2 Deaths in 40 days: Mourning The Loss of Family

I am struck by the way events repeat themselves. The good and the bad come in discernible patterns, especially in my husband's family. Death and Life, occurring in batches.

In the early 1970's, the Socorro sisters Mama Rubi and Tita Boots gave birth to baby boys just months apart. For Mama Rubi it was her 5th child, Oliver. For Tita Boots, it was her first born, Thunder. Oliver had his own big brother, Owen who was ten years older, and he found another brother in his cousin Thunder.  They are very close, best friends. Fast forward 4 decades later, and the pattern of simultaneous pregnancy has been repeated twice since I joined the family just 3 years ago. 

Brothers Owen and Oliver became fathers just months apart...Owen welcomed his 4th child Mateo; Oliver, his first born Narra. Two years later, another repetition: Thunder welcomes his son Marco just a few months before Oliver welcomes his son Guijo.  There were plans to hold Marco and Guijo's baptism at the same time, and to have a joint celebration when Guijo turned one month old - but plans had to be postponed because of sad news.

Owen with Mateo, June 2009, around the time he
announced to the family that he had cancer.

The family lost Owen on September 5th, after his 2-year battle against lung cancer.  The family mourns his loss deeply, and hasn't recovered yet.  Today is the 40th day since he died and there was a dinner gathering tonight among family and friends in his honor.  Marco and Guijo's baptism was planned the weekend after Owen's 40th day - next week supposedly - but as events are wont to repeat themselves - plans had to be postponed again, because of more sad news. The worst repetition imaginable: another death in the family.

Happy times: Macau 2007.
L-R: My husband Oliver, My Mother-in-law Mama Rubi,
My Cousin-in-law Thunder, and his mother Tita Boots.

Last night, Tita Boots died, all of a sudden, without warning... too fast, too soon.  She had a heart attack, was brought to the hospital, and didn't make it through the night. Oliver rushed to the hospital to see Tita Boots being subjected to CPR - he arrived in time to hear difficult questions he'd been asked just weeks before: do not resuscitate? He called me to say he was going to the hospital to visit Tita Boots...his next text an hour later said we were losing her... then it was over, she was gone.  

And we're going to repeat all the rituals of mourning all over again - wake and funeral ... today is Owen's 40th day dinner ... and we will have another one in 40 days for Tita Boots. The prospect of grieving another loss weighs heavy in my heart... I physically feel the pain in my chest as my heart constricts - for my husband Oliver, for my cousin Thunder, for my sister-in-law Ging and her children, for my mother-in-law who had to bury a son, and now a sister.  

I am an in-law. I am the newcomer in the family, and among the adults, I know Owen and Tita Boots least. I feel like a stranger with few rights to mourn - after all, the shared memories I have with them is nothing compared to the storehouse of memories blood relatives have accumulated through the decades. And yet, I feel the deep, sharp pain of loss - the kind felt by real kin.  The day I exchanged vows with Oliver, they became my family, and the day I got pregnant, my relations with them became cemented for eternity... in my children, the blood lines of their family and mine are forever intertwined. And the day Owen died, I felt it in my gut - I lost the closest thing I ever had to a brother even before I had the chance to get to know him better, I mourned the loss of a possible future with him, of having him as Narra and Guijo's uncle, of having him as my "kuya", the big brother I never had - or almost had.

And then there's Tita Boots. I know little about the details of her life: like where she studied, what she did before she retired, her love life - the big details, I don't know these. But I will miss her a lot because she was there throughout my journey into motherhood - all the important events of my life in the last couple of years were celebrated with her. She came to my house for the "pamamanhikan" before I got married, she was there at the wedding, and when I got pregnant, she gave me maternity wear; when I gave birth both times, she was there at the hospital to welcome my babies to the family - and my last photo of her was taken just a month ago, when she visited us in our hospital room when Guijo was confined.  She was there at Narra's baptism, and I assumed she would be there at Guijo's...

Tita Boots at Oliver's Birthday Celebration, 2009.

Tita Boots at Narra's Christening Celebration, 2009.

My last photo of Tita Boots. She and Thunder visited our
hospital room when Guijo was confined at The Medical City.
September, 2011.

I stared at my Excel File with Guijo's baptism guest list, I stared at the entry that said "Tita Boots" - "confirmed"... and I couldn't bring myself to rectify the entry now that she died all of a sudden - I couldn't get around the pain of reducing the family head count - if only Owen and Tita Boots could be there, for the baptism, for all the birthdays to come. I now think of Guest Lists in a different way. They are not just a way of figuring out logistics: how many seats to reserve, and how much food to prepare. It is not just for the practicality of party planning for me now. After having to deal with 2 deaths in 40 days, I look at a Guest List as a celebration of life, a wonderful, beautiful enumeration of loved ones who are Here! Present! Alive! 

Oliver was inconsolable this morning and I had no words of comfort to offer. But I did have a way to reach into that part of him that sees the light in the midst of darkness. I have Narra and Guijo, and their precious innocence. These children, so full of promise, so full of vigor - offer a powerful antidote to the specter of death. They bring inspiration and hope, and intoxicating happiness, even in times of grief.  

Good bye Owen, good bye Tita Boots. Thank you for welcoming me, and my children to the family. See you at our family reunion in heaven someday.