Once Upon a Sunset by Tif Marcelo

Author:Tif Marcelo [Marcelo, Tif]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2020-03-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Margo, in fact, had not been ready. When Johnny swabbed her cheek, she didn’t really understand that it might truly connect her to the Cruz family. When those little girls called her Lola, she hadn’t taken the title into her heart completely. And even as she witnessed her daughter’s interactions with Joshua—admittedly another uncomfortable moment—she had not comprehended that her daughter was truly attracted to him. It was as if Margo was having a lucid dream, alternately solidly in the moment and unsteady, like right now, riding onto Manila Memorial Park.

Margo rolled down the window, letting in the warm air and the scent of grass, as the car passed rows of headstones.

Once places of fear and of sadness, over time she began to see cemeteries as places of gathering and of quiet celebration, even behind tears. Looking out now at flowers being laid on tombs, of a random teddy bear perched on a headstone, and at a gathering of visitors, this place felt more like the continuation of life rather than the end of it.

But to think that all that time, her father had been here. It didn’t seem real. Her whole life, she’d accepted her mother’s explanations about Antonio Cruz, and they’d been enough for her.

Should Margo have insisted on more, like her daughter had?

“Here it is.” Joshua broke the silence and directed the driver to pull over. Diana exited the vehicle first and came around to Margo’s side, though Joshua beat her to the car door. He helped her out of the car, thank goodness, for even if Margo hadn’t needed the assistance, his firm grip grounded her. “It’s a ways down,” he said.

I like him, she wanted to say to Diana, to whisper in her ear. I like him because he can read between the lines. The car ride had been full of tension because of what Margo could only presume was a misunderstanding between them, and she wanted to ease her daughter’s angst. Diana hadn’t made a mistake with this man, because he was good.

But right now, Margo wasn’t a mother but simply a daughter.

They passed the rows one at a time, and Margo read the names as she walked by, looking at bouquets of small fake flowers. Around one raised cement edifice, a family congregated with flowers and food, in celebration of life. Tiny gifts and expressions of devotion from the living to the dead, to nurture the love they had for that person, to stoke the grief that continued to burn.

How did her mother mourn? Had she found peace and closure? Margo, so young when she first asked about her father, simply chose to accept he had given her mother the best of himself before he left for the war, but not once had she seen Leora grieve for him. Did she leave flowers somewhere special to her? Did she build an altar? Or did Leora simply swallow it all, forget?

“We’re turning left down this path,” Joshua continued.

The immediate landscape changed around them, and then they were flanked by mausoleums.

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