AFTER my mother passed away 23 years ago, I drove my father every day to visit her at the family plot in Cebu Memorial Park. Despite months of doing this, I noticed that each time we visited, my father’s grief was deep and long, and he was inconsolable.
So I asked a Redemptorist priest if the daily visits brought my father nearer to, or farther from, healing.
“My mother was sick when I was just seven years old,” he began. “Each day, I knew it would be a matter of time. But when she died, the finality of it made me inconsolable.”
He continued, “The mind might be ready for the eventuality of a loved one’s passing away, but not so with the heart. It’s a long journey from the head to the heart.”
I asked, “How could I help? What could I do?” “Just allow him to grieve; only after he has fully grieved, can he begin to heal,” he said.
So, every July 5, we remember her death anniversary. She was specially loved: vibrant and health-conscious, so full of life, great sense of humor, rich laughter, and loyal friend. Still, cancer claimed her.
The balm to our wounds was the knowledge that she was never in pain, nor showed any pain, throughout her three-year battle with cancer.
All these memories turned fresh when news reached me that a colleague at UP Cebu in Lahug here, Prof. Josefina “Pinit” Carvajal, breathed her last Saturday at 3:58 a.m.
My many years in teaching long convinced me that teachers had the singular privilege of touching lives, that whatever the subject they were assigned was simply a means to build bridges so that young minds and hearts could know more about life and how to live it.
Therefore, that whatever that course name or code number was just accidental, that all subjects somehow led to the real subject, Life.
Pinit reinforced my conviction. As a teacher, she was ideal: master of her field of study, ever committed to give the best to her classes day after day, until her retirement.
Her subject was both means and end. Biology, the science dealing with the study of life, even the means to know ourselves better.
But she was more than a teacher. She was passionate about enthusing her classes with wonderment about life, about the diversity in the living world and the many ways such diversity can be preserved.
Appreciation and respect for diversity for others’ thoughts and words she demonstrated in both person and profession. Which is not to say that she did not have her own strong sentiments and beliefs.
But in many an academic discussion, she always showed an open mind, her eyes focused but clearly processing whatever was on the table. And when discussions became a tad emotional, she would gently shake her head, her brow slightly creased, before saying “Maybe we should listen some more, because she/he might have a point.”
Those who saw her throughout her affliction said Pinit did not feel any pain, despite her four kinds of cancer, and attributed this to her prayerfulness. May her family find solace in the knowledge that the Lord Himself gave her a loving homecoming.