One of the fondest memories I have of my childhood, weird as it may seem, is about me with my cousins crouched on a tomb bathing in the light of candles surrounding us while watching our uncle collect candle wax, and forming a ball out of them. Yes, a memory of my All Saint’s Days during the good old days.
The ball was actually a tradition. Every year, we collected the candle wax from the candles we light for our loved ones who passed away. I think that’s a beautiful thing, we made a good thing out of the sad. Every year, we would go to the cemetery early in the morning, and stay there until night. We would have these mini family reunions, dine in the cemetery, pray, and bond with one another. It was a good way to spend the day of the dead.
The ball made of candle wax became one of the ways we commemorated the memories our loved ones who left us too soon. Eventually, we all grew up, and the ball was forgotten. Every year, less, and less people came. I guess that’s how life works. But one thing I hope would never change, that the memories of our loved ones will never be forgotten, and buried to the backs of our minds just like their bodies on the ground. I hope they will never become the forgotten ones.