In Praise of Mother: A Legacy of a Selfless Person

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I really do not know much about Mother. My siblings have asked her numerous times to write her story. If she can’t write maybe, she can record her memoir. They gave her a recorder. Thinking that she might do it, … Continue reading

Because We Are Girls

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Because we are girls Father wants us to stay home Because we are girls Mother wants us to be free Because we are girls Father does not want us to go to school Because we are girls Mother wants us to … Continue reading

Draw me something

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“I want to be a paleontologist.” “A paleonto what?” “I love dinosaurs and I want to take care of them.” “Well, you love Barney, Bamm-Bamm and Dino in Flintstones.  That’s only cartoons; besides dinosaurs are extinct. There are no more … Continue reading

You made me….

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I felt you. You were a pea. Then a lemon. Then an eggplant. I followed advice. I read twelve books. I quit coffee.

Could you tell I was scared?

I talked to you, sang to you… I wasn’t ready.

But then you were here. Ten toes. Eight pounds. Love. Big fat love.

I held you. I fed you. I realized that I would spend my life doing things to make you happy — and that that would make me happy.

And then there are the times I want to give up. You’ve made me rethink my sanity. You’ve made me want to fall on my mother’s feet and tell her that I get it.

But then you smile and you say my name — and you grab my hand with those little fingers.

We’re growing together. We are seeing the world like it’s new. I will open my heart and love will rain down all over you. You’ll giggle, and I’ll do it all over again. And we will walk hand in hand. Until you let go.

I made you, but you made me a mother.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=gZq62c82-h4#t=4

Source

Keeping my Mother alive

“Carve your name on hearts, not tombstones. A legacy is etched into the minds of others and the stories they share about you.” ― Shannon L. Alder

Mother subscribed to “Living with Christ” that I took over when she died. I changed the mailing address and kept her name. It’s a booklet of daily mass readings.

As years go by, I noticed I started receiving other mails addressed to her.  Now, there are more mails for her than for me.  These envelopes are coming from various charitable and health organizations asking for donations.  Some mails even have greetings cards, address labels, calendars, pens, bags and other goodies.  I consider these as bribes.

motherWho on earth is keeping my Mother alive?

I know that there is an industry that collects and sells data of name and address of other people.  At the same token some organizations buy the list for solicitation purposes.  I wonder if they have any idea that some people on the list are dead.

I find it rather amusing that these organizations are totally clueless.  One envelope is from Heart and Stroke.  Do I dare tell them that Mother actually died of a massive heart attack on March 31, 2000?

Seeing all these mails for Mother is one way of keeping the memory of her alive.  I do not have the heart to return them to sender for I love receiving her mails.

Mother left us a lasting legacy of love, faith and hope.

Love is her guiding principle, faith is her foundation and hope kept her forging ahead to raise her thirteen children as a single mother.  Like most parents, she wanted the very best for her children.

Mother had a tremendous responsibility to maintain love and care for one another in our family unit. She provided a modest rented apartment as our home that is welcoming.  Even though our home is small, our friends and classmates are part of the family. There was a sense of belonging and ease.  They even call her Mother, too.

When it comes to education, Mother wanted us to focus our energy on studying since she only finished Grade 4.  Once we graduated from University, only then can we try extracurricular activities such as having a boyfriend.

Family is all about relationship of unconditional love, giving and nurturing.  She loved, gave and nurtured.  Her children came first and sacrificed her own personal wants; a very altruistic person. She set a good example and standard for me, my siblings, family, friends and community.  The community presented her an award as Mother of the Year.

When I was younger, I cannot see through what Mother is.  Only then, as I grow older and have more time to contemplate and reflect about her, I can truly say how blessed I am that she chose me to live and saved my life when I became gravely ill.  Not just me but so many others before me.  We are all lucky to have Mother.

Even though she’s no longer here on earth, we keep her legacy of love, faith and hope.  And for as long as we are alive, we will continue to speak and tell stories to the younger generations.

Wake up missing you

Nothing is stronger than the bond between mother and child.

This certainly rings true at the Leroux household in Ontario, Canada.

Their daughter loves one of her mom’s songs so much, it send her into floods of tears, every time she hears it. Mom Amanda Leroux told Storyful:

No one can explain why, not even I. I can sing any other song and do not get the same reaction from her. It’s to adorable to keep all to ourselves.

This is just beautiful.  Enjoy.

Octoberian Costume Birthday Party

Fearing that I will miss the birthday party for the month of October while I was walking the Camino, they waited until most of us are present.  We celebrated it in style: costume birthday party just in time for Halloween.

