Dear Janice Lobo Sapigao 2021

Dear Janice Lobo Sapigao,

It feels right to preface this with the introduction of my own Lola. Halfway across the world, she is in Manila, moving homes with the rest of her children, or rather, my titos and titas. The last I had visited was around eight years ago. My fondest memories were finding ruby rosaries and sticky longan in the market. I was too young to appreciate the goodbye, but I did, nonetheless. I have since had the fear, the worry, that I will not get and permanently miss my chance to say goodbye before something happens.

When I first read, and heard, your piece, it deeply resonated with my thoughts with our culture, especially during the early stages of the pandemic and quarantine. It was, in a way, startling to recognize the cultural aspects you wrote about and how they could very much be used for the celebration of life. I was wondering if there would be advice in how to do justice in displaying one's culture in my own poetry and prose.

And the line, “There will be no party, no lumpia, no noodles for no life long enough?” It brought back many memories of whenever I attended a family outing with the rest of my relatives. There has always been the presence of pancit and noodles, especially birthdays. I was taught at a young age that noodles symbolized longevity, as I listened with a mouth full of barbeque and rice. However, I did attend a funeral once. It had been for one of my Titos. We had spent the first days praying in different houses with different families, where we shared our sorrow. Some days I think of the day before, as it was Halloween. He was not afraid, still having a smile on his face. I suppose I want to ask you this: how could we, as poets, find and instill courage in discussing and envisioning ourselves in topics like these?

When I read that the burial would be unmarked, I felt an urge for justice. How could someone who had been a bringer of life be unnoticed? I could very much feel the connection and love between your Lola and you, one that could span across oceans and land. The vivid imagery you created with unnamed earthquakes and stretched-out sunsets will be ones I will never forget. I hope that your Lola will rest in peace. I want to thank you for your poetry and performance; it really helped to find discover your perspective. I would love to hear from you sometime!

Sincerely,

From one Filipino to another,

Brian

Dear Janice Lobo Sapigao,

I have read a couple of your works for an imaginative writing class. I wanted to let you know that I love your poetry and have found myself being truly inspired by your writing style.

One of the poems I have read was called “There Will Be No Funeral”. A kind of unfamiliar grief welcomed me, and I found a new fear in the lines.

I want to thank you for opening my eyes to something I should not avoid. I have a lola in the Philippines, and although I have never met her, I’ve begun to feel even more anxious that I may never get to meet her. My family does not have the funds to visit my lola, and my relatives worry for her health scares every now and then. I pray I get to know her personally.

I have a couple things I am curious about as I am still trying to figure out if writing is something I should expand in my life. As a fellow human of filipino heritage, do you feel your background has made you a target of unfairness and harsh criticism? If so, how do you heal from those experiences? Do you believe in writing styles, and what is your take on how to find your very own? Do you think college is necessary or a helpful hand in terms of connections or creating a foundation for yourself?

Thank you very much for taking the time to read my letter. I adore your poetry and wish you all the best! Marami akong natutunan, salamat sayo.

Sincerely,

Shayanne

Dear Janice Lobo Sapigao,

My name is Kaylee, and I’m a Freshman in Highschool. I recently read your poem, “There will be no funeral”, and I was touched. Your poem just made me think of the things people have to overcome everyday. Whether it be a money problem or in the 2020 case, COVID. While reading the poem it did bring tears to my eyes.

I personally relate to the poem because last year I lost my grandpa, my childhood dog, and my great-grandmother. This past year has been miserable for everyone in different ways, and through your poem I saw that many people had dealt with the things I have. These three passed away pretty unexpectedly and it was very hard with my grandpa. I asked myself the same questions, “what am I going to do without him in my life”. I continuously asked myself all of these what if questions, because my family had the same struggles regarding money once he passed. It was all heart breaking, but looking back at it now there was nothing anyone could’ve done to prevent any of this. When you said; “there's no money No undertaker will proclaim her life...It's too expensive”. This specific part moved me deeply. I can connect with this personally because my family had the same problem, but there was nothing we could do about it.

In your poem, the emotion is just seeping through and it is moving. Anyone can feel the emotion through your words and how beautifully it is worded. I think it is important to share personal stories to let the reader know if they went or are going through a similar situation, they aren’t alone. That is what you have done with this poem, sending the message to the reader saying others have experienced this as well. When it said; “How will I carry her when only darkness has the space? Where will we put my grandma when we can’t afford our grief?”, during funerals most associate them with letting go of the person lost. But when we don’t have that we can’t associate anything with it. All of the stages of grief, denial, sadness, anger, confusion, etc. are thrown in the air and it can be difficult to handle. When we don’t have this closure the process of grief can be or is harder to deal with. Each person controls their own approach to conquering this sorrow. I would just like to tell you your poem helped me a lot and I think it can help many others in a similar situation.

