RIP Sec. Robredo. May your good work inspire others to do more good. #SalamatSecJesse

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““They say love beyond the world cannot be separated by it. Death cannot kill what never dies.” ~ William Penn

I know it was bound to happen. Nobody wanted to lose hope until the wreckage was found.

When I tuned in to ANC news, the face of Sec Mar Roxas told it all. At 7:45 AM, the fuselage was found with unidentified bodies in it. Mar Roxas brought the bad news slowly. His voice was filled with emotion when he announced that at 8:15 AM, the body of Secretary Robredo was clearly identified.

It is a sad day. The Philippines lost a good man. As TJ Manotoc said it in Twitter “Rest In Peace Sec Robredo. May your work inspire a generation to continue to serve this country full of heart & integrity just like you did”

Sec Robredo reminds me so much of my beloved brother Ruben who died so young too.

Let me share an email I received a few minutes after:

I had been praying that he survived the crash, just like millions of Filipinos did. But this morning, we lost the one honest and competent government official that this administration had.

I have never shed a tear for any government official or politician, not even during Ninoy Aquino’s death. But this morning, I shed tears for Sec. Robredo. I grieve for the many good things he could have done for the Filipinos.

He was 54 years old. May his soul be at peace and go straight to Heaven. May his family find comfort in the thought that he was a contemporary Filipino ‘hero’.

John Silva in facebook says it well “There was a good and upright man called Jesse. There will be others. Instead of mourning too long, let’s figure out what we can do to carry on his good work. ”

The Robredo family lost a family man, a father and a husband and so with the families of the pilots (Captain Jessup Bahinting and Nepalese flight student Kshitiz Chand)

Condolences, feelings of sadness now flood twitter. Tweeps share their condolences and give thanks to Sec. Robredo with the hashtag #SalamatSecJesse

Living with ambiguous loss

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I was four months pregnant in 1985 with my eldest child when I heard the devastating news that my father suffered a serious stroke at the age of 55 years old. Being in Manila while dad was in Cebu, I didn’t know if he’d recover from the massive stroke. I took a leave from work and flew to Cebu, crying all the way to the airport. I thought dad was going to die anytime soon so I needed to be there.

Dad did recover but he was not the father I knew. He had a foul temper. The stroke left him with a speech impairment called aphasia. He had difficulty expressing himself or comprehending spoken words. Words he spewed out could not be understood. When he meant a thousand pesos, he’s blurt out “A million pesos”. The good news was he could understand written words.

Looking at my once active father reduced to a frail man depressed me. I felt my father died because his personality changed. When a loved one dies, we mourn our loss and learn to move on with our new life soon after the funeral. Rituals of letting go help us in coping with the loss. Tears are shared during the wake. A eulogy helps us treasure memories. There are the anniversary dates to celebrate in the coming years. In the normal process of loss through death, most of us are able to support a bereaved friend or family member and help them find closure over their loss.

Ambiguous loss

Ambiguous loss is defined as ” the uncertainty that occurs when people must deal with the unresolvable physical or mental absence of a family member. ” According to social scientist Pauline Boss , there are “two kinds of ambiguity according to Boss. One kind is where the body is missing, as in a plane crash, and the other kind is where the mind is gone, as in Alzheimer’s disease.”

My dad was not struck with mental illness . The serious stroke that left him with a speech disability and at times his mental faculties appeared to be gone at times. We all experienced a loss of the dad we once knew. My siblings and I were left to cope with learning how to live with a father “who is physically present, but psychologically and emotionally different”. The question that often lurked in my mind was “What social rituals exist to deal with this loss that is so real, yet so difficult to grasp?”

I saw for myself how the number of “friends” slowly drifted apart. Dad was just too difficult to understand. Perhaps they did not have the patience to understand him. The few remaining friends (bless them) were always around when dad called for a birthday celebration or a small party at home. One indeed knows their friends when we are at our lowest.

Our energies were now focused on understanding aphasia and learning how to teach my father on how to communicate with us through written words instead of verbal communication.

This ‘ambiguous loss’ I felt in witnessing my dad grapple with his speech was mainly the loss of dealing with his ability to speak and coping with the pain of how his friends slowly left him. Feelings of sadness, anger and uncertainty overwhelmed me. I hovered between the hope and hopelessness of dad’s situation. Dad was there but not really there.

