“Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” George Bernard Shaw

social media week
I caught the George Bernard Shaw quote a few days ago and it made me reflect back on my life. It is almost 16 years that my son passed away.

I do not recognize myself from the person I was in the past. I am more confident. I appreciate myself more. I have a new life, helping bereaved parents through the Compassionate friends , blogging and advocating social change for social good.  I am having the time of my life and feeling beautiful, loved and being loving.

I was a full time mother from 1987 till 2005 where I stayed home most of the time. Though I am proud to be a mom, I knew I was more than just a mother after finding myself in an empty nest. The desire to do more started when the kids went to college. There was this inner desire to provide public service like my father did.

In losing my son, I was meant to bring out my service oriented nature to other bereaved parents and the nation. Not that it had to take a death to push me there. I had to seek the meaning of life, and why I outlived my son. It brought my dormant talents of organizing and initiating service oriented projects (filipinaimages.com, blogwatch.ph, compassionatefriends.info, Philippine Blog Awards)

me and Te Amo Floristeria

I did not find myself. I had to go beyond my comfort zone, innovating myself, doing things that were not the old me.

Writing is not one of my talents. I had to learn to write creatively for the blog. I promoted my grief recovery blog not knowing that this was the start of my NEW NORMAL. I am now in online publishing and using this to bring awareness to my advocacy. Aside from grief recovery, I embarked into citizen media for voters education , and as a features editor for Philippine Online Chronicles. Me, an editor? From a homemaker , I am now thrust to a whole new world of media. Never in my wildest dream did I imagine I would be on TV, newspaper, radio, magazine as a resource person for grief, then later in blogging. Blogging gave me new friends, reconnected with old friendships, brought me to travel places. It taught me to be more confident.

I am happier. My son’s life ended too soon but I had to experience this pain and learn to go out of my comfort zone and reach out to others. That is the meaning of life I had to discover for myself.

It took me a long time to realize that grief is inevitable and that misery is optional.

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 through The Compassionate Friends”, 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.

Life is good.

digital marketing future of media

When you remember me, it means that you
have carried something of who I am with you,
that I have left some mark on who I am on who you are.
It means that you can summon me back to your mind
even though countless years and miles may stand between us.
It means that if we meet again, you will know me,
and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.
For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost.

~Frederick Buechner

Oh you’re not six years old anymore. I gushed over my boy. Luijoe, you’re so handsome! . I kept on hugging and kissing his sunburnt cheeks. Luijoe smiled and looked embarassed. Haha, maybe he didn’t want to be fussed over that much. After all he is now a young man not a little boy. Now I know how you look like as a 22 year old, I whispered to him, as I untangled the twisted knots from his long hair. Luijoe appeared again in my dreams. In my dream, we were back at our old house in Pasig, the house where he was born. I was aware that he died already so I wasn’t broken-hearted when I snapped out of lala-land. I felt so good to see him once again. It felt so real that I lingered in bed just savoring that poignant dream. This doesn’t happen often and I bet Luijoe appeared in my dream because it is July 13.
A few years ago, I pondered on how Luijoe looked like as a teenager. I always think of my son as forever “six years old” . I can’t help thinking of his looks since he is supposed to be twenty two years old today. Early this month, my husband dreamt of him as a tall, lanky and handsome boy almost his height at 5 feet 9 inches. I wished that I could also see him in my dreams. Even just in a dream. And true enough, last night my husband and I dreamt of him in different circumstances. Dreams and memories are all we have left of our beautiful son but that’s enough to get us by till we meet again.

luijoe is 22

Yes, it is July 13th but there is no birthday cake, no birthday presents, no birthday party and no birthday boy to celebrate his 22nd birthday with. Despite the limitations, we will celebrate Luijoe’s day with a simple home-cooked lunch of pasta and barbecue with my family. As always, I will light a candle in his memory table and visit his resting place to place some flowers. As I light a candle in Luijoe’s memory , I do so with gratitude that he lived and that we shared a life with so much love.

I will continue to keep Luijoe’s memory alive in my heart and in my mind since it is a very important part of who I am today. I want his memory to live on forever and for Luijoe to never be forgotten.

I take comfort knowing the fact that 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.

April 3 is the 16th death anniversary of my younger brother, Oscar. He died from a failed stem cell transplant. He was only 40 years old. Oscar was diagnosed with Acute myeloid leukemia (AML-M4) on September 1, 1996. Getting sick of leukemia is a logistical nightmare especially if one is looking for blood type AB donors.

