Touched by An Angel

10Apr 2021

Five parenting lessons my beloved son taught me

by Noemi Lardizabal-Dado ⋅ Leave a Comment

It’s that time of the year that I declutter my home. The library which is located in my home office is often filled with books because my family members are book lovers. As I reviewed the books on the top shelf, I screamed with delight upon discovering my son’s yearbook in Family Montessori Katipunan , his first school. I thought I had lost his yearbook after moving homes in 2007. I thought “there must be a message here”. I quickly leafed through the pages and found his handsome photo.

I could see that parents submitted anecdotes about their child. I could not help tearing and smiling at the same time. My heart tied in a knot as I read the last part.

He is a very energetic child in spite of his asthma. His favourite past time is reading (pretending to) his books, playing with his Lego blocks, writing in workbooks, running around the house and driving his sisters crazy. When he is in a good mood, he likes to kiss everyone. He always wants to be loved. However, when he is scolded, which he hates, he says “I am a good boy!” with much conviction.

Come to think of it, children are born without any baggages. Children are good. It is adults that give them the bad habits. Parents help shape their thoughts and habits in their early years. When I wrote this anecdote, Luijoe was only 4 years old. True, Luijoe was a good boy.

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It occurred to me that Luijoe taught me a lot about parenting. Luijoe did not mince words when he found something wrong with my parenting style. I am sure most of you have learned some important lessons from your children. I would like to share some of these poignant memories from my son.

1. Patience, mom

One of the important skills that all parents need to learned is how to be patient.

There were times my son wanted to get his way and he would cry when I refused. When I tell him to stop his crying spells, he’d raise his hands like a STOP sign “Mom. give me time to stop crying. I need more time to stop”.

That really gave me an insight that kids do not automatically stop crying like one would shut off the faucet.

2. Breastfeeding is good for babies

I still remember my son tugging at my sleeve “Mom, did you do that to me?”

He led me to the room where Maan, his former yaya was breastfeeding her son.

“Of course, I breastfed you.” I hugged my boy.

“Are you sure mom? Breastfeeding is good for babies.”

My son didn’t seem to believe me. Too bad I didn’t have photos of our breastfeeding moments. I pointed out the cross stitching projects in the kitchen .

I explained “When I breastfed you, I did cross stitch projects because it took you an hour to feed.” He seemed satisfied with my answer but the next day, he nagged me with the same question.

Luijoe’s fascination with breastfeeding inspired me to start my breastfeeding advocacy in 2007.

3. Don’t spank

My son once berated me for spanking him, “mom you should not spank”. I wanted to hit myself. I did not know any better. My parents brought me up, that spanking is a form of discipline. I turned to using another style “Face the corner” . He did not like it either but I had set rules that needed to be followed. Luijoe’s words haunted me through the years which probably moved me to pursue Children rights and eventually push for The Positive Discipline in Lieu of Corporal Punishment of Children Act of 2011.

4. Take time to smell the flowers

Flowers remind me to let go of work. Luijoe reminds me that I need to smell the flowers. I smile at the sweet memories, of his hugs which came with a bunch of flowers as a surprise. “I love you so very much, Mama,” he’d cry out. Remembering all these often bring tears to my eyes. The flowers he picked often came from our garden or the park. It is a bittersweet memory. I wish I could turn back the clock and hear him say “I love you so very much, Mama,” over and over again. Maybe it is one reason, I often deluge my home with fresh flowers.

5. Pray , mom

My son is very prayerful. I bought him a Catholic prayer book which we would read every night. I also had my own prayerbook which I shared with him.

Luijoe’s favorite prayer book

One time, Luijoe held my face with his chubby palms, “pray, mom”. I gave him a hug and prayed along with him. Without my Luijoe beside me now, I turned to prayers. I found the power of a praying parent. All I can do now is pray every day. I let go of worrying. It has been said that “worrying is like praying for what you don’t want.” Let go and Let God is my motto.

