She was sixty three. She was buried on a hilltop in a new cemetery in
Cagayan de Oro. Her's was the only grave there. And there was a skinny
solitary tree hovering nearby. I like to think that she enjoyed the view
and the gentle breeze that softened the summer heat.
We went there last May, my classmates and I. We stopped by their house
to pick up her husband who would direct us to the cemetery. Her husband
showed us her old pictures and some newer ones. I saw that she kept some
of mine. I even saw her graduation picture with all that makeup to make
the nose look narrower, the eyebrows thicker, and the eyelashes longer. She
gave me a copy in an envelope with the letters SWAK which meant "Sealed
With A Kiss". I lost my copy when my mother-in-law's house in Golden
Ribbon burned down.
Her husband was gaunt and had hollowed cheeks, He took care of her for
quite a while. She had been bed-ridden because of a lingering illness. He
attended to even her most basic
needs. He understood that I needed a closure of my own. He understood that
we were both lucky for having been a part of her life. My share was that
awkward peck on the cheek and a puppy love that lasted but for a fleeting moment.
Yet she left a dent in my heart that has lasted a lifetime.
He was a very gentle man. I watched this frail figure tenderly, gingerly whisk away
some dead leaves from the marble marker of her grave. My heart really went out to him.
I fought hard to hold back the moisture that was condensing in my eyes. My parents
always told me that tears and crying are only for the weak. I failed them that day.
We went back to Butuan in a somber mood. My classmates and I swore we would
see each other as often as possible. We know that the last time we met may very
well be the last time we would ever meet.
It was a perfect Butuan twilight. The sun had just set. I looked up for my
stars. There were none. And for the first time in my life, I really felt
old. There, buried on a hilltop, under that skinny, lonely tree,
was my youth. I stuck my face out of the van's window and whispered so
only she could hear, "Mila, good bye".
