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.

“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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Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.

The first thing I do when I wake up is read my tweets. The RIP AJ Perez was most prominent in my timeline. Who is AJ Perez? I found out that AJ Perez was the lone fatality of an accident in Tarlac. AJ was declared dead on arrival by a hospital in Paniqui shortly after the accident took place at 12:10 a.m due to 2 multple head injuries.
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Rest in peace, Elizabeth Taylor. I will always remember Elizabeth Taylor for her violet-eyed beauty, her stormy romances and eight marriages and her Oscar-winning performances. I also like her quotable quotes that shows snippets of her life:

Not at least until I’m dead, and at the moment I’m having too much fun being alive…and I plan on staying that way.

Every breath you take today should be with someone else in mind. I love you.

That is the thing that will give back to you all the rewards that there are. Don’t do it for yourself, because then it becomes selfish.

Give. Remember always to give. That is the thing that will make you grow.

You are who you are. All you can do in this world is help others to be who they are and better themselves and those around them.

Never let yourself think beyond your means…mental, emotional or any otherwise.

Always keep love and humility in your heart.

No one is going to play Elizabeth Taylor, but Elizabeth Taylor herself.

Humor is the only way to stay alive.

Because then it becomes about yourself…which is wrong. Giving is to give to God. Helping is to help others.

You find out who your real friends are when you’re involved in a scandal.

I suppose when they reach a certain age some men are afraid to grow up. It seems the older the men get, the younger their new wives get.

It’s not the having, it’s the getting.

Marriage is a great institution.

My mother says I didn’t open my eyes for eight days after I was born, but when I did, the first thing I saw was an engagement ring. I was hooked.
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I saw the news in Twitter. Angelo Reyes got shot.

“Who was Angelo Reyes?” I asked in Twitter.

The corruption charges against the General Garcia was not something I really followed because I was busy with other matters like the Reproductive health issue. Besides, one of the bloggers was going to write about it.

Twitter was then buzzing with shock and wondering what happened.

Did he feel he could no longer hold his head high, with his former underling telling the world how he (Reyes) had left the military service with millions in people’s money?
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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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A simple enough pleasure, surely, to have breakfast alone with one’s husband, but how seldom married people in the midst of life achieve it. – Anne Morrow Lindbergh

It is a blessed Sunday morning as I take breakfast with my husband. These days, I don’t read newspapers unless I want to collect that issue, Our netbooks are with us as we sip our coffee. This time around, I am taking warm calamansi-lemon drink to soothe my sore throat. It is an old folks home remedy that always works.

calamansi-juiceThe house seems quieter without my other daughter’s booming voice at home. (I will write about this more). Lauren is fast asleep so it is just Butch and me. I am just grateful about today. The quiet moments with my husband at breakfast. Gazing at the two Siamese kitties lounging nearby makes me smile. I think I will be bonding more with my pet cat Missy.

I believe that happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast even if it is just once a week on a Sunday.

Andy Rooney best explains this bit of happiness.

For most of life, nothing wonderful happens. If you don’t enjoy getting up and working and finishing your work and sitting down to a meal with family or friends, then the chances are you’re not going to be very happy. If someone bases his happiness or unhappiness on major events like a great new job, huge amounts of money, a flawlessly happy marriage or a trip to Paris, that person isn’t going to be happy much of the time. If, on the other hand, happiness depends on a good breakfast, flowers in the yard, a drink or a nap, then we are more likely to live with quite a bit of happiness.

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ebook-photo
MLQ Message for Vee Press E-books’ launch

I regret being unable to join my good friend Noemi Dado on this extremely happy occasion. She and her husband are the best kind of friends any writer can ask for. She can agree to disagree and can find the whole path where neither integrity nor civility ends up being compromised.

I don’t know how Noemi gets her energy but it is amazing. So is her level of achievement. She takes teasing with aplomb and finds ways to do more and more without sacrificing family or friendship.

This Momblogger is a walking typing talking institution. Long may she remain so. Read her, learn from her, debate with her: enjoy her work as she enjoys learning and sharing with the world.

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Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak. Whispers the oe’r
fraught heart and bids it break. ~William Shakespeare

filipino-compassion4

Picking up the pieces

As we as a nation try to salvage what bit of dignity of we can still salvage on the failed operation of the police, the failure of the government of Noynoy Aquino and the wanton disregard of some irresponsible members of the media for the safety of the hostages, we should also examine how we as Filipinos dealt with the situation and conducted ourselves. Yes, the incompetence of the police, corruption and government and perhaps the arrogant demeanor of some media outfits are so routine to us that we’ve accepted them as a fact of life and part and parcel of being Filipino but at the end of the day, we must not allow these so-called realities cloud our ability to feel compassion – and more importantly to show this feeling of sadness and grief outwardly to those who are really hurting.

filipino-compassion1
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