For many years, I struggled to find the meaning of my son’s death. As memories flow, I am reminded that Luijoe is never really gone. He continues to live in me. There is a lot to accomplish. Luijoe reminds me of the bigger work that God has set out for me in this world…declutter the mess.

04Apr 2021

Easter Sunday reminds me of my beloved son’s thoughts of eternal life

by Noemi Lardizabal-Dado ⋅ 15 Comments

I wrote this many years ago but I want to share this story again because Easter Sunday is very special.

“If I die, Mama, will I be alive again?” Luijoe asked. My six-year-old was lying on the bed, flipping through the prayer books piled on his tummy.

It was Holy Week, a month before that fateful day of May 27, 2000.

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I turned my body to face him and stroked his cheek. How could I explain the mysteries of death to a little boy? “When we die, Lui, we will live forever, through eternal life in heaven,” I said the lines I’d memorized from the teachings of our Catholic Church.

“When I die, I will be alive again!” he exclaimed, jumping in bed, arms wide in exuberance.

“Yes, baby, you will live forever, but not on Earth.” I smiled at his childish enthusiasm and wide-eyed wonder. “I won’t see you anymore, but you will have eternal life with God.”

With a serious look on his face, he asked, “Mama, who goes to heaven?” His chubby fingers twirled on the strands of my hair. He sniffed the ends and splayed my hair along his cheeks.

“Good boys go to heaven and usually they become angels.”

“I don’t want to go to hell,” he said with vehemence.

I hugged him, said he was a good boy, and promised that he would never go to hell.

Head bowed, he picked up a prayer book to continue praying, then looked up. With both hands planted firmly on my cheeks, he asked, “Are the clouds heaven?”

“I’m not sure if the clouds are heaven, but it’s somewhere up there and hell is down there,” I said, kissing his fat cheeks.

He never tired of asking the same questions over and over again, as though reassuring himself that there were angels that protected him and that heaven was a beautiful place to go when someone died.

Why had I not seen our conversation as a sign that something devastating was about to happen? If I had sensed the omen then, could I have prevented his death? Had Luijoe known he was leaving us soon and in his childlike way, tried to warn me?

(The above is an excerpt from the story I wrote on Luijoe’s Life and Death from The Fallen Cradle edited by Agnes Prieto)

Sometimes I wished I had the power to go back in time and stopped his death. Of course, that is not possible. Those wonderful words he told me weeks before his death is what keeps my faith alive.

Luijoe’s words never fail to bring me hope that we will reunite one day. It gives me the courage to put meaning in my life.

My religious background always taught me that Jesus is in Heaven with God and the angels and that Heaven is a place to go , but only after we die. The ultimate questions rests on , “how can anyone see or experience Heaven after they’re dead, since we’re taught when you die, everything ceases to exist? ” “Or does the spirit live on?” Has anyone actually heard a heaven testimonial from a loved one?

Another common question is “What is the use in striving for something that is intangible, invisible and unseen? Or is it? Eternal Life seems so elusive.”

Yet I will go with my faith. I believe my greatest proof is my son when he innocently exclaimed that “When I die, I will be alive again” two weeks before his untimely death. How simplistic but that is faith.

Faith is one of the virtues that keeps me alive and going in this temporary world.

“I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” (John11:25,25)

“For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16)

May Easter Day remind us not only of our Lord’s resurrection but also that of our precious children. We hope your celebration of Easter is filled with the joy the Christ offers in his resurrection.

Happy Easter day to all.

02Apr 2021

How my son reminded me about the comfort of St. John the Beloved

by webs ⋅ 1 Comment

When a child dies, it’s not the natural order of things. For many years, I struggled to find the meaning of my son’s death. Five years and a lot of pain later, I finally found the answers. It all started with an email to Cathy after I invited her to join as co-founder for the Compassionate Friends Philippines.I have to mention that this support group is not around anymore, but I continue to offer comfort in my aboutmyrecovery.com blog.

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She replied and readily agreed to join. What struck me was her statement:

I now know that we are called to serve in different ways because we have different missions. Setting up Compassionate Friends in the Philippines is clearly yours as Migi’s Corner and Grief counselling and death education are mine.

