The Cemetery

For two days in a row, I came to work nursing a terrible migraine.

I knew from experience that staring at distant scenery - especially those with hues of subdued green - would help ease the throbbing in my temples. So like yesterday, I opened the shades of my corner office (yes, I was blessed to have a little corner nook) and looked north to the hills of what I believe would be Antipolo and Rizal. Moving my sights leftwards, I could see familiar buildings in the distant in what could only be Quezon City.

And then I looked down, to a place located just a ten minute walk from my building. The tree coverage gave it enough greenery for my eyes, but what caught my attention was the grounds itself. Splattered with white rectangles and some various other colors here and there, I was looking at the grounds of the Makati Cemetery, a.k.a. the South Cemetery.

Back in College, I frequented cemeteries to study and reflect - they were quiet places. I never did see cemeteries as places of the dead - which they literally were. I saw them as places of peace. I've always wondered what happened to these people after they've been placed into the ground: How did they die? Did they die smiling? Or did they die in pain? Was it quick? Was it slow? What did people think of them? Did people think of them at all? Where are their souls now? Were their souls happy? Sad? Bothered? At peace?

Did they live their lives to the fullest?

As I watch the cemetery from 37 floors up, I see the glaring contrast between the peace within the walls and the traffic right on the other side, and then I wonder again: Does that driver even think that someday, he too could be lying inside those very same walls that he must have become accustomed to driving by every day? Does he think of his death?

Do you?

Jesus came into this world knowing that he was born for one reason: to die for us all. How many of us embrace the thought of death, hoping that we, like Jesus, could die for a purpose? We will all die anyway. It is the only sure thing in life. But do we actually live knowing that we will die? Jesus did - and thus His life was extraordinary.

My migraine has subsided a bit. Time to work towards making my life as extraordinary as possible.