November 1, one of my favorite holidays because I love going to cemeteries with those cute white calachuchi flowers, the November breeze blowing through my hair as I walk down the cemented streets pervaded by the smell of incense, and contemplating about life, death, and [possible] rebirth. I have thought about this for as long as I can remember and every time I do, I end up with a headache. At some point in my life, I got tired of thinking and debating with myself and so I just vowed to live life to the fullest since nothing is certain in this mundane world.
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As a child, I often wondered why we go to the cemetery on November 1 instead of November 2. All Souls' Day falls on the 2nd day of November and for me, it is more apt since not all dead people are saints. Until now I still cannot comprehend this. Or maybe it's because of the Chinese tradition to venerate our ancestors and in doing so, the dead assumes a saintly status.
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After a visit to the cemetery, I went straight home to prepare for my Sagada trip that night, missing the chance to visit a temple where an uncle was cremated.
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As a child, I often wondered why we go to the cemetery on November 1 instead of November 2. All Souls' Day falls on the 2nd day of November and for me, it is more apt since not all dead people are saints. Until now I still cannot comprehend this. Or maybe it's because of the Chinese tradition to venerate our ancestors and in doing so, the dead assumes a saintly status.
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After a visit to the cemetery, I went straight home to prepare for my Sagada trip that night, missing the chance to visit a temple where an uncle was cremated.
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