I never knew how my father felt but one thing he taught us was that there is life after a speech disability. While we coped with our ambiguous loss, dad helped us deal with it by learning to live a new life. This life now revolved around his grandchildren and our bakeshop, activities he would be too busy to handle if he were still an active businessman.

Dad lived for 18 more years after he suffered a stroke.

Most of us may face “everyday life and catastrophic versions of ambiguity”. For instance, family members may be mentally absent because they are busy with their computer work or addicted with computer games. The unncertainty is ” the stress of not knowing if a member is in or out of the family.”

Where is Robredo?

Now I see it in the news. The family members are dealing with the uncertainty of Sec. Robredo’s whereabouts. There is a feeling of hope and hopelessness because there is no closure yet. The nature of the loss is such that there is no possibility of closure or completion. No body has been found. At this point, presence of friends is comforting. Prayers offer consolation not only for the family members but for those who loved him. After posting the prayers of tweeps in BlogWatch.tv, I can see how concerned the citizens are over the safety of Sec. Robredo and the two pilots. It is the third day and hope is dimming fast.

Today I can only offer prayers of hope and a miracle.

Butterfly Miracles

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My friend Cathy sent me this beautiful article , Butterfly Miracles, from Chicken Soup for the Soul: Grieving and Recovery by Jeanne Wilhelm. I know some of you who read my blog lost someone in their lives. I often use the butterfly as a symbol of hope . There is always a chance of a new life out there. This is what I often call the new normal, the life without our loved one. It takes time but life does move on to a new normal. These days you will catch me wear butterfly necklaces, butterfly earrings, butterfly on my dress or shirts.

To live in hearts we leave behind Is not to die.
~Thomas Campbell, “Hallowed Ground”

I rummaged through the small cardboard box that passed for my jewelry box. On a mission to get rid of anything unworn, I gasped as my hand touched the metal butterfly — no bigger than a half dollar. Clutching it to my aching chest, the tears streamed down my face as I remembered.

Vivid images of the day my eight-year-old son presented the butterfly pin he’d made for me — my Mother’s Day gift — rushed to mind. I could picture Mark, round face, straight blond hair, as he smiled up at me. “Here, Mom, I made this for you in art class. I painted a design on it, but they baked it and the paint all ran together. I think it turned out neat!”

I prepared myself to receive a gift of love more than beauty as I unfolded the paper wrapped by childish fingers. A witty, personable, and fun-loving child, Mark did not seem to possess artistic talent. The butterfly, to my surprise, emerged a masterpiece of swirling copper, blue and beige hues.

“It’s beautiful,” I said with complete honesty. He accepted my hug with eyes rolling, as I murmured, “Thank you, honey. I love it.” He beamed with pride. I wore the pin frequently for years, often receiving compliments on its artistry.

One day, the back fell from the butterfly as I rushed to pin it to my lapel. I dropped the butterfly into the box in my drawer as I hurried to my appointment. I’ll have it repaired later, I thought.

Life was filled with family, school and work. The butterfly rested, forgotten, in the bottom of the box for more than ten years.

This day, the full force of the painful loss pressed into my chest. Eighteen months earlier, as I cradled my husband in my arms, I felt half of me slip away as he died. Now, the rest of my heart had been ripped from my chest as my 22-year-old son died while I held his hand — helpless again to keep cancer from taking one I loved. Mark had fought the disease with great courage and confidence. In the end his body betrayed him when his spirit would have kept on fighting. The deep, painful cavity inside me screamed for relief.

How I’d longed for a part of Mark to keep near. His cap, his keychain — none of his possessions had provided comfort — only more pain. But this butterfly, a gift made by his loving hands, held the promise of his continued presence with me. His life changed, like the caterpillar to the butterfly. He was no longer bound by ill health and earthly trials. The butterfly reminded me of this truth. The miracle of this gift, rediscovered after so many years, soothed my grieving heart.

The butterfly, coupled with a gold cross and attached to a delicate gold chain (a gift from my daughter), traveled the journey through grief with me. I wore it constantly, even in the shower. Along the way, sometimes the telling of the story brought comfort to another traveler. It also held the promise of change and healing for me, but in some irrational way, I felt to take it off would be to forget Mark and stall the healing.

One night, about a year after his death, I, who almost never remember a dream, had a startling and memorable one. I found myself standing on my front porch looking for someone. I saw a young man in the distance and as he trudged nearer, I recognized Mark — tired, sick and dirty — but Mark without a doubt. Stunned, unable to move at first, I threw my arms around him as he came up onto the porch.

