40th Day

But then that's how death is. It turns the mundane important, the trivial unforgettable.

Friday is Bong's 40th day. As old people would have it, that's when the soul is finally freed from being earthbound; finally accepting that he has to go to the light. That's what they say.

As for me, probably because of that old wives' tale, I begin imagining tender moments with Bong: embracing me tightly, earnestly telling me that he is finally leaving and that he'll truly miss me. My imagination is probably just so great it makes the scene so vivid and the feeling quite intense. At times it's difficult to have this movie house in my mind, running those scenes that make missing him more sad, dolorific. 

This morning before going to the insurance agency I was finally able to pass by and visit Bong at his bachelor's pad. What I saw made me cry, really cry. There it was beside one of the vases, a plastic doll of a power puff girl. I suddenly remembered that Bong used to watch that cartoon whenever he caught reruns while surfing the telly. I found it weird, I never liked that cartoon but he just loved watching it, it escapes me why. When I made some trite remarks, he'd just ignore it and switch channels. In fact, I used to catch him watching morning reruns of that cartoon and when he realizes that I am already awake, he'd switch channels immediately. That doll made me remember a tiny fact of my past life with Bong, a simple event that I shared with Bong when he was alive. I've already forgotten that but the doll was a jolt of a reminder. It made me miss him more. 

I learned from Bong's mom that Angie, Bong's eldest niece at 9 years old owned that doll and that a day or two ago, she decided that she would bring the power puff doll and give it to Bong to make him happy because she knew that her Tito Bong loved the power puff girls. Sweet kid. She's the same niece, being the eldest she's the only one affected, who broke my heart when I saw her after waking up, she'd approach Bong's coffin during the wake, rest her head on the lid, looking at her Tito Bong lovingly while she kept wiping the glass pane with her forearm. 

Last night, I decided I should start clearing up Bong's stuff that I've left lying around my toilet. There's not much of his stuff lying around the room, and the few that were are kept fastidiously as was his wont: a pair of slippers and 2 pairs of rubber shoes lined up with mine by the door; some empty shampoo bottles that only he used; his water pick; a D&G cap, his favorite polo shirt that I keep hanging outside the cabinet for me to always see, several pairs of shorts, a few shirts kept in his clothes drawer, and his raggedy stuffed toy dog that he insists on propping up in bed.

I tried to start with the shampoo bottles. I thought I could just easily throw them away. I couldn't. I decided to just clean them up, dry them and put it with his stuff in the cabinet. I will probably just box them and place them under my bed, including the shoes. I tried to remove his waterpick, but I couldn't. Perhaps I'll try again tomorrow or perhaps on Saturday, but hopefully not never. 

It's 4:00 AM, there's no more time to sleep. Today is a new day.