A caricature of my brother in 1982 when he managed our bakeshop, Sally's Home Bake Shop

A caricature of my brother in 1982 when he managed our bakeshop, Sally’s Home Bake Shop

Our family worked diligently to support Oscar in his search for a cure, spanning hours and hours of research and inquiries through the internet and electronic mail. Research revealed that Oscar needed a stem cell transplant upon remission but unfortunately, he relapsed before we found a hospital within our budget. Cost of stem cell transplant ranged from 7 to 20 million pesos in 1998. The cheapest transplant was in Israel. To raise funds for his transplant, we put one of our properties for sale.

Fortunately, Oscar was eligible to participate in a Clinical trial at the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute (NHLBI) in Bethesda, Maryland. My sister’s friend who worked in that institute informed us of the clinical trial which was already in Phase 3. This phase is the second to the last step prior to making it a protocol among doctors. The stem cell transplant , medicines and hospitalization were free. Luck was also on our side because my sibling-doctor was an exact tissue match. The hospital required us to raise money for his board and lodging outside the hospital. Total budget for the 6 month stay was estimated to reach only 600 thousand pesos. Everything seemed perfect.

Oscar made the brave choice to undergo a stem cell transplant, knowing that there was a 50-50 chance he would survive, and that he had to take that risk. (View videotape of his reflections after the transplant )

The stem cells never had a chance to grow because of sepsis. After 6 months in NHLBI, the doctors sadly announced that he had to return to the Philippines. I guess the doctors decided they couldn’t do anything for him so they sent him home. Oscar, thin and black from the radiation treatment arrived on March 29, 1999. I held his frail hand and prayed quietly that God deliver him from his pain.

He smiled at me ” At least, we did not have to spend our inheritance to pay for my treatment

We talked until he was tired. Knowing his days were numbered, I slept beside him that night .

Oscar held on to the hope that there was a chance to recover . Inspite of his optimism, he prepared for his death. He videotaped instructions for his two sons on how to run his lechon business, deposited college funds , dictated his last will and testament and discussed other matters.

On April 3, 1999, Oscar suffered a brain hemorrhage and died a few hours later.

When a sibling dies, all future special occasions will be forever changed. There will be no more shared birthday celebrations, anniversaries, or holidays. There will be no telephone calls telling of the milestones of a nephew or niece. The sharing of life’s unique and special events will never again take place.

In tribute to the memory of my brother, I created a memorial site which includes midi files of his compositions and some photos and legacies. I can just hear him playing his award-winning musical piece, Pangarap ng Musmos which is now a church song. Oscar is having a blast playing the piano with my son, my mom, dad and Ruben, another brother in heaven.

valentine's day from my sonIt was sometime January 2004 as I was wheeled through the Operating room of the Philippine Heart Center for an angiogram procedure. Three doctors told me that my heart had blocked arteries and I will need an angioplasty. Two diagnostic tests revealed the necessity for an angioplasty. At that time, all I could think of was the expense, something like 500,000 pesos ($10,000). As I hovered between sleepy state and consciousness , I remember thinking that it was alright to die. I would soon be rejoined by my son. No big deal. As I lay there on the operating table, my cardiac surgeon motioned me to watch the procedure on the TV screen. The sight of my beating heart made me queasy . A few minutes later, the surgeon announced “There is no blockage”

I sought for my sister, a doctor who watched the procedure. She confirmed that I didn’t need angioplasty.

I found out that I had a “spastic heart” which didn’t require an angioplasty. My grief during the past 4 years took a toll on my heart.

In the recovery room over 11 years ago, I mulled over the death of my son . Life did go on even if my heart was broken. I didn’t know how physically broken it was. Our heart is fragile even if the heart muscles are strong. It goes on beating even during the darkest hours . When devastation made its mark , it felt like my heart would never know joy again. The diagnosis awakened something in me. God had given me another chance in life, perhaps to help others or continue to give love to others. One thing I knew for certain, that day marked my road towards a healthier grief journey. I discovered that the heart mends itself, but not like before. There is a scar in my heart which will always remain there. There is a tender spot inside where once the gap was wide. It is healing.

I am grateful that my heart is healing . I am grateful to be alive to give love and receive love.