Holding tight, I cried, “Mark, oh Mark, it is so good to see you. You’re not dead. I thought you were dead and you’re not. Oh Mark, Mark, I love you son,” I babbled.

He pulled back from me and said, “Mom, I love you. I have to go now and you must let me go. You must let me go, Mom. You can’t keep hanging onto me. Let me go now.” With that, for just a second, he appeared healthy and vigorous — almost glowing — then vanished.

I woke up feeling his embrace and hearing his words echo in my mind. I clutched the butterfly as tears streamed down my face. I raced to the front door to look for him and saw only an empty street. I started to grasp it was only a dream, but a strange peace crept into my darkness.

As I pondered the dream, I realized that in order to heal, to move on, I had to let Mark go — not forget, but refuse to cling to what might have been. The butterfly became the symbol. I started by taking it off to shower, then to sleep. Little by little I accepted my son’s departure from my life, but never forgetting what we’d shared. The awful pain and emptiness declined as I persisted in enjoying the memories of the occasions we’d spent together — not dwelling on the times we’d never have.

As my journey continued, the butterfly reminded me of the new life that awaited me. But when would that lingering ache in my chest depart? Five years passed. I believed that as long as I lived, the ache would remain. After all, I’d shed tears with women who buried children 60 years before.

On a walk one day, as I mulled over this “fact,” a butterfly fluttered toward me as if heaven-sent. Healing in his wings, I thought. And suddenly the ache was gone, replaced by joy for Mark reveling in all the glories of heaven.

Do I miss him? Yes. Is there sadness or a tear now and then? Yes. But there is a difference. The sadness no longer steals the joy away. Now when I wear the butterfly it is a symbol of victory over death and a new life not just for Mark, but for me as well. Clearly, more than one butterfly miracle came my way.

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Healing of the Family Tree

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family tree

When I was new in my grief, many well meaning friends and relatives advised me this and that. I don’t know who among them suggested the “Healing of the Family Tree” and gave me a prayer. Each night, I was to say this prayer hoping in the belief that the curse of family deaths would end . (My 2 brothers, and a mother died before my son’s death in 2000) . As if we don’t all die.

A part of this prayer goes:

“Heavenly Father, I ask You now to go back though all in my bloodline, my husband’s/wife’s bloodline, and the bloodlines connected to all of my family and relatives and forgive the wrongs, heal the illnesses, bind the evil deeds. I ask You Lord to break the chains, associations and links any of these may have to us here in the present. On their behalf Lord, I seek Your forgiveness, your healing and a pouring out of your Divine Love so that Your Love may now pour forth through the years and touch us in the here and now. So that Your Divine and Healing Love will take the place of all the past hurts, angers, hates, unlove of You, destructive emotions or actions and evil ties of our ancestors. So that Your Precious Blood and Divine Love and Healing will heal us of the residue we carry from our ancestors. In true faith I thank You Lord because You have said ‘Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and the door shall be opened to you’. Today Lord I knock, I seek, I ask. All praise and thanks to You my loving Father.”

Now being newly bereaved and distraught, I went along with the idea that my ancestors were so sinful that all these deaths were brought about by their sinful ways…. Yes, it must be a curse, “malas” “karma” or “gaba” until one day, I just had it.

Praying the “Healing of the Family Tree” is the most depressing thing ever. In the first place, before my son died, we underwent a public healing of our family tree at Christ the King Church through our “Couples of Christ” group. We prayed that all the cancers, diabetes , hypertension would not continue on our present generation. Also, we prayed that early death will be spared further in our families.

I believe that our families have patterns of behavior that are passed on from generation to generation. This is especially true for those with genetic predisposition to suicide, alcoholism . Some of these patterns are not coincidences. We are also adversely affected by the sins of parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents, and by the sins of the ancestors who adversely affected them.

Don’t be mistaken, I believe in the Healing of the family tree. What I find truly objectionable in the prayer is guilt feelings that most newly bereaved feels whenever a priest tells them about the “Family Tree”. Also, the prayer is so repititious like all Catholic prayers. Imagine praying that everyday for the rest of your lives. There is no meaning . No substance. We have no control over the sins of our ancestors. We did not cause their sins. A bereaved mother thinks her great grandfather who was a priest might have been the root cause for her son’s death. Another bereaved mother attributes the death of her daughter because her marriage was not blessed in Church. Is God truly vengeful? Why are others spared? We cannot cure the sins of our ancestors but we can truly change ourselves.