It was all start cast:  Mini Mouse, Ginger of Gillian’s Island, Captain James of Star Trek, Ghost Buster, The Venetians, Race Car Driver, Pirate, Nemo, Nurse (a real one), Lulu the gypsy fortune-teller, M&M, Pikachu, Priest (a real one) and much more.

Minie, Capt. James & Ginger

Minie, Capt. James & Ginger

The leading person who turned 60 years old is my brother who looks like David Suzuki.

Lulu, the gypsy fortune-teller is a very memorable character in our family life.  She was my mother’s friend.  How she suddenly appeared in our life remains a mystery.

Suzuki and Lulu

Suzuki and Lulu

Mother has a way of helping out people.

I remember how Mother helped Lulu take a bath.  Lulu was apparently so dirty that the water turned brown.  She doesn’t speak our language and we only spoke English to her.  She came in and out of our apartment, bee-lined to the kitchen, helped herself out on any food to eat and made herself at home even Mother was not around.  Lulu called my mom Mother as well.  Mother is Mother to everybody and everyone.

Having had her fill, she takes out her Tarot card and starts reading them.  Talking to herself mostly and suddenly, she will say, Mother is here.  Huh? No she’s not, I said.  Next thing, Mother walks in the door.  How did she do that is beyond me.

Lulu gives Mother a reading whether she likes it or not.  Mother doesn’t mind.  I don’t know if Mother believes in fortune-telling or palm reading because it is quite contrary to our belief system.

One day, Lulu read in the card that we are going far away to another land.  Mother did not believe on that either.  And it did happen.  How did she do that?

Back to the party.  The Filipino tradition, if it’s our birthday, we are responsible for throwing in the party, bring our cake and eat it, too.  We do not wait for anybody to throw us a surprise party.  We do not wait for anybody.  We let the whole world knows that it’s our birthday and we invite as many people as we can to help us celebrate.  Celebrate we did.

As for my costume, I wore my hiking gear; boots, poles, backpack, hat, waterproof jacket and pants, iPad in a red leader pouch,  a camera, gloves, sunglasses, water bottle, etc.  Gosh, cannot believe I carried these for 15 days.  Eventually, I had to divest myself since it was boiling inside the house with all these characters and cooking going at the same time.

The Pilgrim

The Pilgrim

The cake is always gigantic.  There was no blowing of the candles because most of us are sick of colds and we definitely want to keep the germs to ourselves.

Birthday Cake

Good times, good times.  Happy Birthday to us.

Related link: Tenth month of the year

Whispering Hope

It felt like summer for the first week of April 2000.  I think I’ll go visit Mother since it’s a good day to go for a walk.  Mother is just down the hill. 
Soft as the voice of an angel,
Breathing a lesson unheard,
Hope with a gentle persuasion
Whispers her comforting word. 
The hill is a long winding steep road.  Meandering around and walking by Deer Lake Park.  It is such a beautiful preserve nature land.  Birds are singing in the air, the floral scent of the Cherry blossoms lingers, the road is devoid of vehicles. 
Wait till the darkness is over,
Wait till the tempest is done,
Hope for the sunshine tomorrow,
After the shower is gone. 
When I entered where Mother was, I was expecting there were will be some of my siblings, relatives or friends keeping her company.  She was all by herself.  I quietly sat in front of her and said: Hi Mother.  I’m here to keep you company. 
Whispering hope, oh how welcome thy voice
Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice. 
It’s far too quite here, Mother.  I hope you don’t mind me talking or better yet, maybe I’ll sing to you.  I grab a book full of songs.  Most of them I am unfamiliar with the tune with the exception of Whispering Hope. 
If in the dusk of the twilight,
Dim be the region afar,
Will not the deepening darkness
Brighten the glimmering star? 
I sang it as softly as I could in order not to attract any attention.  I can see that there are other people in the adjacent room. 
Then when the night is upon us,
Why should the heart sink away?
When the dark midnight is over,
Watch for the breaking of day. 
Suddenly, it dawned on me: here I am singing in front of a closed coffin.  I don’t even know who is inside the coffin.  What if this coffin belongs to the people next door?   I stood up, went to the coffin and quietly lifted the upper lid. 
Whispering hope, oh how welcome thy voice
Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice. 
Thank God, it’s Mother.  I went back to the pew and started singing again from the top.  I’m glad I have this one and one with you Mother.  
I love and miss you.
 