On a brighter note, I do like to write poetry...sometimes. It is a way for me to express my emotions through writing. Writing my emotions makes me feel better about myself because I am letting it all out on a paper I can refer back to. In your poem anyone can feel the emotion seeping through the lines, I just thought that was outstanding. The way you describe the loss and grief is so personal, it could make anyone feel that. My poems can definitely be a hit or miss but that's what comes with writing.

Thank you for writing this beautiful poem. It was an honor to read and connect with it. It spoke to me in so many ways and I appreciate you for it. “There will be no funeral” told me it is okay to express emotions to the public because it is natural and others might feel the same way.

You are an amazing writer. You honored the memory of Concepcion Cruz Agullana and others so perfectly.

Sincerely,

Kaylee 

Dear Janice Lobo Sapigao,

Hello, my name is Sophia and I am a junior from Kansas City, Missouri. I read your poem “There Will Be No Funeral” in my English class and I was frankly a little taken aback by how much it resonated with me. The way you talk about your Lola feels so intimate it feels like I knew her just from reading your poem. The love you have for her is evident and as I read the poem I felt like I was mourning in my own way for a woman I never knew. I especially love the line “my lola, an unnamed earthquake” because I feel like the poem is gaining momentum with all the repetition before it and that line slows it down and the poem takes a breath. It takes a second to mourn the woman herself as well as the lack of a proper memorial.

Your grief for not only your Lola but also her funeral really hit home for me as I lost my own grandmother at the beginning of 2020 and haven’t been able to have a proper funeral for her because of the pandemic. It’s been tough especially on my mom because we haven’t gotten that sense of closure that comes with funerals. That’s why I love the parts of your poem that talk about all the aspects of a funeral that aren’t happening because it encapsulates that feeling of dejection so perfectly.

In the format of your poem you use a lot of excess spacing between the words to create emphasis but also in the poem as a whole. Personally, I interpreted this to mean that there was an excess of space as opposed to the lack of space for your Lola’s body but I was wondering if that was your intention?

I want to thank you for writing this poem. It is beautiful and it made me feel understood and validated knowing someone else has experienced something similar.

Sincerely,

Sophia
 

Dear Janice Lobo Sapigao,

“There Will Be No Funeral” was relatable to me and the passing death of my grandmother in 2016. I wish I could relate to the Filipino aspects of your life, but that is something I was never taught. I am 5/8ths Ilocano, but my father figure was not a part of my life to teach me these traditions and foods that accompany certain occasions. I feel like half of my history is unknown. Your poem spoke to me and my aching to know my belonging of this race.

When my grandmother passed, she lived in a small two-bedroom apartment, and we did not know what we were going to do and how to find the money. Luckily, my grandma was a familiar person to the whole town; we were privileged to host her a funeral and services. I could feel the panic/ devastation in your voice in the line “No one will hear her long name how it/ stretches a sunset…” My remembrance is something I too worry about; being alive then dead suddenly and no one knowing my trace and forgetting about the life I lived. But then, I think of my grandmother every day and start to remember her impact on my life, even if I didn’t speak to her daily.

I noticed how you say ‘every body’ with a space in between the words. I am guessing you are using it as a term for dead bodies or humans, and not so much of saying everybody as in their own persons and spiritual being but their physical bodies. It stood out to me because it separates physicality with spirituality and reminds the readers of what happens when we leave our bodies and where our conscious might go. “When airlines carry the deceased/ they are called passengers…/ passengers in seats are called existing passengers.”  I read this line and thought that it was materialistic and again furthering the distinction between bodies and spirits. I enjoyed reading your poem and relating to them in a way that made me think about my life spiritually. Thank you for writing your poem and letting us read your emotions, deepest connections, and concerns of your late grandmother.

Sincerely,

Alliyah

Dear Janice,

Hi, my name is Kaya and I am a student at John F. Kennedy High School. I had the pleasure of both reading and studying your poem, “There will be no funeral” in my Freshman seminar. I would love to share my thoughts on your poem.

In reading your poem, It really resonated with me because I feel that you are giving a description to the way many people are feeling today. Today, people across the world are suffering as a result of a global pandemic. The worldwide quarantine has kept people in their homes and separated from their loved ones for over a year. During this time, many people have lost their grandparents, who were very vulnerable to the disease. Another challenge during this time, is the closure of businesses who could not afford to remain open while the world shut down. This caused many people to lose their jobs, causing additional pain and financial struggle.

I feel that your poem brings to life the feeling many of us and feeling at this time. When you talk about “there’s no money” and that “there will be no casket it’s too expensive” it connects to the struggles people are facing. In the last line you write that you “can’t afford our grief.” This was a beautiful way to express your emotions and conflict in a way that people are able to relate to. Funerals often help families to have closure when a loved one dies. But a huge part of that closure is the act of coming together, of sharing in a collective grief - we are in a time when this is not allowed - so many people have to bury a loved one without the rituals of mourners dressed in black, of priests saying prayers and of a shared meal. Your use of the repetition of the word “no” while discussing traditions illustrates how important each aspect of tradition is.

