Sunday, August 24, 2008 Luab: A humbling experience By Evelyn R. Luab Ligth Sunday
I ATTENDED the burial mass of Ulysses Antonio Chan Yap at Sacred Heart Parish Church last Aug. 16 and went with the family to Cempark to bid Ulysses a last good-bye.
During that time, what I saw and heard humbled me so much so that very night I prayed and said: “Thank you, Lord, for making me a small part of the occasion, allowing me to be a witness to what I felt were your tender hands, Lord.”
So much warmth and love amidst the grief of the family of Ulysses flowed. His wife and his children bravely tried to prevent the tears from breaking out and when it did there was not a dry eye in the crowd.
The burial mass was concelebrated but the main celebrant was Fr. Bobby Yap S.J., younger brother of Ulysses. I knew Fr. Yap since he was in short, khaki pants as a Boy Scout in Sacred Heart School for Boys.
I got to know him better in third and fourth year high school. We both worked closely together in the Seeds (the school’s publication) in the many projects we had, but he excelled in oration. I remember his twinkling eyes as he clutched his trophy won in the regional finals at Bacolod. To be present at the Holy Mass and receive the Holy Eucharist from his hands filled me with such humility.
Here was our “young-un” turned man, turned priest whose homily delivered in controlled grief was awe inspiring which I, his former English mentor, could not even hope to write half that well.
At the Holy Mass, a best friend of Ulysses since grade school (and who was with Ulysses in Manila during Ulysses' six-month stay at the hospital) was by my side.
As his shoulders heaved in controlled sobs and tears freely fell, I prayed hard for all of those whose lives were touched by the goodness of the man Ulysses was. The Gos of Sulpicio Lines were there in full force. The grief on their faces as they went back several times to view the open casket cannot be mistaken for anything else but heart-felt grief.
I was especially touched at the cemetery. When the casket was opened for the last time before it would be lowered into the grave, the sun suddenly shone in the face of Ulysses. In less than a second, the great Don himself of Sulpicio Lines Victoriano Go got an umbrella and shielded Ulysses from the rays of the sun.
That gesture gave me a picture of care, tenderness and love for a friend. As he hugged the wife and children in comfort, I saw Ricardo and Harold Go’s eyes well up in tears.
Sulpicio Lines has been dubbed as heartless many times over by so many people. (No, I am not forgetting the pain of lives lost in the recent sea tragedy. Neither am I judging or saying that people with grievances shouldn’t speak out!). However, what I’m saying here is that I was privy on that day to the hearts of the family as they mourned, as they reached out, as they bared their feelings, their tenderness to their friend of long standing. Because of what I saw, I know that people with hearts such as these will somehow do right in whatever way they can.
I stayed at the cemetery until only a few people were left. In all the time I spent there I felt the love that the Yap siblings, women and men exuded towards each other, most especially towards their mom, protecting her all the while, ever watching that at no time would she be left alone.
In these present times when people just treat the home as a place to eat and sleep, and where communication is barely had due to fatigue from earning that illusive peso, I felt privileged at the opportunity to witness God’s consuming love for a family.
I stopped by our grave plot by the rotunda at Cempark. I spoke to my departed mom and dad. I asked them to help me thank God for making me a witness to the love, care, concern, tenderness, and strength which He blessed us.
When people with such attributes exist, there is still much hope for all of us.