We heal our family trees primarily by changing ourselves to be better persons, even much better than our ancestors could ever be. We heal our family trees by taking care of our health so our predisposition to certain genetic diseaes will be curtailed. We heal our family trees by receiving a new nature through total commitment to God . Secondly, we heal our family trees by repentance and healing. The change starts in us. Healing starts in us. It’s time to stop looking back at the past and move forward now.

Videos: Media interviews in honor of my son, Luijoe

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Luijoe is 19 years old today. I still cry , tear, smile as I recall the day of his birth. My handsome boy, oh what would have he looked like at 19 years old? Someone once told me that there is a software that can give a photo of what Luijoe might look like today. I heard it is really expensive.

It is a fleeting thought because all I can remember is my impish six year old boy Luijoe with a twinkle in his eyes. My thoughts linger now. He would have been in second year college. I bet he would drive me to places. Maybe he would have introduced me to his girl friend? Would he still be so attached to his mama?

Do you sometimes feel that you want to rewind and freeze a moment in time? When I look at his last birthday photos, I just want to hold on and savor that precious moment.

Every year , I celebrate the birthday of my beautiful boy to remind me that love never dies. The celebration of his life reminds me that there is a connection between us. Sure, the physical ties are now broken . In its place lies a spiritual connection that goes beyond the mortal world. I am thankful for the six short years. I would not be where I am today if I did not find the courage to start a new life. The single most powerful factor in starting my new normal has been the realization that death did not take all of my child.

During his last birthday in 1999, we celebrated it twice: at school and another at home . Such happy and poignant memories. (I wrote more about his last birthday celebration here) I know the time will come when we will be together in the house he promised to build for me. He used to point to this blue and white house as I drove him to school and say “I will build you a house like that”. I know this is not going to happen here in this mortal world. While I live, I will continue on the mission that my son has left for me to accomplish.

Today, I will prepare Fiesta Ham and some noodle dish. Then my husband and I will visit his resting place, and bring him some flowers. (I will update this towards the end of the day)

It’s been so long ago . I never realized that I now became a resource person for grief recovery. Here are some of the interviews that I managed to record since I blogged here.. 2008 was the year I had the most number of interviews .

November 8, 2008 in Mom Works

A Mom’s the Word Feature in Mom Works hosted by Maricel Laxa at the Lifestyle channel shown November 7, 8 and 9.

July 2008 – QTV Sweet Life on The Child’s Grief

May 2, 2008 – Proudly Filipina with Charlene Gonzales

April 26, 2008 at Kapuso Mo Jessica Soho

A tribute to my son

Through the years : ZsaZsa Padilla’s Eulogy for Dolphy

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What a beautiful tribute to the man she loved and who loved her as well. Zsa Zsa Padilla sang THROUGH THE YEARS during the Necrological Service for Dolphy – Comedy King at the Dolphy Theater of ABS-CBN yesterday. I recall in 1989 when Dolphy dropped Alma Moreno because of his love for Zsa Zsa Padilla. At that time, I also wondered in disbelief for his reasons. The public didn’t take the news kindly, that it prompted them to leave for the USA . For the next two and a half years, they lived in exile. The popular “John and Marsha” folded soon after . Without Dolphy, there is no John.

Through the years, Dolphy and Zsa Zsa Padilla proved that their love was real and strong. Despite the controversies surrounding the start of their relationship, Dolphy and Zsazsa Padilla stayed together for the past two decades and have two children, namely Nicole and Zia .He is 36 years older than her, and had relationships with different women before her, five of whom bore him his 18 children.

I got the following statement from Zsazsa Padilla facebook wall said .

“To Dolphy, thank you very much for being so proud of me; for giving me my two girls; for being so thoughtful; and for doing your best to provide for us. Kung mayroon siyang kapintasan, ‘yun ang pagiging sobra niyang mapagbigay. Mahirap magsabi sa kanya na may gusto kang bagay kasi kung mahal ka nya, gagawin nya ang lahat para maibigay nya sa ‘yo,”

What she and Dolphy went through was not easy.

“In loving the man I came to accept… Hindi po naging madali lahat ng yun. Pero he was worth it,” she said.

