Growing up in the Philippines, I have never had the opportunity (as a kid) to get dressed up and go door to door trick or treatin’.
But we did celebrate November 1st, or All Saints Day (otherwise known as the Day of the Dead). On this day, my family and I would bring flowers, candles and food to the cemetery where other people would gather at the grave site of their loved ones. This day was a celebration of paying respects and remembrance of the dearly departed. This holiday was an important religious day for us. We would stay at the cemetery all day - it somewhat resembles tail gate parties.
I remember my grandfather’s grave –white marble laying flat on the ground.
I still remember playing with the melted wax and making wax balls with it.
I remember the smell of wax in my hand.
I remember walking around the cemetery and visiting all the grave sites and mausoleums.
I remember the lake next to my grandfather’s grave. One time, all the cousins gathered around back facing the lake (height and age order) to take a picture.
While I have adapted to the Western traditions, I feel that sometimes there are things that I miss about the Philippines. This is one of them.
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