Price of dying, cost of goodbye

In Laoag City, Ruby Undang has spent 38 years of his life preparing the dead for their final viewing. At 56, the embalmer knows the procedures by heart, yet sometimes he still feels frightened when he touches a cold body.

Before beginning his work, he talks to the deceased, explaining what he is about to do, and prays. His task, he knows, is not merely to preserve a body but to help families see their loved ones looking peaceful one last time.

Some cases are harder than others. Accident victims with severe facial injuries can be difficult to prepare, and some families eventually choose to keep the coffin closed. Infants also require different preservation procedures because their bodies deteriorate faster.

After nearly four decades in the profession, Undang has decided that he would prefer cremation when his own time comes. His work is only one part of the cost of saying goodbye.

At Baquiran Funeral Homes, packages start at P35,000, with other options priced at P50,000 and P70,000. They cover the coffin, embalming, burial clothes, flowers and funeral services, but not the cemetery lot.

Some caskets for wealthier clients cost more than P500,000. For families living paycheck to paycheck, even the basic package can be overwhelming.

“If only I could offer it for free, I would,” a funeral home representative said, explaining that the business sometimes reduces charges to help struggling families, particularly those who have lost young children.

But compassion must coexist with operating costs. Employees need salaries, vehicles require fuel, and embalming chemicals and other supplies must be purchased. Some families take months or even years to settle their bills.

The representative has also witnessed the pain that follows a death: young children losing parents, spouses left to raise families alone, and relatives asking forgiveness beside coffins when it is too late for an answer.

“You are no longer dealing with other people. You are dealing with yourself,” the representative said, recalling the death of a grandfather.

For Cesar Ibao, 46, death is another part of the working day. A gravekeeper for 10 years, he digs burial spaces and prepares the ground for the deceased.

He has also seen graves that families no longer visit or maintain. Ibao sometimes clears these spaces, hoping relatives will return.

In Laoag, cemetery spaces are rented for P2,500 for five years, he said, adding another expense for families already burdened by funeral costs.

As Undas approaches, cemeteries will fill with people bringing flowers, lighting candles and remembering those they have lost. Meanwhile, Undang will prepare another body, the funeral home will arrange another service, and Ibao will dig another grave.

Their jobs differ, but all three witness what death demands of the living.

The financial cost can be measured: tens of thousands of pesos for a funeral, potentially hundreds of thousands for an expensive coffin, and recurring payments for a burial space. Families may borrow money or sacrifice everyday necessities to afford a dignified farewell.

But grief has no price tag. No funeral package can account for a child growing up without a parent, a spouse learning to live alone or a family gathering around a table with someone missing.

The funeral ends, the bills are settled, and the graves grow quiet. For those left behind, however, saying goodbye is a task that never truly ends.