On Death, Beauty Queens and Sad Stories | Clare Henney

My family and I went on a trip to the cemetery yesterday to visit the grave of my grandfather (and of several other relatives who were nearby).  We weren’t able to find his grave the last time we went to the memorial park because the place was too large and for some reason, my sisters and I just could not remember where exactly the grave was even if we were there when he was buried.  Luckily for us, my mom’s sisters and brother were there to help us find the grave.  It turned into a reunion of sorts, with us having a picnic by our dearly departed(s).  We ended up staying there for a few hours that afternoon.  I didn’t really know this side of the family that well, so it was nice to be able to see and hang out with them for a bit.

Believe it or not, this was the first time that I found out the name of my maternal grandfather’s parents.  My grandmother and grandfather (Nanay and Tatay, as we called them) have been separated way before I was even born and my grandfather had remarried (well, sort of, I’m not quite sure) twice.  He had kids in both relationships — hence the relatives that I do not know or have just recently met. According to one of my aunts, my grandfather had a total of 16 kids.  My goodness Tatay, ikaw na ((my grandfather was a very handsome man, I really shouldn’t be surprised)!

I’m moving out of the topic.  It’s the first time that I found out that one of my uncles is named after my grandfather’s father.  It’s also the first time I found out that we’re Mendozas in my grandfather’s side of the family as well.

When I read the name of my grandfather’s mom, I immediately remember a photo an uncle of mine posted on Facebook about her being some sort of beauty queen.  One of those Carnival Queens I think.  According to my mom, one of my grandfather’s sisters was one too (or it could be just one of them, the aging memory can be a tricky thing).

I tried using Google to search for any information on my grandmother (or great-grandmother) because of these beauty queen-ish photos but I haven’t had much luck in it.  I have emailed a Manila Carnival blogger but I’m still waiting for a reply. To be honest, I’m not even sure if the photos are of the same girl.  They look different.  Could it be my great-grandmother and grandfather’s sister?  I’m so curious!

These photos are from my uncle.  I’m not quite sure if this is my great grandmother or my grandfather’s sister because my uncle passed away already and there’s no one to ask who can say for sure.  But obviously, she’s a Miss Luzon.  I wonder if anyone can help me research this part of my family heritage.  I’d really love to know more.

I can’t help but be curious about these photos because I know very little about my grandfather’s side of the family due to his separation from my grandmother.  I really wish I knew more but most of the people who’d be able to help me have passed away.  My grandfather’s siblings have all passed before him and my aunts and uncles from that side of the family are all in the US.  One day, I hope I can find out to satisfy the history buff in me that wants to know more about my grandfather’s family heritage.

Moving on…

As our day with the family drew to a close, I started taking pictures of the memorial park and some of the grave markers near us. I have to admit that I’m a bit of a romantic in the sense that when I looked at the graves, I wasn’t thinking of ghosts but more about the people who have been laid to rest.  I wonder what kind of people they were, what kind of lives they lead.  I wonder about the people they’ve left behind and how they are remembered. I couldn’t help but wonder:  If these people can you their story, what would it be about?  One particular part of the park for me had a sad one.

I was taking photos of the markers right beside the ones from my family when I noticed something that was heartbreaking for me:  there were three markers, for six people who were all from the same family (Borromeo-Ledesma).  There were three boys and one girl whose dates of birth and death showed that they all died as infants.  One was barely two months old, one barely a month old, another who lasted eight months and another who lasted a month.

I can’t imagine how heartbreaking that must have been for the couple who had them, especially the mother who had to carry all those children to term and to lose them so quickly.  The dates of birth, 1930, 1934, 1936 and 1937, showed that they really kept on trying to have kids.  It made me so sad to imagine how they kept on having hope for children over and over and had to suffer that loss several times.  Hopefully, they had some in between 1930-1937. The last marker showed that they had one last child: Ma. Angeles, in 1938.  She grew up and got married and died in 1987.  As much as it would have been a happy ending to the story, it wasn’t: the last marker showed that it was also the grave of Ma. Angeles’ mother, Marina, who died six months after she gave birth.  How tragic. I would have stayed sad during the start of the new year because of this story (I am overly dramatic that way) but I was happy to find a good footnote to this story: I searched Google for information on the mother and found that her descendants had a reunion in Toronto in 2006.  I’m assuming that this family grew and had its happy ending after all (at least I would like to think that way from now on). It’s six hours until the new year.  I look back on my year and I’m happy that in spite of the challenges, I have made it through OK.  I look forward to the promise of a new year and a better life ahead — I hope that you all do too!

Happy New Year everyone!