Kumusta Ka, Papa (Today, I Miss You More)

Today, I miss Papa more than usual.

I miss him so much that no amount of tears and no string of words can make sense of the ache in my heart. It's the kind of missing that sits in your chest and stays, quiet and heavy, all day.

I miss having someone in my corner.

Papa had a way of telling me I was doing fine. And on the days I wasn't, he told me that was okay too. He reminded me that I could make mistakes, because making mistakes is human. I didn't have to win all the time. Most of all, I didn't have to fight all the time.

I didn't know how much I needed to hear that until there was no one left to say it the way he did.

Right now I'm listening to his song, Kumusta Ka. I picked the FPJ version on purpose. I had no idea FPJ could sing until Papa played it for me. In the same way, I had no idea Papa could sing until the day he sang this song himself. I can still remember being surprised, and I can still remember his voice. Every time the song plays, it feels like he's asking me the question himself: Kumusta ka, 'nak?

And honestly, Pa, I'm trying.

I miss you every day, but today I miss you more.

I wish you were here to tell me everything will be okay. I wish you could do it the way you did when I was little and got hurt, when you kissed the pain away and somehow, it really did stop hurting. I'm older now, and the hurts are bigger and harder to explain. I still wish you could kiss them away.

What I have now are your words, your song, and the way you loved me. I carry them with me. When things get hard, I try to hear you saying it's okay to rest and okay not to win, and that I'm doing fine.

I hope I'm making you proud, Papa.

I love you. I miss you. Kumusta ka na?

To anyone reading this who is missing someone today: you're not alone. Some days the grief is louder than usual, and that's okay. It's love that has nowhere to go.

Undas: Where Faith, Family, and Filipino Tradition Meet

 

Every November 1 and 2, my family goes home to remember. 🕯️

I grew up going to the farm in Bohol with my parents, carrying flowers and candles and listening to the grown-ups trade stories in the warm afternoon. As a child, I thought it was simply a family reunion with good food. It took me years to understand that I was being taught something sacred: that love does not stop at the grave.

Today, I am the one leading my son Sam to Cebu to visit his Grandpa's tomb. He never had the chance to meet him, but I make sure he hears the stories. This is Undas, one of the most cherished traditions in the Philippines, and for our family, it is a promise we keep every year.

The Faith Behind the Tradition

In the Roman Catholic Church, the two days carry distinct meanings:

• All Saints' Day (November 1): Honors all saints, known and unknown, who have attained heaven. It is a Holy Day of Obligation, and Catholics attend Mass to celebrate the communion of saints.

• All Souls' Day (November 2): Dedicated to praying for the faithful departed, especially those believed to be in purgatory. Masses, rosaries, and prayers are offered for their rest.

Both days rest on a beautiful belief: the bond between the living and the dead is never broken. The faithful on earth, the souls being purified, and the saints in heaven remain united in prayer.

How Filipinos Observe Undas

Every family adds its own warmth to these sacred days, and ours is no different:

• Visiting the Departed: Families travel from cities and abroad to return to their hometowns and visit the graves of loved ones.

• Cleaning and Decorating: Tombs are cleaned, repainted, and adorned with flowers, usually chrysanthemums and sampaguita.

• Lighting Candles: Candles symbolize prayer, remembrance, and the light of eternal life.

• Praying Together: Families pray the rosary, recite novenas, and attend Mass at the cemetery or the parish.

• Sharing Food: Meals are shared at the cemetery or at home, turning the day into a reunion filled with stories and laughter.

• Pangangaluluwa: In some regions, an older custom where people sing from house to house, asking for prayers for souls in purgatory.

Why It Matters to Us

For me, Undas is where Filipino values come alive:

• Pagmamahal sa Pamilya: Love for family extends beyond the grave. My Papa, my Tatay, and my grandparents are still very much part of our stories, our table, and our laughter.

• Paggalang: Respect for those who came before us is taught through action. Whenever I see kindness around me, I am reminded of Papa, and I glow with pride to be his daughter.

• Pananampalataya**: Faith gives us comfort that death is not the end, but a passage toward eternal life.

Passing the Tradition On

Now there are three little ones in our family: Sam, who is 8, and baby Maple and Simon, who are 2 and 1. They may not fully understand yet why we light candles or why we speak softly beside a tomb. But they are watching, just as I once did, and one day they will understand.

My hope is that they carry this tradition in their hearts and pass it on to their own children. Because Undas is not just a visit to a gravesite. It is a gathering of generations, a quiet act of faith, and a reminder that love, respect, and family endure until eternal life.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen.

May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen. 🤍