Related Links:
 

If this is not love, then what is?

When it comes to perfect love, I can only think of my Mother.  
Mother has so much love to share.  The story of Mother’s love is no different from others but in my mind, of course, is the best. 
Everybody calls her Mother: her siblings, my family and our friends. 
What kind of love did Mother shared?  These are collective stories shared by one generation to another generation. 
Mother gave up her own education in order to take care of her younger brother.  She reached Grade 4.  Why on earth would a young mind give up her future for a younger brother?  Don’t they have anybody to take care of my Uncle?  The family is rich, for one.  They can afford to hire a nursemaid.  But that is beside the point.  Mother took care of her brother. 
Mother married a soldier.  They had four children and their father died at a young age, cancer of the lungs.  Widowed young with four children.  Who would marry her now?  Who would take care of the children?  During those days, fathers are the one who is a provider.  Enter my Father. 
It was a whirl wind romance.  Father married Mother and he adopted all four children.  Mother must have been an extra ordinary person for Father to fall in love head over hills with Mother. 
Investigating how my parents met, I’ve asked my Uncles.  They didn’t even know that Mother married again.  No wedding pictures to show off.  
Father is a beautiful man, a woman’s man.  He must have been a good provider to my Mother because he was a Civil Engineer.  He travelled to remote places to build roads and bridges.  Being away from home, there must have been so much activity in the bedroom because they procreate 9 times.  In total, there are 13 of us including my half-brother and three half-sisters. 
On top of that, I heard there are other siblings outside the marriage.  Mother went through extremes of getting to know this family.  She helped them.  Why on earth would Mother do such a thing when Father was philandering outside the marriage? 
Then Father died.  We are left with Mother’s love. 
The love of Mother does not end there. 
When there are children born out of wed lock in our family, Mother will search for them and bring the children to the family.  I heard that Mother bought (yes, paid for) one child from the mother in order to bring up the child properly. 
The house we lived was only a two bedroom apartment.  People come and go.  My siblings’ friends call her Mama Chuchi.  It was full of life and love even though we were poor. 
Mother helped young women  by teaching them how to sew.  Mother paid for their work even though they lived in our tiny apartment and received free board and lodging.  It was a symbiotic relationship.  One remained with us until to this date.  We managed to take her to Canada and she is my 14th sibling.  She and I grew up together. 
I don’t recall hearing Mother say to me: “I love you, Lady”.  No. 
Words are not important for Mother.  She laid her life not just for me but for everyone.  Mother’s love is based on her faith. 
If this is not love, then what is? 
“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”
 
Related link: Weekly Writing Challenge:  Love in the 21st Century

Mother’s vs. Father’s Day

In May, we celebrated Mother’s day.  On June 16, it will be Father’s day celebration. 
I just don’t understand these kinds of celebrations.  Why not just have one BIG celebration and call it Parent’s day.  But of course, because of the nuclear family, there could be just one parent.  That could be a Mom or a Dad since there are so many single parents today. 
Also, parenthood could mean Mom and Mom or Dad and Dad.  It’s not so simple anymore. 
Actually, I am a bit perturbed about this.  
There is no Auntie Day.  None!  And that is just not fair at all. 
When it come to advertisements, paying attention to these pictures, they don’t make sense to me. 
Mother's Day Ad

Mother’s Day Ad

For Mothers – “I wouldn’t be me if you hadn’t been you.  Thanks, Mom.”  Mothers carry the eggs; Fathers carry the sperm.  Doesn’t it take millions of sperms in order for me to become me?  How many sperms fought and died in the process in order to form me?
Father's Day Ad

Father’s Day Ad

For Fathers – “This Father’s Day, get Dad brewing.”  I think this is how men became alcoholics.  This ad is a sobering truth. 
To all Fathers, have a fun-filled day.   Happy Father’s Day.
Father

Father

And this is my one and only picture of my Father.
 
 

Mothers, Thank you.

Mother.  That is what I call her, Mother.  Not just me, also my siblings and her siblings.  She is a Mother to everyone and everybody. 
She was once given an award as Mother of the Year back in the Philippines.  And I am in search for this award since it was lost in the shuffle due to many movements in our lives. 
I have a second Mother that my Mother prayed for Her intercession so that my life be spared.  Her name is Our Lady of Perpetual Help and my Mother named me after her.  She is the Mother of Jesus Christ. 
The portrait of Mother painted by my brother, Danny, and an Icon of Our Lady of Perpetual Help. 

