The Saddest Day

Saturday, the 25th of November of the year 2006, the day before my 26th birthday, was by far the saddest day of my entire life.

I woke up at around 3am at the sound of my mom's cellphone ringing. It stopped before mom or I could answer it so we both tried going back to sleep. It rang again after a few minutes then cut off after the 5th ring. I got up, shook mom awake and looked for her cellphone. It registered Tita Pes' number as the caller so I called her back fearing for Tito Toto coz just a few months ago Tito almost had an attack and was hospitalized for a few days for observation as per Dr. Tiuleco's orders. When Tita picked up her phone, I gave mom her cellphone and let them talk. Tita was crying and almost incoherent. Mom's knees gave out on her from worrying at hearing Tita's voice, but she was able to glean that Tita was on her way to Jose B. Lingad Regional Memorial Hospital. They didn't talk for very long since Tita cut off the line. Mom gave me her cellphone and I tried contacting Tita again, got a busy line, tried Tito Toto's and when no one was answering tried Tita's again. When her phone finally rang and she answered, she was hysterical and crying harder. I asked her where she was and she said they were at JBL. I asked her what happened and she told me, "Fe ala nala reng pinsan mu" (Fe wala na mga pinsan mo) before sobbing uncontrollably and cutting off the line again. I knew Peter, Paul and Camille where scheduled to come home Friday night or early Saturday morning so I figured something must have happened to them on the way home. I couldn't accept what Tita said. My mind just didn't want to register that my cousins where gone. So I didn't tell my mom what Tita said and only told her that we needed to leave for JBL right at that moment. So we left, and on the way to JBL I kept praying and wondering which of my three cousins got hurt. Is it one of the twins, both, was Camille with them, were all three of them hurt? I kept asking God that please, anything would be fine just as long as they weren't dead. I would accept it if they were maimed, in a coma, disfigured... anything at all just not dead as it sounded from what Tita told me on the phone. I just couldn't accept that.

That must have been the longest 45 minutes of my life that ride to JBL. I wanted to get there and learn exactly what happened, but at the same time I didn’t want to go there because I didn’t want to learn that my cousins were dead.

When we got to JBL, we saw Tita sitting on a monoblock chair near the ER entrance surrounded by a group of her relatives, Tito Toto standing a few feet away with Fr. Larry talking to him. Tita was crying, Camille sitting on her lap also crying hysterically. Mom immediately went to them also starting to cry. I didn't need to hear Tita say that the twins were indeed dead. In a way my own crying was because of relief that Camille was alive, that she was spared from the twins’ fate. I remember repeatedly thanking God that Camille was alright.

After a few minutes, we went upstairs to the ER to look at the twins. I met Sir James Bonifacio on the way up but I couldn't remember what I answered him. I think I just nodded when he asked if I was there to see the twins. He knew them coz Sir James is also a Bosconian like the twins. He’s the twins’ sempai by around four years, I think.

Peter and Paul... They were covered and tied up in white sheets with only their toes visible. Blood that pooled on the stretcher where Paul was laid was dripping on the floor and there was a mop near him. The sheet covering Paul's face was filled with blood. Peter was lying nearby on a similar stretcher with similar coverings sans the blood on Paul.

Ate Dada, the twin’s cousin from their mother’s side, got their clearances signed so the twins were then taken home Apalit and to St. Louie Funeral Homes for embalmment and cleaning up. Mom and I helped Tito Toto pick out the design for the twin’s coffins. We ended up going for an all white with simple silver design identical metallic coffins. It seemed surreal, that experience of standing there in the midst of so many coffins, like it was another person doing so and not me. We went home after choosing the coffins and got the house ready for the wake. Peter didn’t take very long to finish up. His autopsy and embalmment was done first. Paul’s took longer since they had to patch up his face and try to make his face look as similar as before even without his right eyelid coz he lost his eye during the accident. When the St. Louie people were both done with the twins, they brought them to the house, Peter first and then a few minutes later Paul already in their coffins.

They were interred yesterday after an hour long funeral march to the parish church and a two-hour long mass with numerous eulogies. The church was packed, almost like during Sunday mass with people standing at the sides, aisle and even outside the patio and doors. Archbishop Aniceto came to officiate, along with Fr. Larry, Fr. David, Fr. Jerry and Fr. Jabby (the last two are Salesians who were the twin’s principal and professor when they were still studying in Don Bosco in their elementary and high school). It was already dark when we finally got to the cemetery. It hurt to hear the scraping of the bottom of their coffins as they were pushed into their graves. Hurts even more to see Tita, Tito and Camille crying.

I know what I just told you is pretty morbid, and the way I’ve related what happened seems so impersonal... I just don’t want to think too much about what I felt and still feel about their loss. It’s too much. This year was by far the saddest birthday I have ever experienced because of what happened. I didn’t plan on celebrating my birthday, not in a big party celebrating kind of way. What mom and I planned was just to buy a cake from Ala Crème on Saturday and then to cook some pancit and barbeque on the 26th to share with my cousins, the twins and Camille, and their parents coz Sunday was the only day when we were all together. Obviously none of those so simple plans ever came to be nor will they ever come to be in the future.