A Model Death: How Atty. Vicente De Lima Died With Excellence

Uncle Vicboy, the youngest son, sharing to us his father's last words.

He lived large. He died well. And the little town he loved gave him a grand goodbye fit for heroes.  He was, after all, a proud son of Iriga, and a true local hero whose presence would be sorely missed.  Atty. Vicente Bagaporo De Lima, my grand-uncle "Lolo Inte", had a kind of death that inspires. He always endeavored to be a model citizen in life - and he stayed true to this ethos to his final days.  A role model as a dying man, he was. We could all wish a death like his. Not that there is anything grand about colon cancer. But it is how he seized the opportunity offered by his disease that I find instructive.  As the disease weakened him day by day, he took the chance to do beautiful things: he made amends,  he said his goodbyes, and left instructions. All these, he did with excellence.

Lolo Inte's widow, Lola Norma, with their eldest daughter, Auntie Leila.
In their living room.

"Patawad" (forgive me). This was the word most uttered by Lolo Inte in his final days. In his speech for his father, my Uncle Vicboy relayed how he asked his father "How are you?" and he replied "These are the happiest days of my life".  When Uncle Vicboy asked what caused so much happiness, Lolo Inte gave the most surprising response: it is happy times because it is the time for forgiveness.  Like other men of power, Lolo Inte was bullish.  He was not the type who tread softly, and he was no fence sitter either. He would take a strong stand, speak his mind, and exert great influence on matters big and small. People like these, who do not play safe, are bound to constantly clash with those of a differing view. And this is what makes him awe-inspiring.  He was ever the gentleman. A strong fighter who played fair and won the respect of friends and foes alike.  A big man with such a strong will shines with a blinding light and casts a huge shadow. Anyone who lived too close to him may have suffered from the intensity he radiated, for it mustn't be easy being too close to a raging fire.  His final act, of asking for forgiveness from anyone he may have hurt - of acknowledging his shortcomings - is disconcertingly poignant.  It is such a humble gesture for a big man who lived loud.  I knew Lolo Inte to be a man of brilliant intelligence and sharp wit - but his final words, seals the deal - he is truly a wise man.    

The driveway leading to the house, lined with funeral wreaths.

Patawad. It means many things related to making amends: forgiveness, sorry, pardon, indulgence. It also means immunity, and absolution - very appropriate words for something as final as death. But there is an earlier meaning, for the root word tawad, which today is understood as "bargain" and "discount". An old dictionary from 1915 lists the following alternate words for tawad: turing, utos, bilin, or in English: bidding.  His final act is to ask for forgiveness, as it is to ask those he leaves behind to forgive one another for any future conflicts after he is gone. Lolo Inte was the patriarch - a unifying force that glued a huge family together.  He was leader and chief, arbiter and judge, warrior and protector, sage and shaman. Yes, shaman.  He, to me, was the link to ancestors, and authoritative interpreter of the wishes of the dead. He gave them voice, and reminded the living to honor their legacy. He was rooted to the family's land, cultivating not only trees and vegetation, but also memories and dreams.  Tawad means bilin (bidding), and he made sure to leave instructions - both the serious kind (like his will, which shall be read to the family next week), and the "fun" kind - like funeral details which he planned the way a bride plans for her wedding.

A student string ensemble from a nearby school, during the wake.

It almost seems irreverent to say this, but I believe Lolo Inte found the "fun" in funeral.  He picked which photograph of his would be blown-up for the banner; he decided the placement of his coffin in his large living room; he picked the color and kind of flowers to use. He arranged for his wife's ride to the church and cemetery, aboard a brand new car he picked out himself.  He even talked to the caterer, deciding on the menu, and placement of buffet tables.  There were nearly a dozen tents with dressed tables and chairs set up on his huge front lawn for visitors... and even a couple more tents to the side for "performers" - a choir, dance troupe, and several bands - an orchestra - a brass band - string ensemble - various groups performing at different times throughout the 5 days of vigil leading up to his funeral.  It is one of the grandest affairs his house has ever hosted. No less than President Noynoy Aquino came to pay his respects. A Philippine flag flew proudly from Lolo Inte's flag pole.  A red carpet was rolled out, from driveway to his living room, making for a stately path lined with funeral wreaths from so many political figures of diverse leanings (including Joma Sison).  The funeral wreaths were later transfered to the cemetery, all three trucks of them, and they were arranged on the path to Lolo Inte's final resting place - it looked peculiarly festive.  "The happiest days of my life" was what he said to Uncle Vicboy, when asked how he was in his final hours. What a beautiful thing to say. My achievement-oriented Lolo Inte succeeded in living large and dying well.  

It was such a beautiful affair I felt sorry to leave early to catch the last flight to Manila so Oliver and I could return to our kids. I had to head from the church to the airport, without joining the funeral at the cemetery.

I am sorry I was unable to bring you to your huling hantungan Lolo Inte. Patawad.