A highly rated and popular TV magazine contacted my husband and I to share our painful experience and grief recovery for their “Holy Week” feature. The theme centered on “The Seven Last Words” and our story will focus on one of those last words. You all know how we want to help others who are still struggling with their pain on the loss of their child so they may find hope. Much as I shun appearing on TV and doing interviews, I do it if it will help others. Now the problem with this show was that they wanted to do an reenactment.

My children immediately yelled “NO!” “We don’t want any crappy actors to play us…ugh..ugh . ewww…”

Of course, we didn’t want to go back in time and re-enact how Luijoe drowned…or how I nearly separated from my husband or how our family turned into shambles during the darkest time of our grief.

How does one reconcile our mission with our privacy?

I asked the production assistant “is the re-enactment really necessary? We have photos of Luijoe’s last day at the beach…. that should be enough to bring out the pain of losing our child”

He replied that “actors will play your part”

That’s just it, our story in itself is already filled with so much pain. It doesn’t need to be dramatized or sensationalized. The public viewers are not stupid. Really.

Simply put, we rejected the reenactment. Perhaps they found other families that were willing to subject themselves to the reenactment. With or without the TV interview and reenactment, one of Jesus’ Seven Last Words ring true to my heart.

You see, the Holy Week is one of the most memorable week of the year. Being a “cafeteria Catholic” my religious faith was at best mediocre. Luijoe, my innocent and religious 6 year old son often chastised me for not praying hard enough . I felt like a terrible mother who led a ho-hum religious existence. Gosh, we learn so much from our children , don’t we? It is the Holy Week which reminds me of my son. The image of the dying Jesus when he blurted out ” “Woman, behold thy son… Behold thy mother” struck a chord in my son’s heart.

Every night, Luijoe pointed to that image asking me over and over again what it meant. He pointed to John the Beloved “Who is he? How is he related to the Mother of Jesus?” Strange he asked about John. I cuddled Luijoe in my arms and explained that the dying Jesus wanted John the Beloved to take care of his grieving mother. How was I to know that my own son would die the following weeks? During the funeral, I remember those last words and took it literally to mean that my family or my friends would take care of me in my bereavement, that there would be “John the Beloved” who will help me.

When a death as devastating as the loss of a child hits you, one tries to find meaning. One tries to make sense out of it. The time came when I realized that those last words were not about me. It was about me helping those who are in pain , because the grief journey is not easy. My son made sure that I would not be alone in this journey as long as I continue to help others. He made sure I remember to be the “John the Beloved” and be compassionate to other people’s pain.

from mabutingbalita.net:

He who was nailed to the cross, wanted to spare His mother further pain—- not only for that moment, but for her entire future. He put her in the care of the apostle whom “He loved” and whom He knew would care for her in return. Even as Jesus was dying, He went beyond himself to addresses someone else’s need.

The Seven Last Words remind me of my son who died so young yet I know he continues to live in me through my work, my actions and devotion. Luijoe is with me everyday.

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