Matters Of National Security

We were caught unprepared when the doctors announced my dad's passing. Standing just outside the ICU, his sister suddenly burst into tears and began walking away from the huddled group of people. Her son followed to try and contain her wailing mother from making a scene in the corridor. Mom pushed her wheelchair in one corner, her blushed face and wet eyes quietly absorbing the prognosis of her other half's condition.

The last time I saw my dad conscious was when he was being carried out of the ambulance at the driveway of Manila Doctor's Emergency Room. Struck by a massive blood clot on his brain earlier that afternoon, the look on his bloated face covered by an oxygen mask still burns deep inside my head. With his glazed eyes staring at emptiness, his limp wrist dangling from the stretcher, and the battalion of nurses trailing behind his litter, one knew the end is near.

Hours after the message was delivered, those who remain steadfast amidst the sinking feeling of losing a beloved began discussing the preparations for his final journey. The tragedy happened too swift that no cushion would soften its impact. With only twenty thousand pesos on my bank account, the money wasn't enough to even cover the expenses of his stay in the hospital.

How can we entertain the thoughts of giving a decent funeral when we could not afford one?

Through friends and family connections, a friend of my mother offered her husband's Memorial Plan for my father's use. We were assured that the payment would not be discussed throughout the whole ordeal out of sympathy. Their graciousness was immediately accepted. It felt like a thorn was pulled out from our spine.

Father was granted entrance into the gates of heaven a day later. He left a mountain of troubles for us to resolve but peace was with him when he bid adieu. Less than an hour after the pronouncement. The ambulance arrived to whisk his lifeless body away from the government hospital and into the waiting funeral chapel in Araneta Avenue. Trailing behind his cortege were several vehicles including those from my mom's sisters and my dad's friends.

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The lesson learned from this tragedy made us aware of the things that are bound to pass. Morbid as it may seem, but what kept the burden from becoming heavier was the pre-made arrangements between the funeral and our grieving family. We owe the one who lent us his husband's memorial plan because without it, the decency my father deserved will not be his even in death.

To look back and linger remains a thought I would not desire, for it still send shivers whenever I remember how precarious our state was. A year after his passing, I decided to commit a fortune so that a Memorial Plan shall always be a part of my family's well-being.

Four years after my father's death, the last of the payments has been arranged this afternoon. Ironic as it may seem but the entire earnings I received from the Sikyu Agency early this month has been used and paid for the remaining balance to ensure that this essential matter keeps my mind at peace.