Mourning under lockdown

There is never a good time to die, and every demise is always “untimely.”

But even more so when death happens in the midst of the COVID-19-triggered lockdown.

My aunt, 91, single, and cared for all these years mostly by my 60-year-old sister and an older brother recuperating from a recent triple heart bypass, passed peacefully on April 2, untouched by the pandemic that raged around her.

We had thought there was time to whisk her off to the nearest hospital, but with rising panic we realized this was not a good time for an emergency. How does one even call for an ambulance for a non-COVID but still urgent case, with hospital emergency rooms all but overwhelmed by crisis cases?

Funeral arrangements

A doctor friend on hospital duty helped out and guided my brother on what to check for, helping us come to terms with the reality that nothing would bring her back.

The situation then moved swiftly to funeral arrangements—from transporting the body for cremation to setting up a wake, the last rites and inurnment. Under normal circumstances, there would have been time to comfort each other, but the times have made it a luxury.

My aunt had a pre-need memorial plan, so I figured it wouldn’t be too difficult to navigate. I made the call and the voice at the end of the line shifted from sympathy and courtesy to a touch of curtness as he asked more questions. “So, she expired at home. Not in the hospital? What did the doctor say? Ma’am, we can’t just get the body,” he said.

I learned that there are newly imposed Department of Health protocols for death care companies — certificates from the barangay and the city health office had to accompany the remains, indicating that the deceased was non-COVID, nor a person under monitoring (PUM) or investigation (PUI), before the process of handling the body could begin. No vigils allowed in residences or outside chapels or funeral homes. And only for two days, with limited viewing hours in the morning and afternoon.

Empty chapel

It was late afternoon when my aunt was finally brought to the funeral home and attended to in a large but sadly empty chapel, because none of us could visit and stay. My husband and daughter visited the next day for a few minutes to check on the setting and order flowers. They were stopped at checkpoints between cities and had to present copies of the death certificate and funeral parlor receipt.

Looking for a crematorium to handle the body was the next stage. I found myself subjected to the same “investigation”—what was the cause of death? Do you have certificates to prove she was non-Covid, non-PUI, non-PUM? Do you have a signed death certificate?

There was a “surge” in the price of cremation, as much as 30 percent, I would find out later, when we managed to convince the funeral director about the non-COVID cause of death and was given this much discount. The staff at one crematorium was even charging a deposit on top of actual cost which, she said, they would refund after the lockdown.

Difficult circumstances

My family did the best we could to give Auntie Baby the best send off under the difficult circumstances of this pandemic. We could not come together for a Mass, nor give her a traditional burial because cemeteries are also under on lockdown, and only the casket-bearing hearse is allowed beyond the gates.

A priest came to bless her casket while it was in the hearse. No need to bring it out; it had to be quick.I feel for so many others who had lost loved ones too, but unlike me, had lost them to COVID-19. And I realize that ours was but a small measure — of their grief, frustration and pain.