How could that be? If I wanted a mission, a foundation seems a more noble idea. “The Compassionate Friends” is not an original idea. So there I was thinking, Alma, Cathy and Pia initiated foundations all in the memory of their children. I don’t have any memorial or foundation in Luijoe’s name. I felt a bit sad, but Cathy’s words stuck in my mind for many days until I remembered a conversation with my son during Holy Week.

The actual picture that Luijoe pointed out in his prayerbook

This is what I wrote in Luijoe’s memorial site almost 21 years ago:

Then one night while we had our usual prayers before bedtime, he pointed to the picture of St. John the Apostle which was found in his Rosary Prayer book. I explained that Jesus told John to take care and comfort his mother when he dies. Luijoe seemed to be touched by St. John and the following nights, he kept repeating the same question and this time he was asking how John was related to Mother Mary. I found that to be a very deep question, and I just said he was one of Jesus’ apostle.

Now I realized the meaning. It was like Luijoe was making sure I would remember John. I did remember our conversation during the wake .It touched my heart that my son was worried about my grief.

I realized Luijoe wanted me to carry on the comfort to others. The St. John symbolizes compassion. By working with The Compassionate Friends, I would act like a “St. John” to other bereaved parents. This memory brought tears of joy and nostalgia. Even if I am no longer around in this mortal world, this grief support group will still continue on. Truly, God works in mysterious ways and He uses our children to help us find and shape our ministries. It is our children who remind us of the bigger work that God has set out for us in this world.

I wrote this post a long time ago when I was still active with “The Compassionate Friends”. But I continue to talk to parents who have lost a child through my blog and sharing this podcast. My son never let me forget that there are many “St. Johns” in my life. Today, Good Friday reminds me Luijoe is never entirely gone

Luijoe is never entirely gone.

Luijoe’s favorite prayer book

28Mar 2021

Being a 70s child & why today’s youth never had it so good

by Noemi Lardizabal-Dado ⋅ 4 Comments

“Being an 80s child & why today’s youth never had it so good” brings back sweet memories of my youth. Hence, I’ve come up with my own version of the 70’s child. (yes I am that old. High School in 1970 and college in 1974).

We didn’t have Oculus Virtual Reality headsets, PlayStation, Nintendo 64, X boxes, video games, cable TV with over 100 channels, VCR’s, surround sound, cellular phones, computers, online chatrooms.

Instead we had…

1. Dance parties that started at 4:00 PM because martial law imposed a curfew at 12:00 midnight. A permit was required whenever there were more than 5 guests.

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2. Portable typewriter instead of a laptop. When you made a typing error, you had to use a correction fluid . No delete buttons. And you had to have your content ready before typing.

3. Four TV channels: Channel 3, Channel 7 and Channel 9 and Channel 13.

4. No call waiting. No direct dialing. One time, I had the shock of my life when an operator rudely interrupted a telephone conversation with my suitor because of an incoming long distance call.

5. No Automated Teller machines. Since I resided at a dormitory in the UP campus, my allowance was sent through telegraphic transfer. Queuing at PNB for 30 minutes or so was not fun at all.

6. PONG . If you don’t know what PONG is it is a rudimentary side-view tennis game, the ball bounces off a long horizontal line at the bottom of the oscilloscope, and there is a small vertical line in the centre to represent the net.

7. No email. I wrote letters to my siblings with a pen, of course, and rode a jeepney to drop my letter at the post office. Often it takes a week for our letter to arrive. If we wanted instant messaging, we had to use the telegram such as RCPI.

8. No World Wide Web. Research had to be done in the library. And nope, there were no search engines. One needed to be proficient in the Dewey Decimal Classification System and use the card catalog to get the right book.

9. No bottled water. I drank water from the faucet or from a hose in the backyard.

10. No portable music player. No Napster. No. torrents. No MP3 ‘s. No IPod. No Spotify, Apple Music. No podcasts. Vinyl records and cassette tapes were so cool. I brought my friends over to the house to groove with the music and dance along with the music- 12 steps (not the 12-step program, duh), LA walk, the Swing.

