FISH OUT OF WATER

Recently, it was the unfortunate event that my very best friend's grandmother passed away. She was 82 years, born in 1927, and an exceptionally strong-willed woman. Revered by her friends and family in the utmost of respects, her funeral came to be the subject of my "Fish out of Water" blog.

Now I have been to a funeral once before, but at the time I was very young and not especially tuned into what was actually happening. Keisha's lola's funeral is the first Filipino funeral I have ever attended. What was so interesting about it was the sharp contrast to what I have interpreted, through movies and television, as the standard funeral tone and proceedings. Full of laughter and smiling, the funeral was more of a celebration of her life than anything else.

Now for anyone who has grown up around Filipino communities or had a close Filipino friend, they would know that they LOVE to eat! No matter the occasion, whether it's a birthday, graduation, or other kind of celebration, there is always an enormous amount of food! All kinds of food are present, and they always want you to eat eat eat! This apparently also goes for funerals.

The minute I walked into the church, I was greeted by a handful of doting aunties welcoming and urging me towards the banquet in the other room. Smiling, I thanked them appreciatively and found my way to Keisha. Now the moment I saw her, I got tears in my eyes. Keisha is my closest and dearest friend, and therefore her pain is mine as well. Sharing the load in her grief and wanting to emotionally be there for her, I couldn't help my initial response of tears. Keisha however was in anything but tears. She was smiling and laughing and exclaiming in excitement at me finally arriving. Her general demeanor at the funeral was a feeling shared by everyone in attendance.

While waiting for the priest to arrive, I sat around with family members who were sharing stories and fondest memories about their lola. It was a real bonafide family affair. I was pleasantly surprised by the feel of that afternoon. In sharp contrast to a gloomy, mournful occasion, the proceedings were actually a time of joy and praise.

When the proper Catholic services began, the prayers and chants were those to be expected. Everyone sat in the pews and sang along with the prayers and hymns led by the father. After that was done, a few of the cousins went up and shared heartfelt speeches that they had prepared for the services. There were some tears, but not ones of sorrow. The underlying feeling of the entire duration of the funeral was that of joy and pride. Everyone there seemed to be very spiritual and very full of faith. Growing up in a household where my mother is Catholic and my father is Muslim, we were never forced to go to church. It was very eye opening and intriguing to be in a situation with people that were just bursting with faith and religion.