We become heavy when a loved one passes away. Weight in the form of tears and wails.
Yesterday, my godmother, Lola Maxima, used a concoction of wine and steaming hot water to cleanse guests in the home of the recently departed—my uncle Mike, a loving father to three cousins with whom I grew up, a wonderful husband to my aunt Genie (my father’s older sister), and an always warm, lighthearted person with a perpetual smile.
I first participated in this family tradition when my father’s father died years ago. (I took the small photo of my then-little cousin Jason, above right, in the afternoon after my grandfather’s funeral.) A post-memorial ritual of sorts, guests are cleansed and relieved of their sorrows:
Step One: Cleansing of the face. (Coins were tossed into the bucket, too.)
My godmother—who is such a lovely woman, with a face of great warmth and wisdom—then smacks the forehead to rid a person of their worries and sadness. I believe this custom is an Ilocano one, coming from the region of the Philippines where the Lucas side of my family is from.
Step Two: Smacking of the forehead. (And hey! That’s my mother, on the right.)
I continue to learn of my family’s traditions as the years pass, though admit I know very little—something I’m honestly ashamed of. We also set aside the usual offerings to good spirits who enter the home after a death: dishes of food, hard-boiled eggs, and plates of roasted sesame seed (mixed with marshmallow to create a sugary, sticky slop). The smell is said to drive bad spirits away.
A clip of Lola Maxima, my mother (pouring wine), and others:
You will hear my voice (“I can smell the wine”) and also my mother (“How about some more wine?”). We are daughter and mother, indeed.
I realize, especially in times of loss, that I would like to (or need to?) dig deeper into my family’s history and culture, while I have the opportunity to do so.
My thoughts are with my family. And I am quite blessed to be a part of it.
Related Post:
- Nostalgia (Speech at my grandmother’s funeral, June 2010)
hi, your work is great!
Thank you, Nira. I appreciate the note!
I’m so glad that your dad shared this with me. He is so very proud of you. Reading your thoughts make me wonder what are the thoughts of my own children, who are young men. They are far removed from the “old ways” since somehow my generation and line of the Lucas clan (Alex Lucas) is more removed than my cousins. Perhaps because my dad died at such an early age. Anyway, I will share your thoughts with my children hoping to somehow bring the next generation of cousins closer.
Hi Helen–thanks for the note! Since we have such a massive family, I’m always curious about the other “branches” of the Lucas clan that I know little about, and along with that am curious how others in my generation view their connection (if any) to our family’s past and history. When someone dies, I am reminded that I have all these resources (my parents, relatives, and our family’s elders) to learn about where I come from. I have started to do a better job asking my mom about customs and our lineage, but I’ve barely scratched the surface and I know there’s much to be discovered–and celebrated.
Thank you, Cheri, for capturing this part of the mourning process. I wish I had attended this part as well—I think it’s quite rich and deep—and rituals definitely play a huge and healthy part in the grief process. I remember when my mom died years ago, even though by then I had let go of Catholicism, I found great comfort in praying the rosary for those 9 days after the death.
I’m currently reading a book written by an author named Linda See who is part Chinese. It seems she has been doing a lot of research on her Chinese culture which has been incorporated in all the books I’ve read of hers so far. This one is titled Peony in Love and it touches a lot on Chinese death rituals and the afterlife. Very interesting. All in all, I am very grateful for these rituals which definitely help those left behind.
I, too, let go of Catholicism a long time ago, but I also found comfort in being in the room when others prayed the rosary, observing others grieving and finding peace in their own ways. I mentioned to Nick (above) that even though I choose not to pray the rosary, I have found my own way to quietly reflect and participate in this part of the gathering.
It was nice to see you and Fran.
Well written… I love it…
Thank you!
I’m thinking of you, too. Which will give me time to stop thinking of my own grief. I’d often wanted to write a book about the traditions and symbols associated with grieving–and, of course, healing.
Hey Leslie–thanks for the note (and thinking of you, too, and hope all is okay on your end)…
That’s really interesting. From the video, the event seems less sorrowful – and certainly louder! – than I’d been expecting. Do you find the ritual helps?
Not sure if “helps” is the right word, but I personally feel a bonding and togetherness from it. It’s very interesting, even entertaining, to watch. And it’s a bit odd to say given the circumstances, but it was a rather lovely afternoon when we gathered and mingled in my aunt’s backyard. Definitely a family tradition that makes me reflect on things.