MY friend Reyna Emperatriz used to bewilder some of our pals. Whenever she would leave her condo unit, she would speak out and say, “Ser, alis muna ako ha.” Or when arriving home, she would go “Hello, Ser.” Even when we were out of town, she would say these greetings out loud upon entering or leaving her hotel room.

Ser happens to be her late significant other, or Kuya to the rest of us, their friends. We loved him deeply, like he was really our own older brother, in the same manner that he treated us almost like family. I eventually adopted the same habit whenever I’d visit the Reyna at her home. “Hi, Kuya!” I would say in my usual high-pitched voice, the same way I would screech at him when he was still with us. Or “Bye, Kuya!” when I’d finally take my leave. And when the Reyna would catch me at my worst maldita moments, she would “talk” to Kuya and playfully tell on me.

This custom of the Reyna seemed creepy to some, especially to those who have qualms about the otherworld, where only spirits are known to exist. One of our pals told me that it sounded like the Reyna was summoning her partner back from the dead. I couldn’t help but laugh at this comment.

I never thought of the Reyna’s behavior in those terms, maybe because I’m quite comfortable with the concept of our world existing on some parallel plane to those moving around in the spirit world. In fact, as per Catholic tradition, we’re taught that the spirits of our dead relatives and friends roam the earth for 40 days before finally ascending to heaven (or at least we assume that’s where they’re going). Of course, this custom was patterned from the Bible, as Jesus had supposedly shown himself to His apostles for 40 days after His resurrection, before His ascension.

I personally think some of our dearly departed stay around longer than that official 40-day period just to watch over those of us who need more guidance, or perhaps the most help in overcoming our personal grief for the immense loss we feel with their passing.

Then there are some people who, for instance, report “feeling the presence” of their dead family members even years after they’re gone. A family friend, Gertrude, once told me that whenever she and her siblings would talk about interring their father’s ashes in a crypt, his urn would shake. Whenever this happens, she would again promise her dad out loud that she will continue to keep his remains at home. Spooky much?

Those who don’t actually feel their loved ones present, however, make do by having one-sided conversations with them.

In a recent episode of House M.D., Dr. Gregory House is staying in his friend and colleague Dr. James Wilson’s spare bedroom bedecked by reminders of the latter’s dead spouse, Dr. Amber Volakis (a.k.a. “Cutthroat Bitch”). House dubs it a “shrine” because the room is full of Amber’s photos and other mementos. While trying to sleep, House starts hearing faint whisperings in the dark, which, of course, induces the viewers to believe that Amber is haunting him. House assumes that he’s hallucinating again, although he’s already been clean of vicodin.

But after investigating the source of the late-night whispers, House discovers that it is Wilson who has been whispering while in bed, the latter’s voice filtering through an open vent. He has been “talking” to his late wife, telling her what happened to him during the day or updating her of House’s new antics at the hospital. Confronted by House the next morning, Wilson admits that he speaks to his dead wife in this manner because “it makes me feel better.”

And there’s nothing wrong with that. Talking to dead people doesn’t mean we’re losing our minds—unless, of course, they start babbling back to you. It’s just one of the ways we cope, confront our grief and try to go on living. It is a manner by which we, having survived the death of a loved one, try to not feel lonely. Our own whisperings to them somehow makes us feel they’re still around. I mean, if we can pray/talk to God even if we don’t see Him, surely we can do the same with our departed ones, right?

I talk to the dead when I’m stressed, for instance. When I’m late for an appointment, I sometimes catch myself muttering under my breath, pleading/imploring/begging my Pop to send me a cab real quick. Most of the time, it works. I don’t know, it could be coincidence or just plain dumb luck that an empty cab does come along. (Or something supernatural at work. Awwooooo.)

When I had family troubles, I went to my brother’s grave and, after praying for him, started telling him about the issues in my life. Making sumbong to him somehow eased whatever emotional pain I was undergoing then.

As the Catholic world moves into the weekend to honor our departed loved ones on All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day, I’m sure many of us will be talking with them again, if not out loud, at least in our heads. We will reiterate how we’ve missed them, and how our lives have changed since they passed on. Hopefully, we can report some good news to them, and, if not, perhaps ask them for extra help to carry our heavy load. (Gertrude says she usually asks her dad to pray for her—instead of she praying to him—since he’s now closer to the Big Guy upstairs.)

For the families left behind, this is a time for our bonds to further deepen. As we share with one another our fond memories of our departed, let it not be a sad reckoning but a celebration of their awesome lives. May they continue to inspire us to live fruitfully, as well.

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AND for more celebrations...best wishes to Sen. Mar Roxas and Ms. Korina Sanchez as they embark on this new chapter in their life as a couple. May your union be blessed with many years of love, support and laughter. (Go to my blog for photos from Tuesday’s wedding.)