Goodnight, Becky

We arrived in Baclayon in the afternoon of May 19. I was tired but Trevor insisted that we go to the baluarte. It was just a short wal from the homestay. Along the way I remembered, of course, this is not at all the same as metro manila, this is Baclayon and the air is much cleaner.

At the baluarte, the sea and the sky showed off their calm power. Tears welled in my eyes and a lump rose to the back of my throat. Why? Perhaps a feeling of desperation and anger at humanity’s destructive abilities.

Then I saw Camiguin - for the first time the island was clear of cloud or mist and she bathed vividly under the afternoon sun. I almost didn’t recognise her.

“The ears of a cuddly stuffed toy!” I told Trevor.

We stayed a month in Baclayon and those ears never showed up again.

We were on our third week in Baclayon when I learned that Becky passed away. I learned rather late, two days after, thru a text message from her daughter.

That explained to me why, on the night after she passed away, I got woken up at 4:30am. The aircon mysteriously turned itself on and then after about two minutes, turned itself off again. I asked Penny if there was a ghost in the homestay, and she said no.

Perhaps it was best that my last memory of Becky would be the happy, irreverend Becky. We visited her at the office in April, when her sister and brother-in-law arrived from New Zealand.

In pain, but Becky was so happy to be visited by friends and family, and so happy to be working on Vern’s book. She especially savored when I first introduced her to Trevor, the first thing I bragged was “marunong nang gumamit ng tabo yan!”

baluarte.jpg

Here is a photo I took at the baluarte on our first week in Baclayon. The sea can be so calm it is like a flat sheet of glass. Two weeks later Habagat arrived and changed the face of the sea. Every low tide the sea becomes an open field of “fruits” for picking. Once I saw a group of boys who come to swim, dip their fingers in the water and make the sign of the cross before diving in.

Goodnight, Becky. We miss you.