Happy Love Day to all.
—–

My precious Valentine’s Day Memory. Though death has taken you away from me, my son, my love for you will never die. Love never dies.
happy valentine

“To love and to be loved by you, our child,…an honor and so blest,
Our time on earth cut short, it’s true … But We Sealed It With a Kiss.”

Coy-with-Globe-2010
With Coy at the Celebrating the Lucky 0917 with Globe in 2010. Photo credit: Jane Uymatiao

Oh God. No. He is way too young…he is just as old as my eldest girl. Another fine young man gone too soon. It breaks my heart. There are no words to express this gut-wrenching pain. I reach out to his family because the death of any child, regardless of cause or age, is overwhelming to parents, who can never be fully prepared for their child to die before them. The death of a child is the most devastating loss ever.

#ThankYouCoy

As I scroll through his timeline on Facebook and Twitter, I read bits and pieces of his meaningful life from friends and how they got to know Coy. He was still a student when I first met him in 2007 but he was already into Video blogging or Vlogging. As I look back at my email archives, I feel like he is once again talking to me. I commented a lot on his “CokskiBlue – Pinoy Vlogs, Videos and Vodcasts” . These posts are no longer shown in his blog.

We had one thing in common. We were both Cebuanos and reside (or I used to reside) in Lahug. I didn’t know we were neighbors. Though not the best of friends, we often interacted in many events. I got to work closely with Coy during my term as President of the 2008 Philippine Blog Awards. The videos were simply amazing. He inspired me to create videos in my blog but of course, I could never come close to his talent.

When he worked for Globe in 2009, I joined some of his campaigns. He was so excited when I was one of the finalists in three categories. Such a charming man who has achieved so much and improving the lot of social media users like me.

Singing in this video for the “Philippine Blog Awards 2009 v.2: “Jingle”” is simply creative. My blog was even sung by him “mommy…”

The medium is something I want to take offline so those without internet connection can also get the message. I will always remember Coy whenever I create a video blog post. Thank You Coy for the inspiration.

Dealing with losing a friend

Friends are overwhelmed with shock , denial and sadness all rolled together. Coy is at rest now but it is us , those who loved him that are grieving so much. I know this is supposed to be a post about Coy but I want to help his friends who are all devastated.

There is no way out of this pain, only a way forward.

Globe-Tatt-awards-ballbreaker
At the 2011 First Globe Tatt Awards. Here I am as a Finalist for Ball Breaker category

I am sure many will ask “Is there a relief from this pain?…Is there nowhere I can go to turn aside, to get away?”

I’d like to share what the grief experience is from years of helping out bereaved families at the Compassionate Friends (Grief support after the death of a child).

You will catch yourself thinking. “I want to go back. Go back before the illness.” But that no longer exists. The grief is a watershed and it has cut us off forever from that world— the life we knew with our loved one…, the life before THIS happened..

We keep rewinding the past, remembering, wishing until the thought pattern is established in our brain: this is your world now; this is what your life is like.

It will take a bit of time to go forward. Each one grieves differently. Some move forward quickly. Some take time and step backwards.

Convinced, ever so slowly, we begin to go forward one baby step at a time , into a new sense of time and relationships, including a new relationship with the one who has died and a new relationship with ourselves.

This is the new normal, knowing Coy lives in our memories and in our hearts and that love lasts forever.

Our other option is to stand still and we may try it for a while. If we do this, we will turn into stone. So we must keep moving..and in the only direction forward. Keep moving , even if it is only one baby step at a time. Forward into a new normal, into unknown adventure, and unknown territory. We will get there.

A poem on his facebook wall shows another option:

“You can shed tears that he is gone,
or you can smile because he has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that he’ll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all he’s left.

Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him,
or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember him only that he is gone,
or you can cherish his memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind, be happy
and turn your back. Or you can do what he’d want:
Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.”

Yes that is the direction that we will choose eventually but today and the next couple of days, we will be grappling with the pain. The grief is fresh. It is alright to cry. Coy will understand that we are crying because we loved him dearly. Grief is the price we pay because of love.

And yes, there is no way out of this pain, only a way forward.

We love you Coy. Gi-mingaw mang ko uy.