“Hindi ko na kailangan balikan ang nakaraan. Saksi kayo sa lalim ng pagmamahal na binigay ni Dolphy sa akin. At napatunayan niya nga sa loob ng 23 years kung gaano kalalim at katatag ang aming love story,” she added.

She said the family got closer when Dolphy was diagnosed with Stage 4 chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) two years ago.

“Naramdaman ko na talagang isang tunay kaming pamilya. Posible naman pala na kahit ang mga anak ni Dolphy ay nanggaling sa ibang nanay ay pwede naman kami magkaisa,” Padilla said.

Padilla also thanked television networks ABS-CBN and TV5 for supporting Dolphy’s career.

She said TV5 renewed Dolphy’s contract and continued to give his salary “despite knowing that he could never tape again.”

She thanked ABS-CBN for taking care of Dolphy’s legacy and preserving his body of work “for generations of Filipinos to enjoy in perpetuity.

“I know that this service will make Dolphy so happy dahil mula pa sa panahon ni Kapitan Geny Lopez, si Dolphy sa buhay, kamatayan at sa langit ay isang tunay na Kapamilya.”

I can’t remember when you weren’t there / When I didn’t care for anyone but you / I swear, we’ve been through everything there is / Can’t imagine anything we’ve missed / Can’t imagine anything the two of us won’t do / Through the years, you’ve never let me down / You’ve turned my life around / The sweetest days I found, I found with you / Through the years, I’ve never been afraid / I love the life we’ve made / Im so glad I stayed right here with you / Through the years

After the song, Padilla broke down in tears when she said: “Kagaya ng huling ibinulong mo sa akin bago ka mamaalam, lovey ko, I love you.”

Here are the lyrics of Through the years:

I can’t remember when you weren’t there
When I didn’t care for anyone but you
I swear we’ve been through everything there is
Can’t imagine anything we’ve missed
Can’t imagine anything the two of us can’t do

Through the years, you’ve never let me down
You turned my life around, the sweetest days I’ve found
I’ve found with you … Through the years
I’ve never been afraid, I’ve loved the life we’ve made
And I’m so glad I’ve stayed, right here with you
Through the years

I can’t remember what I used to do
Who I trusted, who I listened to before
I swear you taught me everything I know
Can’t imagine needing someone so
But through the years it seems to me
I need you more and more

Through the years, through all the good and bad
I KNOW how much we had, I’ve always been so glad
To be with you … Through the years
It’s better every day, you’ve kissed my tears away
As long as it’s okay, I’ll stay with you
Through the years

Through the years, when everything went wrong
Together we were strong, I know that I belong
Right here with you … Through the years
I never had a doubt, we’d always work things out
I’ve learned what life’s about, by loving you
Through the years

Through the years, you’ve never let me down
You’ve turned my life around, the sweetest days I’ve found
I’ve found with you … Through the years
It’s better every day, you’ve kissed my tears away
As long as it’s okay, I’ll stay with you
Through the years…

#RIPDolphy and learning about grief from the tweets of @ilovejamich

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Filipinos are mourning the loss of the Comedy King, the artist that made them laugh and lightened the day. My friend Samira says it so well ” Comedy brings us together. For an hour or so, we are transported into a make-believe zone where our everyday life is made fun about. We can actually laugh at ourselves and draw lessons from them.” Dolphy was so much a part of Filipino families for decades. When news of his death came out, no one wanted to believe it right away since it was not announced by a family member in social media.

Words of sympathy, feelings of loss were soon tweeted. One that caught the ire of the tweeps came from @ILoveJamich

Kasabay ng monthsary namin ay pumanaw na ang hari ng komedya 🙁 RIP Dolphy #Legendary #KingOfComedy

I didn’t know who Jamich was until I was told they were a youtube sensation. Clueless me didn’t know they won the #TattAwards and to think I was there that night.

Most of the reactions were anger towards their insensitivity. Their fans think there was nothing wrong with their tweet.

As an advocate on grief education, the tweet was insensitive to those mourning the loss. That single tweet felt like they were taking the solemnity and grief over the death of the Comedy king lightly. It felt like it trivialized the grief of others. The monthsary really had no place in that one tweet.

In times like these, words of comfort are all that will make it right. If there are no words, just “I am sorry” with a virtual “hug” will do. Perhaps @IloveJamich did not mean to hurt but they also need to understand why it didn’t come across well. Declaring monthsary and condolences in one tweet is just not appropriate.