 
Related Link:

Not just for Mothers

Mother’s day does not make sense to anyone who is not a mother, like me for example.  But I always consider myself a mother because of caring for others.  When it comes to caring, then we should include anyone who loves. 
Now, the way to do this is play the music below, the lyric is all laid out for you to sing along.  You may want to look who is in the picture should you feel like it.  Enjoy. 
L is for the way you look at me
O is for the only one I see
V is very, very extraordinary
E is even more than anyone that you adore 
and 
Love is all that I can give to you
Love is more than just a game for two
Two in love can make it
Take my heart and please don’t break it
Love was made for me and you 
L is for the way you look at me
O is for the only one I see
V is very, very extraordinary
E is even more than anyone that you adore 
and 
Love is all that I can give to you
Love is more than just a game for two
Two in love can make it
Take my heart and please don’t break it 
Love was made for me and you 
Love was made for me and you
Love was made for me and you 

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                      M-O-T-H-E-R
“M” is for the million things she gave me,
O” means only that she’s growing old,
“T” is for the tears she shed to save me,
H” is for her heart of purest gold;
“E” is for her eyes, with love-light shining,
“R” means right, and right she’ll always be,
Put them all together, they spell

“MOTHER,”

A word that means the world to me.

Now I Know

How well do we really know a person even though we live with them for most of our lives?  Do you?  Well, I don’t, I must admit. 
Mother and I lived together for a long time yet I hardly know her.  We may live in the same roof but that doesn’t mean we share our thoughts.  Mother is excellent in giving us our autonomy.  It is very important to her that we are our own person. 
Here’s another question.  Do you know where you draw your strength from?  Strength could mean your physical, mental or spiritual being.  I’m sure that there are so many ways where you can gather your strength from. 
As for my Mother, this is a piece of her story.  To read, the story, please click on the image. 

 
Related links:

Today is Your Birthday

When it comes to birthday celebrations, we celebrate with gusto even though the birthday celebrant is absent in body, however, we know the spirit is there.  
Yesterday, we celebrated Mother’s birthday but today is her official birthday.  Weekday is hard to get together due to school and work.  Should Mother still be alive, it will be her 93rd year.   
The most wonderful birthday celebration we did for Mother was when we gave her a surprise one.  We rented the church hall and invited her siblings and their children, family friends and anybody who knows Mother.  Mother has a big circle of friends and the hall was full.  To keep this as a big secret was a challenge but we succeeded.  Or maybe, Mother was just playing along so that we don’t get disappointed.  Well, it doesn’t matter, it was fun. 
What I remembered the most was this part. The grandchildren all came out bearing a rose to present to Mother.  Mother loves roses.  There must have been 14 little feet marching towards Mother.  It was delight to see how happy Mother seeing her precious grandchildren with a rose on hand.  Good times, good times. I treasure this memory.  
Apparently, we gave Mother a trophy. This part, slipped away from my memory.  Thanks to my niece, Nicole who remembers it and she has the trophy.  Ta-dah, here is Mother’s Trophy.  She celebrated her 70th year. 

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Mother, wherever you are, we thank you for the gift of life and we love you.  From your children and grandchildren.  
As for the birthday song, I play this for everybody.  Happy Birthday, Mother. 

We are Easter People

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This year will be extra special in celebrating Easter.  Not only that we are celebrating the real sense of Jesus’ resurrection; we, my family that is, will be celebrating our Mother’s 13th year of her death anniversary.  And it falls on Easter!

Being a Catholic, we are Easter People.  We celebrate death filled with hope that we will be resurrected and finally be where we are supposed to be; with God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit; and with all the Saints and choirs of Angels.

Sister #5 asked me to write something about Mother.  As much as I want to, Sister #2 mentioned that she wants to write about her journey and Mother.  With that thought in mind, I declined because I don’t want to steal my sister’s thunder.

Instead, I compiled some pictures and memorabilia that I can find for the family to look at.  This is a good place for safekeeping for now because my notes are all over the place and I tend to throw or give away pictures.  Maybe, just maybe, I will gradually write something about this.

My readers, I wish you ALL a Blessed Easter and here are some of the ways of the Easter People.  If you are not a Catholic, replace the last item according to your belief system.