Blog posts about Coy Caballes:

Video Tribute by Kring

Goodbye, my friend Coy by Jane Uymatiao

This Was Coy. He Will Be Missed
by Marcelle Fabie

#ThankYouCoy by Tonyo Cruz

Paalam Kaibigan by Markku Seguerra

The work of the eyes by Marocharim

Filipino Blogging Community Mourns: Coy Caballes the Filipino Vlogger Will Always Be Remembered by Vince Golangco

Coy by Yoshke

Remembering Coy Caballes a.k.a. CokskiBlue #ThankYouCoy by Micaela Rodriguez

Regarding Coy by Gang Badoy

Of Death and Blogs by Mark Delgado

Seven days after Typhoon Yolanda, and relief is slowly getting through. I will not talk anymore of the devastation but the many emotions that face us today and probably for the next few months.

yolanda typhoon

Denial , anger and shock are the initial reactions from this massive devastation caught on photos and videos. I was appalled when the President blamed the local government unit (LGU) In Tacloban for the high number of casualties. Blame is a natural reaction but I had to remind him that the local leaders are in shock. The local leaders in these devastated areas are also victims . They need help not blame which can be done another time. I was also horrified to read that the President kept harping on casualty counts when the best thing to do is to push for relief work. How can one stop this massive destruction? The people who were supposed to help were still in shock that is why a third party team is always required to step in. That should be the national government but apparently they too are in shock.

Yes, blame is also part of processing loss. Anger emerges. People grieve differently. Perhaps the President felt it too but decisive action needed to be done because the survivors need food , water and shelter. Local leaders are overwhelmed with so much loss that it causes them to make slow decisions.

I am aware of the emotions that come with grief and I know I should be a bit more patient. Yes I wanted to give some slack to our President but I needed to reach out to the government that lives are at stake.

I cannot even being to imagine the loss of the survivors . They are coping with multiple crises: loss of family members . loss of homes, loss of livelihood and struggling with pangs of hunger and thirst. Here is what the grieving process is like for natural disasters.

1. Denial- I don’t deserve this! It didn’t happen.
2. Anger- Why me? Who can I blame?
3. Bargaining- Maybe if I stay in my devastated property , my family member will come back.
4. Depression- I’ve lost everything; there is no hope.
5. Acceptance- I can get another job/home; it may not be what I had, but it will be something as I rebuild my life.

Each one of us grieve differently but it is good to understand the stages of coping. Even friends in social networks are in constant debates which I attribute to grieving for the loss of lives. My friend, Cathy says it in her Facebook status wall:

We are clearly a nation in mourning, and grief has many faces. I’m a peaceful person and I don’t want any fights on my wall. Let’s just stick to the facts. I love this post that a friend sent over today, it hits the spot.

“People are starting to fight with one another on my FB feed: accusing each other of being too negative, or of not being critical enough. Telling each other to stop talking about this or to start talking more about that. The way I see it, though, is that we are all in mourning. We are all one giant clan attending a relative’s wake, and we are all grieving in different ways. Some are indignant. Some are in despair. Some are focusing on the little details of what they can do, to get them through the immensity of the pain. And some are still in denial, or at least trying to put on a stoical face.

So I am trying to be charitable. And whatever mode of grieving we find ourselves in, let’s give each other a break and be kind enough, and gentle enough, to remember that right now, we are a nation in mourning.”

Once we accept the devastation and realize there is no turning back the past, the leaders and the survivors can plan a course for rebuilding lives. There is hope. Miracles happened during the aftermath. It is heartwarming to see all the Filipinos, here and abroad including our friends who have done their share in providing relief through donations or volunteer work. Indeed this is the triumph of the human spirit. While lives, homes and livelihoods were ripped away, babies were being born like Bea Joy. Babies are reminders that life continues on and we too will go on moving to a new normal.

baby bea

It will be hard work, but together with the rest of the country, we can do it.

In the meantime, here are ways you can help, donate or volunteer.

At the Villamor Air Base

!. Donate a teddy bear to the children. Drop off points are here.

send hugs to tacloban

This is heartwarming toy drive campaign brings bears and plushies to children displaced by conflict or disaster. They collect new and clean pre-loved stuffed toys.

How to donate to the Red Cross via SMS

1.Globe users donate (5, 25, 50, 100, 300, 500, 1000) by texting: RED to 2899. #YolandaPH #Haiyan

2. Smart users can txt RED to 4143. Amounts: 10, 25, 50, 100, 300, 500, 1000

Here are other payment gateways on how to donate to the Red Cross redcross.org.ph/donatenow page.

