My Roommate Speaks Of Gratitude In Sorrowful Moments

At my roommate's father's interment.

My roommate who is currently nursing a sublime wound from the loss of her father speaks of gratefulness to those who surrounded them with generosity, love and support in those times when nothing but gray surroundings enveloped them.

Bayanihan spirit never ceased in the culture of Filipinos. Day in and day out, when a family loses someone, they become friendly ants hauling their resources to aid the family. Our spirit of helping and being compassionate is never outdated. It in fact is getting stronger as our new generations of Filipinos take centre stage as older ones fade away.

I wasn't there when my roommate flew back to join in the mourning with her siblings. All I have are photos of what has transpired during the wake, those long nights of painful moanings and emptiness. Images that are compelling of a community, despite the burden of poverty around them, came and bring anything to be a part of something and comfort those who grieved.

My roommate's life is obscured by her quest for privacy and intimacies of her enduring existence. Since the day her little feet tried so hard to catch up a running transport and cried for her mom to get off and walked back to a family she left behind, my roommate has undergone painful growing up years without the love of a mother. Along with the rest of her siblings, they were sucking the wrong nipples from aunt's who came to nourish them so they will live.

Their father nurtured them alone where he spread his arms the whole night to provide his children the human pillows they need to feel love even in the absence of one parent. He did what he could to make a family crippled by the departure of his wife to a new life on her own, he survived caring for his children. They were cuddled by different relatives so they will grow and become educated. My roommate's education were at times interrupted by lack of financial capabilities from a single father who worked day in and out to provide for them.

But despite it all, they were brought up responsibly. My roommate's love for her father was beyond compare. There were times during her elementary years, at graduation where nobody came to hang the medal for her. Everyone cried, as she recalled those bitter memories with fondness, when she stood there waiting for her aunt to climb up the stage. No one was there at that moment except her pet dog who wagged its tails when she got off the stage. In college, she poured her heart out and consistently on the dean's list, a scholarship she maintained successfully because she knew her father can't afford her tuitions.

If I will to write my roommate's life story, the keyboards will be wet all over. Her father was a devoted man. Despite his limited resources, he was still active in his community. Something they gave back at his funeral by covering his casket with a draped Philippine flag and a burst of gunfire in recognition of him being a father who never gave up and served his community in his lifetime.

My roommate in the midst of a breaking heart knows the people who work tirelessly in their hours of sadness. She wants to thank them all....all of them. The ones who surrounded them, the ones who held their arms and walk with them.

Gratefulness will help them through the many months ahead so they can find the sunshine once again. Their father will be smiling at his children who also didn't failed him.

Thank you from the Jawa family.

Interment.