We were in the cemetery
Afternoon of June 29
It was his birthday
Another birthday without the celebrant

Mother placed yellow candles over him
And sunflowers over the grass
His favorite color

40 years of life
8 years gone
Or 8 years in another world
If you believe in that stuff

I walked around
And saw others' resting grounds
Some dead before I was even born
Others dead at the prime of childhood
Simple tombstones, mausoleums, caskets

A burial was taking place on the other street
Mourners dressed in dark shades
A priest, the only one in white

I was wearing white
My mother was wearing violet

After the niceties and the prayers
We had a little picnic
Chicken Adobo
Mom tries her best
But can't replicate the flavour of his

I reminisce of my days of innocence
In the green gate of the school
When he picks me up
The gray sand of Baler
Where he grew up
The brown hills of bohol
My first plane ride

I was now 8 years in disbelief
8 years in trouble
8 years in agony

The salt of the meal moves me to tears
Imperfect replicas of perfect memories
But I can't let myself cry

I remembered suddenly the night before
In a quick glance
I thought I saw his face in the mirror
But it was just my tired face
I was listening to "Bato sa Buhangin" by Cinderella

On the drive home
I listened to the same song
It was his favourite
He could play the melody with a guitar
Something I've been practicing for a while now
But fail to do

At home
On the bed before I sleep
It finally erupts
And I say to myself
"Father, why did you leave us!"