  •        Cling to the people who love you
  •        Remember who you are
  •        Don’t wait for the other shoe to drop
  •        Bring joy to the world
  •        Breathe in the Holy Spirit

 

Related Article:

Being Born – A Gift

I know I am just passing through in this life, a pilgrim.  This is not my home.  I should have not been born as I mentioned in my post My hero.  
A lot of people had a surreal experience.  It just a matter of being aware or in tuned to what is happening in your body and out of your body. 
To cite an example, when I was just a little girl, I was having an afternoon siesta.  It’s a requirement that children must have a good afternoon rest.  My older siblings will ensure that we take a nap. 
As I lay asleep, I was looking down at my body sleeping like a baby and my other self is up on the ceiling attached by a golden thread.  It was scary for a mere child and I said to myself, bring me back to my body, Now!  Whump!  I’m back, opened my eyes, felt a tremendous headache.  That was my first awareness. 
It happens all the time, I just have to keep myself grounded otherwise, I will be floating in air.  People call me crazy, who cares.  It’s a gift.  It’s nothing new.  Look at all those great people such as Carl Jung, William Blake, Gopi Krishna, Padre Pio, Dag Hammarskjold, etc. who have such gift. 
Let me share with you what Dag wrote titled Markings: 
I don’t know who or what put the question
I don’t know when it was put
I don’t even remember answering
But at that moment
I did answer Yes
To Someone or something
And from that hour
I was certain
That existence is meaningful
And that, therefore my life,
Is self-surrender
Had a goal. 
Think about this. 
This is in response to Daily Prompt: Surreal.  Come and join us, you’ll discover who you are.

Show and Tell

This is in response to Daily Prompt: Teachable Moment. You have to learn a new skill. Do you prefer to read about it, watch someone else does it, hear someone describe it, or try it yourself? 
From time to time, at work, we are cross trained and switch duties.  
At the beginning of this year, I switched duties with someone in our team.  As for teachable moments, all of the above is how I learn.  Just reading the “how to manual of procedures” doesn’t cut it, because the manual is written after the fact that it has been tried. 
Even people in higher level, when I explain a certain process to them, I’m asked “show me”.  If nobody shows me the proper process, I am bound to make mistakes at work.  And I could easily say “not my fault, I wasn’t trained or nobody told me”.  I dislike saying this statement; therefore, all of the above.  Show and tell; then read the manual. 
I just remembered a beautiful poem about when children learn and here it is: 
Children Learn What They Live 
If a child lives with criticism, he learns to condemn
If a child lives with hostility, he learns to fight
If a child lives with fear, he learns to be apprehensive
If a child lives with pity, he learns to feel sorry for himself
If a child lives with ridicule, he learns to be shy
If a child lives with jealousy, he learns to feel guilt
BUT
If a child lives with tolerance, he learns to be patient
If a child lives with encouragement, he learns to be confident
If a child lives with praise, he learns to be appreciative
If a child lives with acceptance, he learns to love
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves
If a child lives with honesty, he learns what truth is
If a child lives with fairness, he learns justice
If children live with recognition, they learn to have a goal
If children live with sharing, they learn to be generous
If a child lives with security, he learns to have faith in himself and those about him
If a child lives with friendliness, he learns the world is a nice place in which to live 
WITH WHAT IS YOUR CHILD LIVING
 

Source: Circle of Moms

 

Mother Earth

I love Mother Earth and for this reason I became an activist in so many ways. 
Indulge me on this one: carbon footprints, zero mile diet, recycling, bike to work, think green, nature of things, save the children, etc. 
To put things in perspective, I cannot save the whole world.  I know I can do one thing for myself and Mother Earth.  I gave up my freedom to fully go where ever I go, when I want.  My car. 
This decision was a difficult one.  In order for me to make a decision, I always think “two things”, a choice.  Asking myself what do I want to give up in order to make a positive impact to Mother Earth and humanity:  Cigarettes or Car = 2Cs. I have divulged this information about me in my post about Pilgrims Progress and Flawed: Guilty. 
Listing the pros and cons, they are both cons.  What about the lesser of two evils, they are both evils.  What is easier?  Car it is.  
What made me choose the car?  The pollution: all that carbon in the air that is killing the plants and animals.  Greenhouse effect is what the scientists call it.  The oil and gas industry is a greedy corporate industry.  Think of Athabasca Tar Sands that is happening in Canada.  Oh, don’t get me going on this Daily Prompt.  My blood is boiling at this minute early in the morning. 
People are so righteous when it comes to smoking, even the government. When people see me smoke, I hear nasty remarks and poor attitudes, they are holier than thou.  I ask them: Do you drive a car?  Huh? is their response.  What does car got to do with cigarettes?  Do you have time to listen to me while I smoke in front of you?  No, is the response.  Then stay away from me and keep on walking.  I am killing myself when it comes to smoking, I know that.  You have no idea what I gave up for Mother Earth! 
There’s one less car now in Vancouver.  Mine. 
This is in response to Daily Prompt: Global.  Come and join us, it’s fun.
 

