Celebrating my 15 years of blogging by adding a podcast entitled “Have Coffee with me”. Check it out at anchor.fm/momblogger, and also distributed at Spotify, Apple podcast, Google Podcast, Breaker, Pocket Cast, RadioPublic and more to follow.

Today, I celebrate 15 years of blogging, but 15 years ago there was nothing to celebrate. I was wallowing in a pit of unspeakable grief. On February 24, 2006, I launched aboutmyrecovery.com and I like to look back at what I wrote on my first post “I chose joy over sadness. It is said that grief is inevitable, but misery is optional. I realized that it did no good to sit in my misery pit. It did no good for the loss of my son to lead to the loss of two. What does do good is doing good. I decided to lead the second part of my life differently and better than I would have imagined …in the name of my son, Luijoe. I know that as I reach out to bereaved parents, the world is changed in some small way for the better, and then the actions taken become my living tribute to my son.  And then Luijoe is never entirely gone.”

Back in 2006, blogging was what I then called my new normal. From blogger, to @momblogger, and advocate, I have achieved my now normal, a budding coffee producer. So I call my podcast “Have Coffee with me” which you can download in many places.

So why a podcast? Social audio is the future, and I want to deliver content to wherever my audience is. Most importantly, archives on coping with a loss are buried in my earlier posts and it is best to highlight them. You can still read them at certain categories such as grief, recovery tips, and grief education. I am still new in podcasting, so I am bound to encounter technical problems and being more fluent in my recording.

How am I feeling 21 years after the death of my son? I still miss my beloved Luijoe. When I recall those poignant memories with my boy, I feel sad and tear. There is a huge difference, though. The sadness no longer steals the joy away. The awful pain and emptiness diminished over time, as I persisted in enjoying the memories of the moments spent together, not dwelling on the times which will never happen. That pain is giving me courage to focus on my purpose in life. To live a meaningful life as a mom blogger, a citizen advocate, and a budding coffee producer. And to be always touched by an angel. Luijoe is always in my heart and in my memories.

Oh yeah, someone (whose name is too painful to mention) once told me after lecturing me and two friends that we are too old to be activists, “Now you just stay home and blog and criticize…just to be popular”

Excuse me **** , I will stop you right there. I became a blogger because of Luijoe to give hope to mothers who lost a child . . I don’t need to be popular. I would rather have Luijoe back than be a blogger.

No one is too old to blog. We all have our reasons for blogging.

Anyway, sit back and relax as I bring topics that cover my past, present and future. Expect topics on grief recovery, parenting, media literacy and coffee. Season 1 will be about grief education and my stories that I posted early in my grief recovery.

Listen to my podcast:

Every man ought to be a macho macho man,
To live a life of freedom, machos make a stand,
Have their own life style and ideals,
Possess the strength and confidence, life’s a steal,
You can best believe that he’s a macho man
He’s a special person in anybody’s land.
(Village People – Macho Man)
gift of laughter
Dad dancing Village People “Macho Man” at a Christmas Party in the late seventies
It’s the booming laughter I remember the most. It’s a laughter that runs across the room that never failed to cheer me up. My father may have passed away 17 years ago today but his sense of humor, the laughter and the positive attitude remains alive in me.

My earliest memory of dad was his round belly that looked like a pillow stuffed under his polo-shirt. I was convinced that fathers also got pregnant just like mom. As I grew, a little older and a little wiser, I realized his paunch stayed the same way, and no baby would ever come out of it. That often puzzled me. I often laid my head on his soft paunch, but only just for a minute because dad would find it uncomfortable.

My sister , Myrna believes that dad’s legacy is his example of strength and perseverance to us, the seven children and eighteen grandchildren. I learned by watching him suffer from the ravages of Stroke, that I should never give up on life, and to hold on to every precious moment with my loved ones, fully aware that, like a candle’s flame, life can flicker out in an instant. His laughter just resonated . Enthusiastic, effervescent, so full of life!