I would like to know if writing the poem helped you grieve and honor your grandmother? As i read the poem i felt the love you had for her and continue to have through the words and pauses of each line. In line 16, you described her as “an unnamed earthquake.” In those words were you describing her burial, her personality or maybe even both?

Overall, I believe that through your work you have brought a meaning to the unexplainable feelings many people are experiencing now more than ever. Through your words, your readers can see the love and grief you feel for “your Lola.” Thank you for sharing your poem, I speak for me and my peers when I say it had a big impact. I am sorry for your loss.

Sincerely,

Kaya

Dear Ms. Sapigao,

My name is Jackie and I am currently a high school freshman in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. My parents weren’t born here. My parents were born in Mexico, but live in America now. Ever since the early age of six, I’ve been translating all sorts of documents from English, to Spanish, ordering takeout food on my own, asking how to pay bills over the phone. This, of course, doesn’t bother me. What does bother me, is the fact that I’ve witnessed discrimination towards my parents from a really young age. At only five years old, I had the talk that my parents were at risk of getting sent back to Mexico because of their skin color. I was, and still am, to this day, traumatized and scared for what will come to the future of my family.

I can’t express myself like others can, Ms. Sapigao. Many of my classmates discuss their dreams when they’re off to college. I can’t discuss my plans because I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to go off to college. My parents don’t have that much money. They’re not very wealthy. Everything I have, including my education, comes from my sweat and tears.

Now, you may be thinking about how this may relate to your poem, “There Will Be No Funeral.” See, my paternal great grandmother Lola, and paternal great-aunt Chayo have passed away recently. My father never saw his grandmother again. His grandmother took care of him while his parents worked a low-paying job just to come back to be able to afford a bag of beans for his family of seven. When my father received that phone call that night, he absolutely broke down. He couldn’t do anything but cry.

My father never got to see his grandmother again since he left Mexico at the age of 17. He left behind his parents, uncles, aunts, grandparents, and even his four siblings that he hasn’t seen since he left either. He’s now 41. It absolutely shatters my heart.

Your quote from the poem, “There will be no casket...it’s too expensive.” Relates to a real-life situation that happened when mourning my great-aunt Chayo. My Tia Chayo was a cheerful lady. She was never afraid to die. She always said, “A mi la muerte me pela los dientes mija.” Which in English, translates to, “Death peels my teeth.” Which signifies the non-existent fear of dying.

Tia Chayo was an amazing woman. I’ve seen her once. It breaks my heart to think that the first time I saw her was to be my last. My family in Mexico wasn’t very wealthy, either. They sacrificed a lot of money to buy my Tia Chayo a casket. The thing that enrages me even more about my parents’ situation here in this cruel and corrupt country, is that my parents had to witness the funeral through Facebook Live. A Facebook Live. I’m so devastated and tired of seeing my parents suffer like this.

As we saw my family carrying the almost broken casket that they could barely afford, and singing Mariachi music as my abuelito, my fathers father, sang and played his guitar that he bought at a clearance section at the nearest store, with broken wood, and strings, with everyone walking to the community graveyard, my father’s tears rolled down his cheek as he couldn’t do anything but keep on staring at the static television with his family members hugging and crying behind the screen.

Your poem, Ms. Sapigao, was something I could relate to. Something I hadn’t felt while reading a poem in years. I really enjoyed the format of your poem as well. The fact that you italicized the words with importance and with a really empowering meaning made your poem really, really engaging to read. Not only this but there was one line that really stood out to me.

The line, “this small poem, the only eulogy where we’ll put my grandma her existence laid to rest in a poem,” made me love your poem even more. What I got from this beautiful line, was that money cannot buy everything. You may be put in a million-dollar worth casket, but still, have zero flowers decorating your grave. Although my family may not be able to afford an appropriate casket for Tia Chayo or Abuelita Lola, we still love them. Their voices and memories are engraved in our hearts.

Some questions that I have about the poem and about Lola, is what she was like. Was she a sweet, kind lady? Was she a stern woman? Did she live life to the fullest? How did you cope and try to get over this huge loss for you? I know people have many ways to cope.

As I was reading, I could tell you had a really close bond with Lola. It hurts to know she’s gone. While writing the poem, what came to mind? What experiences and memories did you have with Lola that motivated you to write this poem?

Reading your poem, “There Will Be No Funeral,” made me remember the memories I had with family that passed away. It made me feel special in the sense that someone could describe what I felt in words. Sometimes, what you’re trying to say is really, really difficult. Although writing gives you a sense of freedom. A sense to be able to write, create, and express your sentiments without anyone disturbing your thoughts. Writing is really beautiful. Especially expressing them in such a delicate and specific manner like your poem Ms. Sapigao.

Know that everything will be alright, and know that although Lola may not be present anymore, she will remain in your heart. Your writings.

Warm Regards,

Jackie