November 1st—All Saints' Day, and the eve of All Souls’ Day (Dia de Finados)—morphs solemnity with somberness.
After the evening mass, as dusk sets in, the bells of Bom Jesus church begin to toll while the congregation silently winds its way along the moat outside the fort, leading to the cemetery—to place flowers, light candles and say prayers at the gravesites of their dear ones.
I have participated in this ritual for decades, but it was only in 2005 that I accidentally stumbled upon a custom unknown to most of the people of this town.
As I cruised down Bairo Badrapor that night, I noticed, through the swirling fog, that most houses had brightly burning candles 🕯️ on their front porches, while the rest of the town had diyas, 🪔 because it was Diwali.
Badrapor, November 1, 2005
Here was an uncanny similarity to what I had read in my French textbook in school, about the way All Souls’ Day was commemorated in the countryside of France.
But there was no French connection in this erstwhile Portuguese colony of Damão. Could there possibly be a chance this custom had somehow found its way to tiny Badrapor, which was the landing ground for the Portuguese over 400 years back? How come the rest of the population of Daman, so steeped in custom and tradition, wasn't aware of this?
Curiosity taking the upper hand, I parked and walked up to an elderly woman standing on her candlelit porch and asked her the significance of the candles. She explained that the candles were meant for the departed souls who would be visiting their homes on the eve of All Souls’ Day between dusk and midnight.
As I settled behind the wheel of my car on that serene November night, I could suddenly see the spirit behind such customs and traditions, the flesh and blood of the surreal. I could not help but look up at the star-studded sky and then beyond, just for a flitting moment, into eternity. My lips formed those three little words that my soul was whispering —Rest In Peace. 🙏
The Letterbox 📬
Now my parents share the same grave, and I’m homesick for heaven—because that’s their permanent address, and their grave is just a letterbox.
Six I-Love-You red roses are all I’ve been placing in the letterbox—every 24th (my mother's crossing-over day in July ’22) of every month, on my way to church for the evening mass. Been praying for them—for me, really—thrice a day, every single day: on waking, at 3pm, and before I fall asleep at night—to be with them again.
If life could be played again and again, like a mega hit song, I’d play it nonstop forever—with Mum & Dad in the backing track.
PS: I love ❤️ you both, through eternity. 🙏🏼
Signs
My special needs son, Noé, senses when I’m grieving over my mother’s passing. Last year, while driving home from the cemetery, I missed her so much that I asked her for a sign, as I always do.
When we returned to the flat around 8pm, I wasn't surprised when a butterfly 🦋 flitted over me and Noé as if welcoming us home. It was then that Noé took hold of my mobile and tapped at random on the first song he chanced upon on YouTube.
As the music began to play, he took my hands in his and swayed in slow time. I caught my breath at the 55-second mark, the verses leaving me speechless, and the tears bringing me solace.
I have a loving mother
Just up in Gloryland
And I don't expect to stop
Until I shake her hand
She's waiting now for me
In heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home
In this world anymore
I can't get enough of these reassuring signs. After placing red roses on her grave, on her third anniversary 24/7, I went on to church ⛪️ for the evening mass, and later that evening, drove to her house with Noé and inserted a long-stemmed rose 🌹 into the bolt of her front door.
As usual, I was on the lookout 👀 for signs via my faithful messengers: birds, 🐦 butterflies, 🦋 dogs. 🐶
A few days later, on the eve of my birthday, I received this WhatsApp message from my brother...
This time, the sign turned out to be threefold:
• It was BIG! 🐂
• It sat on the porch where she’d sit every evening! 😳
• It was delivered on the eve of my birthday 🎂
It was like, “What more proof do you seek, son? Is this sign big enough? I’m with you 24/7.” ❤️
🎯 And a few weeks later, as if to drive home the point, this beautiful creature tried to kiss 😘 me through the glass of my car window—and wouldn’t leave till I drove off. ❤️ 🙏
Like old wine in new bottles, we’re old souls in new bodies—maturing spirits, that’s what we truly are; and all that we have, is our soul.🕯️