By Virginia Jasmin Pasalo

 

HOW do we remember? How often, how long do we think of our departed and loved ones? Perhaps not so often, and we forget their significance in our lives, so we assign a special day.  Last January 9, I attended one of those special days: the 70th Lingayen Gulf Landings Anniversary and the 17th Pangasinan Veterans Day. There are 37 surviving veterans of World War II.

During World War II, an uncle on my mother’s side, was among the 70,000 US and Filipino prisoners captured by the Japanese and force-marched 101 kilometers to a prison camp. Only 54,000 prisoners reached the camp and his name did not appear in the register of survivors. Taking notice of the video presentation, it is possible he died of starvation or bayoneted before he reached the destination. The exact number of deaths during the 1942 Bataan Death March was not known, but it was estimated that “some 2,500 Filipinos and 500 Americans hay have died during the march, and an additional 26,000 Filipinos and 1,500 Americans died at Camp O’Donnell”.

They deserve to be remembered, we need to remember, for whatever reasons we believe to be true. Governor Ramon Guico III paid a tribute for their patriotism and nationalism, and so did Philippine Veterans Affairs Office (PVAO) Undersecretary Reynaldo Mapagu. There is a looming threat to worldwide peace and security which we must all confront, and remembering is a vital exercise to arrive at a strategy for survival.

 

In-between

So, I think of you
in between the bursts of water
raining on the shrubs
and as I dig the ground to impose
a seed on its belly
I think of you, not all the time
but in between pauses
and rests from cleaning pots
and forks and spades
and shovels and garden tools
I think of you as I snip leaves
and buds violated by insects
the day ends with a bee
but too slow to bite my skin

I smell the fresh grounds,
and again, I think of you,
before it lands on my lips
as a kiss, bitter and sweet
intoxicating, full-bodied

then, I try to remember
the significance of this day
a date we used to celebrate
together, and apart
I fall apart, thinking
“what were we?” “what are we?” “why?”
so much time spent thinking
in-between the rustle
of dried leaves

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