A letter from heaven

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My husband watching a boy picking sea shells by the beach front in Boracay. I knew he was thinking of Luijoe.

A few days before our trip to Boracay, I wrote a A letter to my son in heaven on his Angel date, May 27. This recent vacation to Boracay affirms that our son is closer to us than ever before. He has been beside us all these years.

Let me share one of the first grief poems a few weeks after we buried Luijoe. After all the friends have condoled with you, one is left alone to grieve. Now reading this “A letter from heaven” poem eleven years after his death, I see the words that inspired me to move on with my new life. I forgot all about this poem. These words may have been subliminal but it played a big role in my healing journey. If you have lost a child, this poem may give you some measure of comfort. The words didn’t really strike a chord at first. I remember wailing “but I want my Luijoe here beside me, bugging me with his toys.”

Just keep reading this “A letter from heaven” until it becomes part of your process.

And so, as I contemplate the western horizon of my life, I think of my son with exquisite sadness and profound gratitude. He evoked in me a capacity for love I did not know I had. Those feelings did not die with him, nor will they, I pray, die with me. – Gordon Livingston

A Letter from Heaven

Playing with sand, an hour before Luijoe went to heaven

To my dearest family
Some things I’d like to say,
But first of all to let you know
That I arrived okay.

I’m writing you from Heaven
Where I dwell with God above,
Where there’s no more tears or sadness
There is just eternal love.

Please do not be unhappy
Just because I’m out of sight,
Remember that I’m with you
Every morning, noon, and night.


Luijoe staring at the small fishes by the shore.

That day I had to leave you
When my life on earth was through,
God picked me up and hugged me
And He said, “I welcome you”.

“It’s good to have you back again
You were missed while you were gone,
As for your dearest family
They’ll be here later on.”

“I need you here so badly
As part of My big plan,
There’s so much that we have to do
To help our mortal man.”


The task we face is to create with our new selves something that, in some measure redeems our suffering.

Then God gave me a list of things
He wished for me to do,
And foremost on that list of mine
Is to watch and care for you.

And I will be beside you
Every day and week and year,
And when you’re sad I’m standing there
To wipe away that tear.

And when you lie in bed at night
The days chores put to flight,
God and I are closest to you
In the middle of the night.

When you think of my life on earth
And all those loving years,
Because you’re only human
They are bound to bring you tears.

But do not be afraid to cry
It does relieve the pain,
Remember there would be no flowers
Unless there was some rain.


My husband and Luijoe by the sea just a few hours before Luijoe went to heaven.

I wish that I could tell you
Of all that God has planned,
But if I were to tell you
You wouldn’t understand.

But one thing is for certain
Though my life on earth is o’er,
I am closer to you now
Than I ever was before.

And to my very dearest friends
Trust God for He knows best,
I’m still not far away from you
I’m just beyond the crest.

There are many rocky roads ahead of you
And many hills to climb,
But together we can do it
Taking one day at a time.

It was always my philosophy
And I’d like it for you too,
That as you give unto the world
So the world will give to you.

If you can help somebody
Who’s in sorrow or in pain,
Then you can say to God at night
My day was not in vain.

And now I am contented
That my life… it was worthwhile,
Knowing as I passed along the way
I made somebody smile.

So if you meet somebody
Who is down and feeling low,
Just lend a hand to pick him up
As on your way you go.


We have been humbled but not broken.

When you are walking down the street
And you’ve got me on your mind,
I’m walking in your footsteps
Only half a step behind.

And when you feel that gentle breeze
Or the wind upon your face,
That’s me giving you a great big hug
Or just a soft embrace.

And when it’s time for you to go
From that body to be free,
Remember you’re not going…
You are coming here to me!

And I will always love you
From that land way up above,
I’ll be in touch again soon
P.S….God sends His love.

I am so sorry….but, remember….God knows best!
My prayers and thoughts are with you always.
I love you more than you will ever know
(Unknown author)


We see, always with longing, children who remind us of what our child was or would be now.

A short vacation in Boracay

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““I am you; you are ME. You are the waves; I am the ocean. Know this and be free, be divine.”
–Sri Sathya Sai Baba

The weather is lovely in Boracay. I thought the remnants of Typhoon Odeng would still be felt here. But God is good. The sun is up, The blue skies and the soft calm breeze lift our spirits. This short vacation to Boracay was postponed countless of times. I guess, in time my husband and I would vacation in any beach for that matter.