Calling them out is the best way to make them understand not to do it again. Considering their fame, more attention is given to their tweets. We all learn from this not just @ILoveJamich

Why was their tweet insensitive?

In most of my meetings with the bereaved at the Compassionate Friends, a common complaint is the insensitivity of concerned friends or relatives. Of course, we know the depth of concern they have towards us but in their enthusiasm, they blurt out the most insensitive remarks.

Fans of Dolphy are also in grief and feel the same concern as the family.

It is understandable that the newly bereaved and even Dolphy fans are very sensitive to these remarks. Instead of bringing relief, those words just seem to add to the hurt and the grief. There are no words that will make it all right that someone we loved has died. But there are ways that can soothe the hurt, ease the loneliness and add to the healing.

Some think it is an over reaction

True, some tweets could be an over reaction but the grieving process is not the same for all. Just like each of us have a unique thumb print, each person grieve differently. So while some did not think nothing wrong of @IloveJamich tweet, others found it insensitive. Looking at the tweets, majority found @ILoveJamich tweets offensive.

Some ways to comfort the bereaved

Though this remark was in Twitter, it pays to know some ways to comfort. You can also check Words to comfort and compiled at The Compassionate Friends

1. DO feel free to touch , to hug and cry with them if these expressions are appropriate to your relationship. Tell them that you care about their pain and that you are sorry their loved one died. Avoid using I know how you feel, it’s God’s plan or God needed another angel. A simple hug can say more than a thousand words.

In social media, one can do it via a virtual hug or touch.

2. DO allow the grieving friend or relative to express their feelings, if they express that need. The pain involved in letting go, the anger, frustration and guilt are all a part of the normal grieving process, leaving them empty and without purpose for a long time. Allow them to tell you how they feel. Don’t tell them how you think they should feel. They just need you to listen. You aren’t expected to be able to take away the hurt or to have all the answers. Be careful of clichés, religious platitudes, or easy answers.

While some thought @IloveJamich was insensitive, the reaction of anger is part of the grief.

3. DO show your concern. Be there over the months on a regular basis. Allow them to tell you how they feel, and listen when they tell you. If you know a certain time of day is particularly difficult, do try to plan your visits to coincide with that time.

While this can’t be done on Twitter, it is alright to say that your thoughts are with the family and those fans who grieve along. One should not minimize the loss even if you don’t feel the same intensity of grief.

4. DO mention their loved one by name. It is comforting for the bereaved to know that others remember their loved one, too. Some people avoid mentioning the loved one’s name for fear it will trigger them of their loss. If tears come, then they needed to cry, and the tears may be tears of gratitude that you have given them the opportunity to share their loved one with you. If you have a good memory of their loved one, do share it. It will make their day and gives so much comfort.

That is why tributes are well accepted. It is comforting. So instead of saying the monthsary fell on the same date, one could just deliver a good anecdote to commemorate the Comedy King.

5. DO know that it is difficult for the newly bereaved to reach out to you for help. When you offer help, be specific. For example, you want to take them out for a ride, set a time and date. Make the effort to call, to come by, to help them out six months and even a year down the road. Crowds may be difficult for them. Shopping and holidays will be overwhelming. Offer your help.

If you are close to Mang Dolphy, any help is comforting as long as it is specific and not a general statement.

(For more information on how to help , here are some articles I’ve compiled on Helping Bereaved Family members.)

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Here are the reactions from Twitter:

Photo via thankfulfor.wordpress.com

Good-bye Mang Dolphy, the Comedy King

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““They say love beyond the world cannot be separated by it. Death cannot kill what never dies.” ~ William Penn

I grew up with the Puruntong-Jones family in my teens, laughing my head off during the darkest years of Martial Law. A few minutes of laughter can really lift one’s mood. Though just a teen, I was very much aware of the political condition but I refused to dampen my spirits. From Mang John Puruntong, Kevin Kosme, Pacifica Palayfay , watching comedy shows was a diversion from my troubled thoughts. Laughter does help relieve stress. I carry laughter with me wherever I go.

Tonight, the sad news of a man who brought laughter into our household passed away at 8:34 PM. The Comedy King Dolphy died at the age of 83. I knew Dolphy suffered pneumonia for last couple of months. No matter how much one is prepared for the death of a loved one, it still hits hard. The pain that comes along with the grief starts crushing to the core is just excruciating.

My condolences to the Quizon family.