11. No tablets or iPads. No macbooks . No IBM. No Microsoft. We had a TRS 80. And the RAM was either 4 or 16 kilobytes of RAM . Whaa?

12. No USB flash drives. No CD’s or floppy disk either. Instead, we used cassette tapes to store computer data. If the tape got torn, you splice it.

13. No computer schools. I did my own self-study on BASIC programming .

14. Groovy . Not astig.

(I will add more when I remember something. )

To the children of this decade: I hope you take advantage of the new technologies to enhance your God-given talents. You never had it so good.

Photo via pxleyes.com

19Mar 2021

Do You Believe in Giving Second Chances?

by Noemi Lardizabal-Dado ⋅ 12 Comments

Second chances?

Do you believe that someone who has caused you so much pain deserves a second chance?

Do you believe YOU deserve a second chance?

Over 15 years ago, I packed my bags and left my husband because I thought I wanted to start a new life without him. Grief had overtaken us so much that we were virtually strangers to each other. Never in my wildest dream did I imagine myself with a broken ankle as I stepped inside my new pad. I had no choice but to live with him and work things out. Truly God works in mysterious ways. It was as if God said, ” you can’t run away from your marriage. Try to fix it. Give it a second chance”

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If you think that my husband is the culprit, you’re wrong. I am to blame too. It takes two to a marriage. I knew I had to take care of myself first and foremost. I had to give myself a second chance. A second chance to be a more loving wife and mother. A second chance to be more financially independent and a second chance to be a better person.

I believe second chances are possible if….

1. The person who has caused you hurt is willing to make amends and to sit down and compromise.

2. I set boundaries. One can’t repeat the same mistake all over again, but at the same time one must be aware that we should also give allowances for recovery to take place.

3. You love yourself. I’d like to believe that “You cannot give what you do not have.” I find that I am a better wife, a better mother, a more compassionate friend, after I have spent time nurturing myself.

4. You are open to the positive possibilities of the future instead of limiting the future by today’s feelings and circumstances.

5. You forgive. When we hold on to pain, old grudges, bitterness and even hatred, many aspects of our lives suffer. Through forgiveness, you choose to no longer define yourself as a victim.

It’s been more than 10 years now.

I lost weight and look so much sexier or so my husband says. My husband is overflowing with love and kisses and I feel so pampered. My children are happier with our new normal. I am financially independent.

I feel good about myself. I feel beautiful.

I want to dance to the music of the Dancing Queen. No kidding!

I continue to be a work in progress.

Yes, I feel loved. I feel blessed.

Only because I gave myself a second chance.

So do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Photo via iriefitgirl.blogspot.com

11Mar 2021

Daily affirmations through the years with Louise Hay

by Noemi Lardizabal-Dado ⋅ Leave a Comment

Beautiful and meaningful affirmations uplift my day.

Losing my beloved Luijoe, my precious child brought me into such deep sadness and negativity that all I could think was of dying. If it were not for my two girls, I would not have gotten out of the rut. Asking help from God meant helping myself and oh boy, I looked out for ways.

“Dear God, please help me” and all I could hear was “help yourself”.

One person that crossed my path are the affirmations of Louise Hay. One way to empower the good is through affirmations which are just simple positive statements. I am glad I found her. Sadly, Louise Hay transitioned on August 30, 2017 of natural causes at age 90. She passed peacefully in her sleep. Her affirmations have helped me so much that I would like to share of few of them here.

I was borderline obese and this affirmation helped me in choosing a healthy lifestyle. In order for me to think clearly, I needed to have a healthy body.

“I am the only person who has control over my eating habits. I can always resist something if I choose to.”

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As part of my healthy lifestyle, I take brisk walks and these are my thoughts:

“I take brisk walks in the sunshine to invigorate my body and soul”.

Yes, “I am in perfect health”

Acting as if “Acting as if” is one of my favorite recovery tool that worked for me. By acting as if you are a certain type of person, you become that person, what I call the “As If” principle. To practice the positive, I act as if. It’s a positive form of pretending.

