’ temptation by the devil in the mountains, Tatay’s voice filled the room. I felt the tears coming. I eventually cried, silently, with only my sister as witness. My head hurt from holding back the tears. I remember him every day. His love for pants, his loud amusing way of laughing, his crinkly smile, his silent demeanor. He is very much alive in my memory and in every accomplishment I make, I always think of him.
I miss you, Tatay. We all do. <3
Current Music: Dal Shabet - Rollin' Fallin'