The year 2020 marked a season none of us were prepared for. It was a time when the world stood still, when streets fell silent, and when homes became both refuge and confinement. During this period of pandemic and quarantine, we lived through what history will remember as a locked-down world—physically distant, emotionally strained, and spiritually tested.
This was not just a public health crisis. It was a human crisis.
Families were separated not by choice, but by necessity. Loved ones passed away without the comfort of a final embrace. Burials were conducted quietly, quickly, and in isolation—bypassing the very heart of Filipino culture, where mourning is communal, where grief is shared, and where the dead are honored through presence, prayer, and togetherness.
In many cases, there were no wakes filled with stories and tears. No nights of vigil. No gathering of relatives traveling from far places. Instead, there were sealed coffins, limited attendance, and families left to grieve behind closed doors.
For a culture that heals through damayan—through shared sorrow—this was one of the deepest wounds of the pandemic.
Yet even in this silence, something powerful emerged.
When Grief Had to Be Carried Alone
I witnessed how strong people had to become overnight. Parents buried children. Children buried parents. Some could not even attend the burial of their own loved ones due to quarantine restrictions. Grief was compressed into solitude. Tears were shed quietly. Prayers were whispered alone.
And still, people endured.
Faith became the gathering place when physical gatherings were forbidden. Homes turned into sanctuaries. Silence became prayer. Distance became discipline. In the absence of rituals, meaning had to be found deeper within.
A Season That Redefined Strength
The pandemic taught us that strength is not always loud. Sometimes, strength is simply waking up and choosing to move forward despite unanswered questions and unhealed wounds.
It taught us that love does not end at death, nor is it diminished by distance. Even when we could not say goodbye properly, love remained. Even when traditions were set aside, respect and remembrance endured.
This time forced us to redefine mourning—not as a public act, but as a deeply personal journey of faith, acceptance, and hope.
A Message to the Living
This post is addressed to everyone who lived through loss during the lockdown. To those who grieved quietly. To those who felt robbed of closure. To those who buried their loved ones in isolation.
Your pain was real. Your grief was valid. And your endurance mattered.
If you are still healing, know this: the absence of ritual did not diminish the value of your love. The silence of that time did not erase the life that was lived. And the distance imposed by quarantine did not separate souls bound by faith and memory.
Moving Forward, Carrying the Lessons
As we look back, may we never forget the lessons of that season:
- That life is fragile
- That community matters
- That compassion must extend beyond rules and systems
- And that faith often grows strongest in isolation
October 20, 2020, stands as a reminder—not only of loss, but of resilience. A reminder that even when the world shuts down, the human spirit, sustained by faith and hope, continues to rise.
This message is addressed to all who endured that season.
You survived a moment in history that changed us all.
And in surviving, you carry a story worth remembering.