“I act as if I already have what I want- it’s an excellent way to attract happiness”.

Healing involved forgiveness and letting go of past hurts.

“I forgive everyone in y past for all perceived wrongs. I release them with love”

The pain of losing a son taught me so much. Pain is a great teacher. It taught me to face who I really am and where I needed to move forward to. What I did with my painful experience defined who I became.

“Every experience I have is perfect for my growth”.

My heart is full of gratitude. Yes, the sweetness of gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. I have learned the magical lesson that making the most of what I have turns it into more. It is not material gifts that make me happy. It is love.

“My day begins and ends with gratitude and joy”.

Sometimes I worry too much and then I realize it is not good to have negative thoughts so I pray.

“Today is going to be a really, really good day.”

Like I told you earlier, I did not live a healthy lifestyle for many years especially those times when I was in deep misery over my son’s death. I chose happiness and being grateful.

“I am grateful for my healthy body. I love life.”

My toes hurt when I walk . I know I must see a doctor soon to check why it hurts. In the meantime, I make sure I meet my step goals.

“My body takes me everywhere easily and effortlessly.”

Ugh, I easily get irritated and need to continue this affirmation:

“I am patient, tolerant and diplomatic”.

Helping myself also meant taking care of myself spiritually, mentally , and physically.

“My mind and body are in perfect balance. I am a harmonious being.”

When I look at myself today, I can only attribute it to the work I did to help myself in the past.

“Today is the future I created yesterday”.

Taking care of myself meant loving myself first. It means loving myself into health and a good life of my own. It meant loving myself into all that I have always wanted. Yes, love myself into peace, happiness, success, joy and contentment.

“I am worth loving. There is love all around me.”

I constantly work at loving myself. One day, I looked up at myself in the mirror and loved what I saw. I saw a new and lovely me. Loving myself had become habitual.

“I am surrounded by love. All is well.”

07Mar 2021

Our Love Story: 43 years with my college sweetheart

by Noemi Lardizabal-Dado ⋅ 107 Comments

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I wrote this 13 years ago, but I thought I’d update it again because today is our couple anniversary. I like to look back at the good old days and dream about the future together. Here is our story:

I gaze at my two lovely daughters and smile. I realize they are much older than us.. when we, their parents, were just college sweethearts. My two daughters wailed and wondered when they will meet The One. Will they be as blessed as their parents who found their true love from each other? I have no ready answers. Love just happens when you least expect it. Who would have thought Butch and I would end up together for better and for worse? He became my boyfriend for the most shallow reasons, which was “I wanted a cute boyfriend”

Butch and I met through my college roommate at the University of the Philippines Shopping Center ‘ restaurant. It was not love at first sight for me. I think Butch was stricken by Cupid’s arrow that fateful night. To my great annoyance, he kept staring at me “You have beautiful eyes” all night long. He never let go of me since then. Though Butch was utterly charming and really cute, I wasn’t interested. First, he looked really wild as in “jeprox” (the slang word for punk during those days). Second, “mestizos” are not my type. Third, he was two years younger than me. I knew he was 18 years old, yet he lied that he was 20 years old.

He was very persistent. Riding on his yellow motorcycle, he’d zoom past the dorm as if “by accident” and pretend to be surprised to see me. I liked the attention but felt he was too dangerous. But see, Butch had a way with words (think “bolero”) which would make any girl giggle. Fear engulfed me when I began to fall in love with him. His wild and dangerous looks were just too tempting. What was it with “bad boy image” that attracted me to him? For years, I poured over my books just to get excellent grades, but for what? College is supposed to be fun. I wanted to have fun. My motto that semester: be adventurous and grab a cute boyfriend. After all, graduation loomed the following semester. I decided I wanted to have a boyfriend. Not just any boyfriend. He had to be a cute.

My greatest fear though was he’d seduce me. Butch looked really reckless and seductive. Heck. I threw caution to the wind and “went along with him” the night he announced to the world that I was his girlfriend.