There are just no words of comfort to console you right now but the Filipino people who have been warmed by his comedy are grieving with you. We pray the love of God enfolds you during your difficult times and helps you heal with the passage of time.

The time will come when the pain will not be so bad that his memory will once again bring a smile to your lips. What we have once enjoyed deeply we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us. And you should always know, wherever you may go, no matter where you are, Mang Dolphy will never be far away.

As I always say over and over again, my loved ones are always in my heart. They are alive in my heart and my memories.

““To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.” ~Thomas Campbell

May the peace which comes from the memories of love shared, comfort you now and in the days ahead.

Photo via Inquirer

Dedma or Dead Malice

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I had a falling out with two friends a year ago. It doesn’t matter who they are. It started because I felt the need to confront them about their accusations on a certain issue
. But no, they refused confrontation and eventually distanced themselves from me.

I grew up in an environment where direct communication is important. I feel safe around direct, honest people. They speak their minds, and we know where we stand with them. The problem with non-confrontational people are they want us to speak in circles before getting to the point. Perhaps, I am not an acrobat of words but going straight to the point comes out rude and disrespectful to them.

Just recently, I met up with these friends. Funny how time heal wounds. Perhaps because I busied myself with pertinent matters instead of delving in those issues. Perhaps because I stopped gossip from entering my life. We talked animatedly as if nothing happened. Dedma? I think so.

Dedma is the attenuated form of the English words dead malice. Dead malice, in turn, is the literal translation of the Tagalog expression, patay malisya. It is conjugated thus: dedma, dinedma, dededmahin.

Source: Dedma 101

For the sake of diplomatic relations , I practice dedma. Is it being a hypocrite? Let’s look at the definition of dedma

1) To completely ignore/feign ignorance of the existence/presence of someone/something.
2) To snub, reject, or toss in the trash.
3) To pretend deafness or blindness in order to escape a sticky situation.

Definition 1 is more appropriate to my case. There are occasions when the best way to deal with a problem is to pretend it doesn’t exist. On such occasions the practical thing is to practice the art of dedma. I believe it is an effective tool when one wants to preserve family peace. I’ve always believed that we can’t change people, places and our past but we can change our attitude. My attitude is to acknowledge that they will refuse confrontation or discussion but I will just learn to live with it.

Just the same, it helps if people are a bit more direct. Indirect people , people who are afraid to say who they are, what they want, and what they’re feeling cannot really be trusted. We don’t know what’s ticking in their minds. They will somehow act out their truth even though they do not speak it. It may catch us all by surprise. Directness saves time and energy. It lets go of martyrdom and silly mind games. It creates respectful relationships.

It feels safe to be around direct honest people. But if not, practice dedma.

What about you? Did the art of dedma ever help you in a sticky situation?

Grief gives back

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It has been a while. In my dreams, I wept that it woke me up still in tears. I forgot my dream now but I remember Luijoe, my beloved son was in it. Then it occurred to me, today is his 12th Angel year. It has been 12 long years. Imagine, I lived through those years. When my grief was so fresh, the wound was so deep , my heart so broken , I felt I fell into the deepest virtual pit in my mind.

It took me nearly five years before I emerged from that deep dark, cold pit . But now, when something triggers the memory of my son enough to make me cry, I find it comforting. It tells me that time is a measureless dimension in which my son and I are always part of each other.

Indeed, death took away my beloved son. That’s all there is to it. But grief gives back. Looking back at the past 12 years , I was not simply eroded by pain. I became more attuned to my emotions.. more aware, more compassionate, and more able to help others.

Grief is powerful alchemy. It plunges us into sorrow and forces us to face the finiteness of life, the mightiness of death, and the meaning of our existence on this earth. It does more than enable us to change; it demands it.

The way we change is up to you, and it is possible to be forever bowed by grief. But it is also possible to be enlarged, to find new direction, and to allow the memory of the beloved person we have lost to live on within us, not as a monument to misery but as a source of strength, love, and inspiration. By acting on our grief, we can eventually find ourselves a place of peace and purposefulness.

It is my belief that all grievers, no matter how intense their pain, no matter how rough the terrain across which they must travel…can eventually find that place within their hearts.

Today, I am very much aware Luijoe lives in my heart

Our souls entwined

communicating everyday.

Everything I had with Luijoe when he was alive still lives in me. He lives in every word and action I do for the rest of my life.