Letter to Old Friend: I see dead people?

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By China Ang

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Dear friend,

When I was about two years old, I attended my first funeral. My great grandfather on my mother’s side had passed and the whole family traveled to Palawa, a rural part of the Philippines.

At the time, electricity was scarce and when it was dark, it was dark in the truest sense of the word. This visual guide will help later in the story.

As a two year old, I had no concept of what death was. I did not understand the finality of it all. I had yet to grasp the concept.

So when, in the dead of night, at my grandparent's house during our own little private memorial service, I called out for my great grandfather, my family was reasonably spooked. 

My father was carrying me in a way that I was facing away from everyone else. I faced a part of the house that no one else could see and proceeded to call out, “Lolo Milio!”

It was followed by silence. No one in my family dared to say a word. My mom says that she remembers smelling candle smoke not long after I did what I did. She also says that I fell asleep not long after calling out for my freshly buried Lolo. 

I think I have borrowed memories from that night. I took in all the eyewitness accounts and formed them into memories that I can still see in my mind’s eye. 

But I also believed that it happened. 

In the Philippines, people believe that children have a connection to the beyond, a third eye of sorts. In America, this can be explained away with overactive imaginations and children who like to cry wolf. 

Being a child of both countries, I don’t know what to believe. Maybe I believe both. 

Sincelerly, 

Your friend