I thought, “I am his girlfriend? How did that happen?”

Whispering sweet nothings to my ear, “I will marry you one day. I will be a lawyer. You just see.”

I was laughing inside and mused I would never marry this guy. He’s a bum. I won’t have a future with him. He is my boyfriend because I just want to have fun. I hate my boring student life.

True enough, the following month, I found out he didn’t meet the university requirements of passing 21 units, 60% passing of all subjects and to have a passing grade in at least 4 units. He scored a grand slam. The verdict was expulsion from the state university. I knew there was hope, so I dragged him to the college secretary for a reconsideration.

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“No, I don’t have hope. I will move to San Beda then take up Law after college” he moaned.

“You are going to graduate AB Political Science from UP and proceed to the College of Law”, I convinced him to appeal.

Thanks to Dean Martin Gregorio, Butch was granted a reconsideration. Since we became steadies, he passed all his subjects and eventually studied Law.

Despite Butch wild streak, he never took advantage of me. Haha. I should give him credit for being a gentleman in that aspect. In fact, we enjoyed a clean and responsible relationship. Friends doubted that we practiced abstinence. True, Butch would suddenly wrap me in his arms and plant a kiss on my lips right in front of my horrified friends, but that was it. We were a romantic couple for 7 years. Locking our hands together, we sat by the sunken garden and watched the sunset as we wove dreams of being together forever and having babies one day. Amidst the Beegees “How Deep is Your Love”, time stood still for love struck us. Well, mostly his dreams. I wasn’t too sure if he would be a suitable husband.

Two years later…

Holding pizza and a dozen red roses , Butch took me by surprise as he knelt down and proposed marriage. How roooomaaaantic, I gushed .

My brain woke me up from fantasy land.

I said “God, No. You’re only 20. You don’t have a job. You haven’t graduated from college”

We married 7 years after we first met in college.

Our love story is quite long , romantic and crazy so I am not boring you to tears . But see, our love spans 42 years. We have two anniversary dates: March 7 when we first became college sweethearts and May 5 for our wedding day. And of course, celebrating the day we met on January 26, 1978. That sums up 38 years together as a couple who are still so madly in love with each other. You know it is true love when you have gone through the worse moments in marriage and yet managed to survive and make the love even stronger than it ever was.

It wasn’t all roses, sweet nothings, and icing on a cake type of relationship.

We nearly separated 16. years ago. Grief had overtaken us so much. Our marriage suffered during the first few years after my son died. My husband and I had different ways of coping with our grief. He wanted to talk about Luijoe’s death. I preferred to keep quiet and be by myself. This created a distance between us. Sometime in 2005, I packed my bags and muttered goodbye to a tearful Butch. I couldn’t stand him anymore. I wanted a new life without him. I made sure the girls were settled in their dormitories for me to make this great escape.

Alas, God destined me to stick it out with Butch.

$fracture$ As I moved in to my new pad, I lost my footing on the steps and fell to the ground. Were those firecrackers I heard? Oh dear, that awful popping sound came from my ankles. Holding on to the lifeless ankle, my ex-landlord helped me into a cab and brought myself to Medical City emergency room. Fuelled with pride, I refused to contact Butch but asked L to bring me clothes for my confinement. I suffered a fracture which required insertion of metal rods onto my right tibia and ankle bone. Butch got hold of my accident and drove to Medical City. He insisted on taking care of me.

I had no choice but to live with him and work things out. Truly God works in mysterious ways. It was as if God said, ” you can’t run away from your marriage. Try to fix it”. Eventually, with the help of a caring grief counsellor, we sorted out our problems and renewed our commitment to work on our marriage. The secret in the renewal of our marriage was reliving that first time we fell madly in love with each other.

For the next 6 months, I was confined to the wheelchair or crutches . Sounds like those cheesy Filipino scenes in a movie, huh?

Our love is best seen as devotion and action, not just an emotion. Our love during those college sweethearts ‘ days were based on shallow emotions towards each other. Today, our devotion to each other has truly led us to true love.