How to volunteer

1. Red Cross- Volunteers are needed to re-pack relief goods Volunteer sign up here, goo.gl/EruKjR

2. DSWD-NROC, at NAIA Chapel Road, behind Air Transportation Office, Pasay City . To those who’d want to volunteer, pls. call 8512681 for schedule. Click image below for more places :

dswd packing
Click to enlarge

3. In Cebu, volunteers for repacking relief goods may call Ms. Evelyn Senajon at 254-7198 & 254-8397 for more info.

4. The Department of Education needs volunteers to help in conducting psychosocial intervention and stress debriefing for students and teachers affected by Typhoon Yolanda. DepEd is prioritizing health professionals with training on mental health & psychosocial intervention by National Center for Mental Health or accredited organizations. Sign up here.

Photo via 8list.ph

In every meeting of The Compassionate Friends, we provide positive ways for grief management. We believe that the only way to truly relieve the pain is to work through the grief. Once we had “Creative ways of Remembering your loved one“. The topic was about “Healing through Journaling” or Grief Journaling[/tag] by Leah Eriguel, a Palanca awardee and friend of Cathy.

In my early days of overwhelming grief, I was unable to write down any of my emotions. In the webpage I created for my son two weeks after he was buried, I could only write this:

How should I start my story? Too many questions without any answers. How can a happy family day turn into a tragedy? It is difficult and painful for me to write about the drowning accident. That was how we lost our beautiful boy one sunny day at a beach resort. Coupled with the grief I’m feeling right now, I’m still sorting through other emotions like the guilt, the regret, and the shame . The nightmare is still so clear in my mind like a movie that keeps replaying all over again.

I ended up in tears. So I only placed the eulogy. Someone said, write a journal. But I didn’t know how. I’m not a writer. Or I didn’t know how to express myself.

gravestone for my son

As Leah Eriguel unfolded the techniques of grief journaling, I wished she were around in 2000 to guide me on how to express my painful feeelings in writing.

There is no right way to journal. During the early phases of grief you may not have the energy to set down more than a word or two each day to track your feelings or what you did. Making lists is another good way to get started. You might want to make a list of what people have said that comforted you, a list of ways you can nurture yourself, or a list of all of the things about your loved one that you miss.

The idea of a memory journal is something similar to the Memory Lane of Luijoe’s memorial site. I wrote about his favorite jokes, favorite music, and his questions about death, angels and heaven. The memory journal is an easier task to do.

Leah added another technique , Writing for insight.

  • But first, you must banish internal editor by writing quickly, allowing the words to freefall from your subconscious.
  • Write continuously. Don’t erase or cross-out any words. Date each entry in your journal. Note the time, place and any details regarding your mood and emotions that will be necessary for context when you read back on your work.
  • After you’ve finished a journal entry, take a walk or get up for a glass of water before you reread your entry, and remember to reread your writing with compassion.
  • Then write an Insight Line—a sentence or two about what you think the piece is trying to tell you.
  • Of course, there are various journaling techniques that best suits the way in which you express yourself. if you are stuck and have nothing to write, try recording snippets of conversations, facts, feelings, fantasies, descriptions, impressions, quotes, images and ideas. Draw pictures, Make a collage from a magazine.

    At the end of her interesting lecture, Leah gave us a little exercise: “Imagine you see your loved one smiling , then use the word “FIRST”. Write for 10 minutes non-stop without lifting your pen.”

    This is what I wrote:

    I remember the day you FIRST gave me flowers. You placed it on my table while I was working. Everyday you placed flowers on my table. So I got a vase and placed it right beside me so there will be a place for your flowers. The next afternoon, you came with another bunch of flowers that you picked from the park. You beamed as you saw the flowers in the vase. You knew how important they were to you. Everytime I see flowers, I remember that first day. Memories of you saying : “I love you so very much, mama”. I smile and feel the comfort of your love. That remains with me forever. Today when I visit your resting place, I lay down the flowers for you. You know how much I love you, don’t you?”

    flowers for my son

    paranoid “Are you paranoid , mom?”.

    One of my daughters noticed the red and green colored fire extinguishers I placed in every room of the house. I ignored her question as I pointed to the fire exits in their respective bedrooms and gave a quick lecture on how to use the fire extinguishers.

    One daughter asked, “if we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die”

    I merely nodded.

    One effect of losing a child , particularly if death is sudden and unexpected , is that we become newly aware of the fragility of life. If this tragedy can befall us, what next? We can become fearful, almost paranoid.

    I became “slightly” paranoid after Luijoe’s death but I just kept that to myself in the early days of my grief journey.