When I won a raffle prize (from a Nokia E7 launch) for a trip for two to Boracay, I felt my husband would once again refuse to vacation in a beach. I could try and if he didn’t want it , I could always give it to my daughter. Surprise, he agreed. Finally! He wanted to see the world-famous Boracay with its spectacular sugary-white sands and pristine beach waters.

It was just not Boracay that my husband wanted to see. I believe having a short vacation in Boracay affirms that he is at peace with the past. This part of Boracay is peaceful, far away from the party people. Lounging by my chair and enjoying the soft cool breeze , I spot him strolling along the shoreline of the white sandy beach. Walking barefoot on this powdery white is therapeutic.

Our first day was spent strolling and letting our feet enjoy and sink into the fine white sand as our eyes feasted on the crystal blue ocean and the coastline of the other island.

Today we go island hopping.

Easter Sunday Message

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Easter Day will always remind me that my son is just around me. I believe he is somewhere living an eternal life. This station of the cross painting is also a reminder that I am comforted by many “St. John’s” in my life. In those temporary moments of deep sadness, these two memories bring me comfort.

Inspirational messages or reflections from bible passages are another source of comfort. Friends like Jay Jaboneta often share meaningful reflections. Today he sent an Easter Sunday Message from Fr Celestino Say of Texas , USA. Let me share it here.



“A warm welcome to all of you, who have come here to rejoice because Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. This is the greatest news that the world has ever received. Death has been conquered. It no longer has the final victory. Christ is risen, and his resurrection carries with it the promise of new and unending life.

St. Paul in the second reading tells us to ““Set your minds on things that are above.” If we are to be people of the Resurrection, then we must live as people whose lives are overshadowed with the light of Jesus’ resurrection. It does not mean that we are asked to live in another world. We are not to have our bodies here, and our minds somewhere up in the clouds.

The things that are above are the realities of everyday life that really count. If we are only seeking more and more possessions, if we are concerned exclusively with our own welfare, and neglect the good of others, we are not seeking the ““things that are above.”

When we believe in the resurrection, that means we believe in the power of Christ to make all things new. If Christ has the power to raise us from death, then he has the power to heal us from failures and disappointments that life brings so often. He has the power to restore relationships that have been broken, or even damaged so badly that we have given up hope of any healing.

Being people of the Resurrection means that whenever the opportunity arises for bringing new life to people, we jump at the chance. Without hesitation, we do what has to be done to bring the message of new life to whomever we can.

There is a story told of a school teacher who was assigned to visit children in a large city hospital. She received a routine call requesting that she visit a particular child. The teacher took the boy’s name and room number, and was told by the teacher on the other end of the line, ““We’re studying nouns and adverbs in this class now. I’d be grateful if you could help him with his homework, so he doesn’t fall behind the others.”

It wasn’t until the visiting teacher who got outside the boy’s room that she realized that it was located in the hospital’s burn unit. No one had prepared her to find a young boy horribly burned and in great pain. The teacher felt that she couldn’t just turn around and walk out. And so she stammered awkwardly, ““I’m the hospital teacher, and your teacher sent me to help you with nouns and adverbs.”

The boy was in so much pain that he barely responded. The young teacher stumbled through his English lesson, ashamed at putting him through such a senseless exercise.

The next morning a nurse on the burn unit asked her, ““What did you do to that boy?” Before the teacher could finish her outburst of apologies, the nurse interrupted her: ““You don’t understand. We’ve been very worried about him. But ever since you were here yesterday, his whole attitude has changed. He’s fighting back; he’s responding to treatment. It’s as if he has decided to live.”

The boy later explained that he had completely given up hope until he saw the teacher. It all changed when he came to a simple realization. With joyful tears, the boy said: ““They wouldn’t send a teacher to work on nuns and adverbs with a boy who was dying, would they?”

Do we ever treat people as if they were dying? When we give up on others, or just ignore their needs, we treat them as if their life isn’t worth anything. But Jesus’ resurrection is the clearest and boldest call we could ever receive, challenging us to be life-giving men and women to others. Each of us holds tremendous power – power for good or power for evil. Our circle of influence may be small or it may be large. The size of our influence doesn’t really matter. What does matter is the life we bring or refuse to bring to others. Whether your whole life is devoted to the care of one handicapped person, or to the welfare of thousands of people in need, what matters is that you bring hope and encouragement to whomever God has sent you.

