R.I.P., Col. Efren Azada Cleofe

while i write, 12 hours ahead and half a world away, my grandfather is being buried, with military honors, in the motherland. dad says that siblings of his that could afford to go home, as well as some of my cousins, were crying buckets. he also mentioned that a whole lot of people attended his father's last rites, if only to truly see the old man being buried.

even if my father quipped like that, i wonder if he felt even a tinge of regret or remorse for his father's passing. i know that they never truly saw things the same way, but being a son myself, i find it hard to swallow the idea that one would willingly allow oneself to never forgive nor ask for forgiveness. it may be because i have a relatively good relationship with most, if not all, of the people in my dysfunctional family that i can be assured of an audience with any of them.

i hear that they gave my grandfather the whole package: parade, 21-gun salute, military giving my grandmother the flag, etcetera. sure, he retired a colonel, but they buried him as a first star general; the honorary rank that was bestowed to him when he retired. my dad never promoted him past captain though; he was always called "cap" by him.

i suppose, all should be forgiven now -- all my grandfather's shortcomings and transgressions. i just hope that wherever he may be, he's now at parade rest.