Little Things Mean a Lot

As I sip my coffee this morning, I looked around taking stock of what little that I have in my sanctuary.  I have already shared with you how small Room 306 is in my previous post. 
Come to think about it, there are a few items that are irreplaceable that has so much memories attached to it.  Little things mean a lot that money cannot buy. 
Mother kept this one and only letter that I wrote to her when I was just a mere child.  I only found this when we were going through her belongings when she died.  I should really move this to the bank’s safety deposit box. 
There is a pencil sketch of me that another pilgrim did, he was a Franciscan priest.  I was actually surprised when he called me to sit for him.  Hmm… my dirty mind working.  Mea culpa, he meant well. 
A cutting of the “bamboo plant”, Mother started this as single piece of stick.  Now it has grown big, bloomed and I have given away some cuttings for others.  This is the “Mother” plant.  But then again, how am I going to carry this out. 
I have an altar that has a couple of items that belongs to Mother; they are antiques of Madonna, Our Lady of Perpetual Help and Our Lady of Lourdes.  Mother has a devotion to Our Lady. 
Finally, I want to keep Mother’s fur coat.  I know, fur coat is now passé.  Wearing this occasionally makes me feel the warmth of Mother’s arms around me. 
Wishful thinking in response to Daily Prompt: Burnt.  Come and join us, it’s fun.

The Power of Love

This morning, I responded to Daily Prompt: Burning down the house.  Should you wish to read my post, it’s titled What Matters Most. 
Since the post is about fire, I would like to share this story that I received via e-mail that has been passed around.  
And the story goes: 
During an early morning response to a house fire in Santa Rose de Temuco, Chile, fire fighters witnessed the unbelievable. A mother dog risked her life to save her puppies from the fire surrounding the burning house, which started because of a car bomb.

The mother dog, Amanda, raced back and forth between the house, putting her 10 day old puppies in the safest place she could find – a fire truck!

She didn’t stop racing back into the fire until all of her puppies were safely away from the fire.  The firemen on scene could not believe their eyes. Most people have never seen a dog this smart or this brave!

 After rescuing all of her pups from the blaze, Amanda sat down next to them, protecting them with her body.  Onlookers called an emergency veterinary service and she and her pups were rushed to the hospital.  Aside from one puppy being treated for serious burns, the entire family are alive and well – thanks to the bravery of Amanda! What a heroic mother!

Isn’t this story amazing – The Power of Love.

Death, A Trip of a Lifetime

75 years old is my cut-off.  Take it or leave it.  I just don’t want God to forget all about me and let me live till the turn of the next century. 
I have discussed this with my sisters what I want to wear in the casket.  It will be my red dress that Mother made for me when I was in my twenties and still fits me.  The dress has been used by my sisters and nieces, and I keep on telling them to take good care of it because I need it for my burial gown.  
On the checklist is the reading at the mass, what songs to play (happy songs, please), no black dress in the funeral, cremation and of course, the Last Will and Testament. 
There, I am ready, any time, take me home. 
As for the Requiem, vengeance is mine.  I want to surprise them with an envelope to be read in the church should the priest allow it.  And at the end, one slide show, a pre-recorded  of my  last statement and a projection of my beautiful smile. 
The reading would be about Beatitudes, the teaching of Jesus Christ that in my opinion replaces the Ten Commandments of Moses.  
Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted
Blessed are the meek; for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness; for they shall be filled.
Blessed are the merciful; for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart; for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall be called the children of God. 
And in my pre-recorded voice: Lunch on me, let’s party and dance. And a smile.  Let’s move to the church hall. 
 
 This is in response to Daily Prompt: Write your own Eulogy.  Come and join us, it’s fun.
 
