We paid respects to a family friend buried in a nearby cemetery yesterday. We plucked mums from our backyard to decorate her tombstone. Remembering the dead here in the States isn't as hectic as it is in the Philippines. The cemeteries look the same as in any other ordinary day. People are forbidden to light candles on the graves for fire safety issues.
A tradition my family observes is cooking home-made specialties as an offering to departed family members. Usually it's pancit paired with some Filipino pastry. We then take a small portion of the dishes made, put in on a plate, then arrange a table setting and make-shift altar for the souls, with lit candles and flowers. The belief is that they would come visit our home on All Soul's Day and would "partake" of the food, or at least, its "essence."
I had made (Filipino-style) spaghetti for my Nana, because it was her specialty that I had grown up loving, and my mom had made puto, or rice cake. My Nana has never known about whole grain pasta, but that's what I used for the noodles, as well as regular semolina pasta--cooked separately, of course.
Last year, just after my Nana had passed away, I slept in the basement by myself, only two doors away from the garage floor. I left the lamp light at this computer on as my night light, then tried to sleep in the couch. Not long thereafter, the lamp light turned off by itself. The basement went dark. My heart skipped a beat. I stood up to inspect the lamp and saw that it was still very much plugged in. The only reason it could have turned off was that someone switched it off. I reached for the switch to turn it back on....then decided to sleep somewhere else that night, so I switched it off.
This month would mark the first year death anniversary of my Nana. In some of my deeds, I try to be her, therefore part of her still lives on.
A tradition my family observes is cooking home-made specialties as an offering to departed family members. Usually it's pancit paired with some Filipino pastry. We then take a small portion of the dishes made, put in on a plate, then arrange a table setting and make-shift altar for the souls, with lit candles and flowers. The belief is that they would come visit our home on All Soul's Day and would "partake" of the food, or at least, its "essence."
I had made (Filipino-style) spaghetti for my Nana, because it was her specialty that I had grown up loving, and my mom had made puto, or rice cake. My Nana has never known about whole grain pasta, but that's what I used for the noodles, as well as regular semolina pasta--cooked separately, of course.
Last year, just after my Nana had passed away, I slept in the basement by myself, only two doors away from the garage floor. I left the lamp light at this computer on as my night light, then tried to sleep in the couch. Not long thereafter, the lamp light turned off by itself. The basement went dark. My heart skipped a beat. I stood up to inspect the lamp and saw that it was still very much plugged in. The only reason it could have turned off was that someone switched it off. I reached for the switch to turn it back on....then decided to sleep somewhere else that night, so I switched it off.
This month would mark the first year death anniversary of my Nana. In some of my deeds, I try to be her, therefore part of her still lives on.
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4 vandalized my wall:
Very interesting story about my Nana.
That is a good rule not to light candles in the cemetery. I like that gravestone with the cat.
A nice tribute to your Nana. She'd approve of your healthy whole grain spaghetti.
I also call my late grandparents as Nana and Tata.
cemeteries here in ireland smell of fresh flowers always, and i've never passed a cemetery yet without a fresh bouquet in sight.
that was a scary story in the end by the way. *shiver*
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