Yes, young love is possible, dear girls. Our love will always be a work in progress till death do us part

Often when the revival of Beegees “How Deep is Your love” plays in the airwaves, the meaning of the lyrics rings true then and now:

Chorus:
How deep is your love
I really need to learn
cause were living in a world of fools
Breaking us down
When they all should let us be
We belong to you and me

I believe in you
You know the door to my very soul
You’re the light in my deepest darkest hour
You’re my saviour when I fall
And you may not think
I care for you
When you know down inside
That I really do

Epilogue- March 7, 2021

I took this picture on December 30, 2020 when my husband arrived home from a two-week hospitalization due to an asymptomatic case of Covid-19. This illness is so unpredictable that I thought the worst. Would he die? Would we both die? I don’t know how I survived those two weeks. Fortunately, my household staff and I tested negative for the coronavirus. But I prayed so hard that we survive this because we have so much to live for. Our coffee project is just starting. We still have to a meaningful life ahead of us. Despite all the hardships in our marriage, I would rather face them than live without the love of my life. Treasure each day with your loved ones. Celebrate life.

March 7, 1978

7 Years Later

2006

2008

25th anniversary shoot at the UP Campus, March 2010

2011

2012

2013

2014

2015

2016

2017

2018

2019

2020

December 30, 2020 – The day my husband went home from the hospital where he was confined for two weeks because of asymptomatic covid-19

02Mar 2021

Taking Care of myself

by Noemi Lardizabal-Dado ⋅ 5 Comments

After years of denial, numbing feelings of pain and all sorts of emotions, I finally came true to myself. I learned to take care of myself emotionally through practice and learning new behavioral patterns like Acting as if. I forced myself into positive recovery behaviors, disregarding my doubts and fears, until my feelings caught up with reality. I am still a work in progress, of course.

So what does it mean to take care of myself emotionally. This is what I learned from reading self-help books and seeking guidance.

1. I recognize when I’m feeling angry, and I accept that feeling without shame.

2. I recognize when I’m feeling hurt, and I accept those feelings without attempting to punish the source of my pain.

3. I allow myself to feel joy and love when those are available to me.

4. I recognize that my feelings don’t have to control me. I can feel and think too.

5. I talk to friends or family members about my feelings when I feel that it is appropriate and safe to do so.

6. I reach out for help when I get stuck in a particular emotion.

7. I try to seek the lessons that my emotions may be trying to teach me. Then after I feel, accept and release the feeling to the air, I then ask myself, “What is it I need to do to take care of myself?”

Taking care of my emotions means I allow myself to stay with the feeling until it’s time to let go and move on to the next feeling. Taking care of myself means I’ve made a decision that it is okay to own my feelings.

So my dear friend, continue to take care of yourself emotionally. It’s okay to feel angry. You have the right to be. Just be open to and accepting of the emotional part of yourself and other people. Strive for balance by mixing emotions and reason, but don’t let your intellect push the emotional part of yourself away.

Taking care of yourself emotionally means you value and cherish the emotional part of yourself. I know you will be fine. We will be fine.

Stress less.

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26Feb 2021

15 years blogging. Now adding a podcast

by Noemi Lardizabal-Dado ⋅ Leave a Comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Listen to my podcast:

19Feb 2021

The gift of laughter from my dad

by Noemi Lardizabal-Dado ⋅ 10 Comments

Every man ought to be a macho macho man,
To live a life of freedom, machos make a stand,
Have their own life style and ideals,
Possess the strength and confidence, life’s a steal,
You can best believe that he’s a macho man
He’s a special person in anybody’s land. (Village People – Macho Man)

Dad dancing Village People “Macho Man” at a Christmas Party in the late seventiesIt’s the booming laughter I remember the most. It’s a laughter that runs across the room that never failed to cheer me up. My father may have passed away 17 years ago today but his sense of humor, the laughter and the positive attitude remains alive in me.

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

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

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

Listen to my podcast of this post

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

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

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

I miss you, dad.

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