May the Risen Jesus fill your lives with newness, may his power in you bring that newness to many others. God love you!”

Thank you Jay.

As always, it was a wonderful day to be at my son’s resting place and bring flowers. Though the day was warm, the gentle breeze was soothing. The light from the candle served to light our lavender scented incense.

There lies my son, the reason for my passion to live a meaningful life and to be part of the solution of this country’s problems.

Discovering tranquility at Luijoe meadow

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“When we are unable to find tranquillity within ourselves, it is useless to seek it elsewhere.” Francois de La Rochefoucauld

Discovering a tranquil peace at Luijoe meadow leaves me energized and comforted. Luijoe’s grandparents named this “Luijoe meadow”, a playground to frolic at their mountain residence in Benguet. They had named this lovely meadow after their only grandson, Luijoe even before my son passed away in May 27, 2000.


Luijoe meadow somewhere in Benguet

It was Holy Week in 2000 when we all vacationed in this picturesque pine valley hideaway. My energetic young man wasn’t in the mood to have his photo taken by Luijoe meadow then but I insisted. He was in a hurry to run around and just be. That Holy Week was well spent talking about the death of Jesus on the Cross, the comfort of Mary by John the Apostle and more. I didn’t know my son was preparing me for his death a few weeks later.


Painting on the wall of Church of Holy Sacrifice, UP Campus

My son’s death reminds me that life on Earth is fleeting that there is far more meaningful tasks that need to be accomplished before the promise of eternal life. There are poignant memories that comfort me today. Luijoe often gave me a hug and reminded me before bedtime. “Mom you haven’t prayed”. I catch myself during chaotic situations, praying to God for serenity. I remember my son’s gentle reminder and lift my problems in prayer.

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Brothers and sisters are as close as hands and feet

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A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost. ~Marion C. Garretty

sisters-forever

We are four sisters. Two (Myrna and Lorna) are based in the United States and two of us (Belen and myself) reside in Manila. I was supposed to join Lorna as an immigrant by now but I declined the application papers in 1986. Myrna (the sister running for City Council here in a city in Califorina) and Lorna moved to San Francisco in 1984 and 1986 respectively to nurse a broken heart. I am particularly close to Myrna. We talked for hours about our love life, our work, and philosophy of life. We love to dress up and be fashionable that we often shared clothes and accessories. There was a time that we even looked alike except I am taller . Unlike my two other sisters, we don’t stay up late to party. We often giggled how the two other sisters scampered to the gate to join their friends , once my dad went up to his bedroom. Dad never knew this.

That was why I felt broken-hearted when Myrna found work in Calfornia in 1984 as an Architect (yes she had a working visa). I wanted to join her. It seemed I was getting nowhere with my 6 year relationship with Butch so I asked him “do you want to marry me or not? If you won’t marry me, that’s okay because I will join my sister in California”.

To my surprise, Butch did not see my question as a threat. He said he’d marry me the following year even if he was just second year in Law school. Though years have kept us apart , our sisterly bond is always there. I can’t quite pinpoint what makes us close. Perhaps, a sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves – a special kind of double.
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No one can take away our love

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He evoked in me a capacity for love I did not know I had. Those feelings did not die with him, nor will they, I pray, die with me.– Gordon Livingston

A tribute to Luijoe’s 10th angel year (May 27, 2000 – May 27, 2010)

Parents who have lost a child speak of the ““zero point”. Our lives are divided into the time before and the time after our children died. No event – no graduation, no marriage, no other death – so defines us. At one moment I was one person, then, suddenly, I was someone else. The task we face is to create with our new selves something that, in some measure redeems our suffering.

We see, always with longing, children who remind us of what our child was or would be now. (Gordon Livingston)
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Where I am today

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DadoFamily214I often wonder how he would look like today. The young man as he often called himself even at 6 years old, is supposed to be an incoming college freshman, the last of my children to be in school.

Would he have been taller than my husband? Would he have the same gleaming smile? Will he still throw me kisses and give me a bunch of flowers with an ““I love you” note? Would he still be cracking jokes? I can’t imagine because I will always remember him as an innocent and beautiful 6 year old boy whose death caused my world to spin around and around. I still miss him dearly but the pain is not heart wrenching anymore. I don’t feel like I am drowning in pain. I yearn for him especially during birth and death anniversaries or when I see a boy similar to his age.