Read this:
Enjoy every moment you can

A Letter for the Grieving

Hi Uncle Cee:
 
I was pondering on what you wrote about the Holy Mother; how it helped you deal with losing the love of your life. And was reflecting on Mama Mary how she dealt with grief. 
  • What was grieving like for her?
  • How long did she grieve, when did she recover and what methods did she use?
  • Who were the people who supported her during that time?
  • How did she continue living life without Jesus Christ, losing the love of her life?
  • What was it like for her to see the love of her life, Jesus Christ, suffered, crucified, put to death and buried?
Grief somehow opens up more questions.  Just like you, I questioned God and still do: WHY?  Why can’t you just take away Jan right now, why can’t you give her what she wants right now, Jan wants to die right now.  For years, 5 or longer, I watched Jan deteriorate, withering away, angry at God. Divine Retribution she says.  I say the God I know is loving, kind and merciful. 
Jan asked me to take her to a place to be euthanized.  My response was that she is not a cat; I can’t help her. Morbid sense of humour but Jan likes the blackness of it. Did God answer my questions, maybe He did.  Did I hear what God was whispering to the ears of my heart?  No. I was too busy listening to Jan and my heart ached for Jan. 
When I shared the Celebration of Life for Jan, I know I have arrived to that peaceful place where I can think of her fondly.  No tears, somehow tears won’t come and my heart is glowing with sweet surrender. 
How strange this grief I have for Jan in comparison to the death of my Mother.  And I know the next time someone dies close to my heart; it will be a different experience; for nothing can prepare me how I will feel.  I would have thought that since I welcome death as part of living, since I have taken cared of people with AIDs, since I have been trained to volunteer and counsel in the Hospice of St. Michael, I am well equipped.  Not really, I just have to have to go through it and enjoy the ride. 
I am alright, Uncle Cee.  Thank you for your help, prayers and concerns.  I hope I may be an instrument to your peace. I am here just a click away.  
Pax tecum.  Perpetua 
This is in response to DP Challenge: Writing Challenge Starting Over.   It’s fun.  Come and join us.

DP: Helpless – Lost Generation

 “Helplessness: that dull, sick feeling of not being the one at the reins. When did you last feel like that –- and what did you do about it?”
It’s now day three that I am under the weather.
I am so sick and tired of being sick with coughing, sneezing and dull achy feeling.  Living alone does not help.  I feel so alone in this world.  I want my mommy.
The weather is uncooperative.  It has been raining for a week now, cold miserable winter day.  I am so bored all cooped up at home.  It’s so depressing looking at the weather.  I want the Sun.
Be patient.  This too shall pass.  It’s hard to be patient being sick with colds.  I know I’m not the only one suffering with this blooming cold.  I caught this from commuting, from work, from who knows.  No point of blaming.  I just have to have a lot of patience.  Where can I buy patience?
What am I going to do about?  I will cook more chicken noodle soup, cuddle up with my cats and a dose of hope from the Lost Generation.
 

DP: The Early Years – In my dreams

“Write page three of your autobiography” 
Chapter One – Where is Father? 
Page one:
Wednesday child is full of woe, so the saying goes, but life itself is full of woes. I was born on a Wednesday…. 
Page two:
What’s wrong with this baptismal picture?  Mother is carrying me, she is so beautiful…. Where is Father…? 
Page three:
The house I lived in Davao City, Philippines.  It’s a beautiful big house and darkness envelopes my little brain.  Dark and alone in the mezzanine, I was looking down at the wooden bars.  Can’t see what’s down below but I can see myself sitting on the wooden flooring.  A doll in my arm made of plastic and hairless.  One eye missing, the other eye closed as if it’s sleeping with long black lashes.  The arms are movable as well as the legs.  The head can turn 360 degrees around just like the head of the girl in horror show Exorcist.  It’s a hand me down doll from my other six sisters, I am the youngest amongst the girls.  Why am I alone in the dark?  Have I just woken up or am I sick?  Where is everybody, yet I silently sit in the dark, not a whimper came out from my innocent lips? 
Another image:  I was standing at the foot of the bed starring in excitement at this small baby lying in the middle of a humongous bed.  My youngest brother, he is Brother Number 6.  Brother 4 and Brother 5 were standing beside me.  I was suffering from a cold and mucous.  Being sick, I have to stay away from a newly born baby.  Mother does not want the baby to catch my colds.  A mucous started dripping from my nose.  I stuck my tongue out, curled it upwards and licked the slippery white substance to clean off the upper part of my lips.  It’s salty and thick. 
 Where is Father? 
  
  “Lady, I’m lonely.  Come and stay with me.”  Grandma asked.  I obeyed Grandma’s request for I was terrified of her.  I climbed into her coffin.  One of my legs is already in the coffin and Father showed up.  “Lady, go home.  Mother needs you.”  Then I woke up.  Father came to visit me, in my dream.