    When my girls used to live with me, I could not bear it if the girls didn’t send me text messages on their whereabouts. “Text me where you are. Call me if you’re on the way. Make sure the driver was not drinking .” are text messages that constantly barrage their cellphones. Thank goodness, these girls humor me all the time by reassuring me they are fine.

    Yet I believe that I am not overdoing it as I still allow them to go out and have fun.

    So to answer that question. Am I paranoid?

    I really don’t want to give an impression to my daughters that I am afflicted with paranoia. But lately, TV reports on fire accidents have been bothering me. A few months ago, a bereaved mother advised me to install smoke alarms on the ceilings. She lost her daughter through a fire accident. It happens even to the best homes. Remember Gina de Venecia’s daughter who got trapped in her bedroom because of heavy steel grills in her windows? or those 3 family members that died of suffocation in their Corinthian Gardens’ home? I couldn’t find smoke alarms in hardware stores or I just didn’t know where to find it. So the next logical step was a thorough electrical wiring inspection and fire prevention means like the fire extinguishers and fire exits.

    The news about crime in major television shows are just alarming. All I can do is pray for the safety of everyone.

    In answer to the question of my daughter. “I am just being careful, dear.”

    And that ended the discussion.

    Image via najlaspeaks.wordpress.com

    I miss my babies, my children.

    my children

    My home has been a semi-empty nest since 2010 when my second child flew to Australia to work then eventually taking her post-graduate studies. During college, they lived in dorms close to their school in Quezon City when we used to live in Makati. That wasn’t too bad because I saw them once a week.

    Nothing hits hard when the last child finally leaves home. My eldest daughter moved to her condominium on May 1. She had been paying for her “shoebox” as she calls it since she was 22 years old. I am proud that she is a property owner at so young an age . The fact that she saved a huge portion of her salary to invest in this property the last three years or so is quite an achievement.

    My second daughter moved to Germany on April 30 and is officially an OFW. I am just as proud of her academic achievements and getting a job in Europe for the next three years. At her age, I traveled around Europe. The difference is , she gets to work there. She is truly blessed.

    I have been preparing for this but when the day finally came, it hits a raw nerve. I would always whine during their last few months at home…”Oh you are leaving me. I will miss you”.

    Don’t get me wrong, I am happy for them. Children should learn to be independent from their parents as soon as they are able to. I wanted them to feel that they can survive on their own, yet having their parents close by. My mom died of breast cancer when I was a teen-ager. If that should have happened to me, I did not want them to feel helpless. Though I lived on my own after college, I felt my girls lived a sheltered life. I prepared them for it. They slept with me on the family bed till they left for college. It is a nice warm feeling having them close in my arms. The family bed ritual gave them a feeling of security as they ventured on their own.

    I have long accepted that my children are riding off into their own future, maybe as shakily or as steadily as when they rode the first bike I gave them. Maybe it is my turn to have this shaky feeling at times.

    I have no regrets. As a full-time homemaker , I gave up a career and took care of them during their growing years.

    I am grateful for blogging which gives me an avenue to pursue a passion, doing something good for the country and the future of my children. It offers a distraction from the loneliness that hits me hard during this time of the month.

    my-family-with-luijoe

    I can’t suppress this pang of sadness and loneliness because it is Luijoe’s 13th angel date, today.

    If Luijoe were alive, I would still have a child around the house because he would only be 19 years old.

    If Luijoe were alive, he would probably be with me, hugging me every now and then till he is 23 years old until he decides to travel abroad like my second daughter did.

    If Luijoe were alive, the sound of a child’s footsteps on the hallway and cries of “mom” would still fill the air.

    If. if…it is my grief talking and knowing that love never dies … and the sadness of having no children at home at times like these. Oh well, there are my two cats, the two helpers and my husband to keep me company.

    I know this crushing sense of grief is just for today.

    Tomorrow will be better.

    candle-lighting

    luijoe-cross

    The Holy Week holds a special meaning in my heart as it’s during this time that my precious son talked about eternal life. How would I have known that he was preparing himself for his death?

    When I die, I will be alive again“,
    Luijoe (with excitement), a month before he became an angel.

    A month or so before Luijoe went to heaven, he asked me questions about angels, death, heaven and graves. I don’t exactly remember when Luijoe started to ask me those things.

    luijoe-at-luijoe-meadow1

    This is what I wrote two weeks after Luijoe died.

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