Like this very moment, I think of Luijoe. Tomorrow is his 10th angel year.

flowers

““I don’t know how you’ve survived. It would kill me to lose my child.” Oh, to have one peso for every time I heard that sentence! I’d spend every one of those pesos for an answer, for you see, I don’t know how I’ve survived. What choice did I have? Each transistion has been work, hard work, sorting through what it means and learning to function in the face of these circumstances not of my choosing. Five years living as a zombie and the next five years in my new normal.

My new normal as a blogger served me well: my role as a bereaved mother is no longer the first way I define who I am, but it is ever-present in my life and cannot be separated from all that I am . . . for the rest of my life.

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Ambivalent towards Erap

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I feel ambivalent towards Erap.

I neither like nor dislike him. My feelings has something to do with the memories of my little boy. My 6 year old son adored Erap. Luijoe thought the world of the former president. Luijoe yelled at the top of his voice that Erap was the smartest president in the whole world, in a jumpacked room at a plane ticket office ten summers ago.

In his booming voice, he threw his hands up in the air , twirling around the room, “Mom, President Erap is so smart, the smartest president in the whole wide world”.

awkward silence

Nobody in that room could deny not hearing my son’s adulation. It was May 2000 at the height of Erap’s unpopularity. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow both of us. I could feel the steely gaze and snickers surrounding us. My boy never sensed the awkwardness of the situation but I wanted to save face.

“So , why is Erap the smartest president in the whole wide world?”, as I squeaked the question to my naughty son.

“Mom, his jokes mom. He says the funniest jokes. That is very smart of him” (or something like that)

See my son had a great sense of humor and loved to throw a joke or two. Then he discovered the Erap jokes during one of our conversations. Luijoe overheard us laughing to our heart’s content on an Erap joke. He wanted to know why were laughing. He badgered to know the joke. So I narrated the joke

Erap: Miss, do you have a ballpen?
Clerk: Sorry, sir we don’t have any ballpen
Erap (angry): Why did you name your store “Penshoppe“?

royal_elastics 043.jpgHow my boy laughed! Luijoe loved to tell this joke to everyone . One time, Luijoe and I passed by Penshoppe ( a teen fashion store) in Glorietta mall and I teased him if he wanted to go inside with me , so I could ask the same question Erap asked. Luijoe tugged me away. hehe

I bought him the book , “Joke ni Erap” by the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism in early 2000. Luijoe often packed this Erap Joke book in his backpack and kept re-reading those jokes that he could understand. He loved the book so much, he even labelled it with his name. Here are a few of his favorite jokes culled from that book.
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How my son inspired me to start a grief support advocacy

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““My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ?”

I can easily relate to one of the last words of a dying Christ.

Who has not, at some dark hour, cried out to the heavens in anguish and pain and wondered if indeed we have been cursed and abandoned by God ?

Picture 1.png
Image taken from Luijoe’s prayer book

The image of a dying Jesus Christ , a sorrowful Mother Mary and a comforting John never fails to bring me tears as poignant memories of my son drift into my mind. I wrote this story when I first started this blog 4 years ago and I think it is worth sharing again.

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 Good Friday , one of my treasured memories that remind 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.
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It has been 9 years….

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I brought a child into the world and thought my life was complete.
I bowed my head and thanked the Lord for giving this child to me.
My dreams were of the future and of how my child would be,
Of how he would run and play games like hide-and-seek and always run back to me.
How could I live my life without my child – How could I possibly survive?
When the dreams I once had for my child were no longer alive?
heaven

Nine years have passed since Luijoe died. Another year marked off the calendar as we confront life without our precious child.

Anniversary dates stare out from the calendar. For most of us, the days of birth and death are the most prominent but so hard to acknowledge. The birthday that brought so much jubilation may now be but a fond and sometimes painfully wistful day of a “what might have been” memory. Then the lousiest day of the year, the day that is etched on some stone in the south of Manila, the day some of our sweetness left us forever. A reasonable amount of preparation in anticipation of this gloomy day and the empty sadness it brings doesn’t really help. We are aware about these death anniversary dates which I’d rather call the Angel date.

You see, our family members are more irritable, tempers fly and tears easily roll down. Then we remember that Luijoe’s death anniversary is nearing. Ah yes, even if we were prepared for it. It is like standing at the shores of despair looking out at the waves below the sunset that is so beautiful while signaling the end of the day. These waves of profound sadness can be relentless and the big one is coming on that date. This knowledge never seems capable of preventing the wave from smashing us into our lonely reality.

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