WPC: 2012 Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind

Pick the best pictures from your 2012 and have those pictures tell everyone about your year 
Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind.  
These are what matters to me in 2012.  From life to death.  New Year should always start with new beginnings, a new life.  But year 2012 stared with someone dear to me being called back Home.  Not just dear friends but dear companions, the Cats in my life.  Angels I call them now.  From sorrow to joy, with the birth of my nephew’s son, this is a delightful surprise.   Baby James is a new life and a beautiful beginning for the year 2013 not just for me but for everyone in my family.  
Shalom Aleichem.  To Life! 

 

Daily Prompt: Dear Mom, Life got in the way

Write a letter to your mom. Tell her something you’ve always wanted to say, but haven’t been able to. 

This is a bitter-sweet prompt.  I will tell you the sweet part first. 

As much as possible I try not to hold back my love, what I have to say and do what needs to be done to make Mother happy.  And I did, that was on February 14, 2000. 

Having just returned from a Mexican pilgrimage, I had a brilliant idea to start sharing my pilgrim experience.  The best way to do that was to throw Valentine’s party and celebrate Father’s death anniversary to surprise Mother.  But of course, I had an ulterior motive; to write a “blog” in longhand. I do not own a typewriter nor a computer then.  My family will be the guinea pig for my first “blog.”  All of my siblings came with their children.  It was a successful party.  Mother was thrilled. This is sweet.  Everybody received the “blog.”  No reactions from my siblings, I wasn’t happy.  Mother enjoyed the “blog.”  This is sweet.

When the party was over, everybody went on their merry way. Somehow, life got in the way; work that is. A few weeks later, Mother called me at work:  “Lady, come and visit me.”  I said, “Yes Mother.  I will be there for the weekend.”  I didn’t.  I forgot. The following week, my phone rang early in the morning.  It was my sister.  “Lady, Mother died this morning.”  That was March 31, 2000. This is bitter. 

Now, if I’ll write this letter, will she be able to read it? 

My Dearest Mother,
        I am so Sorry. 
        Please forgive me for not coming to visit when I said yes. 
                                                                                         I love you.  Lady

 

Daily Prompt: My Hero! – When I grow Up, I want to be just like you!

Tell us about your hero.

When I grow up, I want to be just like you said my niece to me lovingly as if she was looking at an angel at a tender age of under 10 years.  Children don’t know how to lie, just yet, they are open and honest; children have 20/20 vision, they can see an angel.  Ah, such sweet innocence as pure as driven snow.

I felt so vain, I am her HERO.  HOLD THAT THOUGHT FOR A MINUTE! No, don’t even think about it, NEVER!  When you grow up, you are going to be YOU!

Modesty aside, I am the hero not just to my niece also to my nephews, other nieces and younger generations since I am Auntie Mame to them.  Now they are all grown up, matured and have a place on this earth, their views have changed.  I am pretty sure if I’ll ask them who their hero is, it won’t be me.  Oh well, such as life.

Turning that question inwardly: asking, musing, pondering, thinking, talking to myself; who is your hero, Lady? The answer, really honestly and seriously.  I can easily say that my Mother Lucia is my hero for she gave birth to me.  She fought for my life when I was being conceived in her tiny womb.  I should have not been born.  The fetus is self-abortive says the doctor.  You will lose the baby.  Mother has such great strong faith and determination.  She wants me to come into this world for she loves me.  She prayed hard to all the angels and saints; to Our Lady of Perpetual Help for her intercession.  Should my life be spared, Mother will name the baby after Her.  What?  How does she know if it will be a baby girl?  What if it’s a boy?  Our Lord of Perpetual Peter Pan?

TADA, fast forward, 55 years later. Here I am at WordPress, pressing the words about my hero.  Long have I been waiting for this moment to speak boldly who my hero is.  I must say I am a little bit concerned that I may be laughed at should I tell you the 5Ws of my hero.  But I will stick to the rule: WHO.

I have so many heroes, not just one. My heroes are those little things that we seem to take for granted.  My heroes are those that saved my life aside from my Mother Lucia.  The most recent episode in my life, they are Lady Bugs, Hummingbirds, mustard seeds.  They saved my life and sanity.  And I am sure there will be more little things to come.

All kidding aside, my real hero based on my faith is nothing but a little child, Baby Jesus Christ.  He saved not just my life. He came to this world to save the world and mankind. Should you want to know the story of Baby Jesus, Google it!

Mary’s Boy Child Jesus Christ (song)

My Hero: Baby Lord Jesus Christ

My Hero: Baby Lord Jesus Christ