Above all these, the best thing dad gave us is his legacy of true love and family devotion. Even though he is gone, that love and strength of character live on as we now pass these to my daughters, to our granddaughter’s’ children, and so forth down the generation line.

Listen to my podcast of this post

Today, I want to remember my Daddy old boy, round and pudgy, full of life, his voice confidently booming across a room, his loud laughter rising above a crowd. He may not have the body of a muscled macho man, but he lived the style, the ideals, the strength and confidence of a true-blue macho man.

gift of laughter

My dad has always been my role model. I may have been a late bloomer in citizen empowerment and community work, but Dad was always at the back of my mind all these years. I hope he is proud of his children, who in one way or another are following his lead. My Dad, Jose P Lardizabal, was our role model for community service and leadership. Dad was an accountant and a corporate man but he was very active in PICPA, Jaycees, Rotary (a Past District Governor), Caritas (Board President), Sacred Hospital and Southwestern Univ, St Martin de Porres (for special children), Enercon (chairman), Sinulog (Chairman), UP Cebu MBA, and many more.

Dad is a special person in anybody’s land. He is alive and well in my treasured box of memories. May Dad still be smiling down upon us from Heaven, happy about how our lives have turned out.

I miss you, dad.my father


I am such a sucker for keeping a memory box of my children’s art work , writings, anecdotes or their milestones since they were toddlers. I bought a treasure box for each of my children to hold all of these memories. One of my favorites are the childhood anecdotes that I kept in my memory journal. Children say the cutest things ever. I love reading some of these anecdotes, just to smile and remember the good old days. They speak the most innocent and precious words that either warm our hearts or make us laugh with delight and simply saying ““awww…”

I’m sure you have your own collection of cute kid’s talk. Now to spare my adult children from being teased, I will not mention names . Let me refer to them as my Young man, Cute kid and Adorable kid.

3-year-old cute kid
One time, while watching TV , commercial breaks filled the TV screen. For instance Tide Bar is compared to Brand X, and the same goes for shampoos . Cute kid kept bugging me Mom, buy that every time a commercial came out. I explained to her that commercials intend to persuade us to buy their products . They also claim it is superior when in fact it’s not . Cute kid mused and thought for a moment on my meek explanations.

Then her eyes brightened I have an idea. Let’s buy BRAND X instead.

4-year-old adorable kid

Miriam College Pre-school is known for its environmental consciousness. They are taught early on the segregation of biodegradable and non-biodegradable garbage. One afternoon, adorable kid played with her ball along the streets but the ball rolled to the drainage eventually gone forever. Noting her distraught face, I promised that I’d buy her another ball.

Her worried look touched me.

Mom, garbage that clogs the drainage can cause floods

I comforted her ““it’s okay, it’s just one ball. One ball won’t flood Manila.”

The following week, my girl played with the new ball I promised to buy her. Unfortunately, the ball rolled again to the drainage. She cried her heart out. I was wondering why she was inconsolable.

I hugged her ““It’s okay. I can buy another ball”

With tears pouring down her cheeks, ““Mom , two balls already fell to the drainage”. I continued to hug her ““That’s okay . It was an accident”.

Then she covered her face ““You don’t understand , mom. Manila will now get flooded because of me”

““Awww, no dear…” as I hugged her.

6-year-old Young Man

My family and I went up to the mountains for a vacation on my husband’s side. My son urged everyone to gather around the bonfire so we could talk. Sweet, I thought. As we huddled around the fire, he declared “let’s talk about love”.


3-year-old Cute kid

In the late 80’s women bangs are often puffed up with hair spray or fizz.
Cute kid watched me intently as I combed my bangs and finally setting it in place with a hair spray.
She looked triumphant with her impish grin.
That does it mom! No more cockroaches

Don’t you just love the funny things our children can come up with sometimes? Care to share them here?