Tweet Follow me in twitter @momblogger.So if someone says to us, by word or by action, “You should be over
that by now,” we can recall the words from the Talmud: “Judge no one
before you have been in his place.”

When people ask how many kids I have, I always say three children and pretty soon, the question goes on details like “are they in school”, “how old are they?” If I am not in the mood, I just say two children because the conversation will always lead to my son’s whereabouts. The moment I say my third child died 10 years ago, I feel a sense of discomfort.

More often than not “you’ve moved on , right?” , or “you found closure already?”

If a well-meaning friend said something inappropriate with respect to Luijoe’s death, I would try to focus on the intent of the comment instead of the comment itself. Maybe, my friend just didn’t know what to say.

Move on. It is just a chapter in the past but don’t close the book, just turn the page. – Unknown

Moving on does not mean closure…

However when they are acquaintances, I find it terribly annoying. The word “closure” carries with it an underlying message of impatience: “OK,” the person appears to be saying, “it’s time to get over it.”

Am I being overly sensitive? Perhaps.

It is not just me though. In meetings with the Compassionate Friends, the word “closure” bothers most parents. The “c word,” seemed to push all our buttons.

It is understandable that our friends feel uneasy in the presence of pain. How they wish they can take away our grief. That’s okay. But bereaved parents resent the implication of failure or self-absorption if one can’t adhere to a recovery schedule.

We do, in our own individual ways, gradually get better at bearing our loss. Mainly, the pain simply softens with the passage of time. Moving on means that we live a new normal never forgetting the love and memories of our beloved.

Ashley Davis Prend says that closure is not for people we love or for feelings.

Closure simply does not exist emotionally, not in a pure sense. We cannot close the door on the past as if it didn’t exist because, after losing someone dear to us, we never forget that person or the love we shared. And in some ways, we never entirely get over the loss. We learn to live with the loss, to integrate it into our new identity.

Imagine if we really could end this chapter in our life, completely. It would mean losing our memories, our connections to those we love. If we really found closure, it would ironically hurt even more because the attachment would be severed. And this attachment is vital to us—the memories are treasures to be held close, not closed out.

Perhaps it is better to think in terms of healing. Yes, we can process our pain and move to deeper and deeper levels of healing. Yes, we can find ways to move on and channel our pain into productive activities. Yes, we can even learn to smile again and laugh again and love again.

I have not closed the door on what my loss meant, for if I did that, I would inadvertently close the door on all the love that Luijoe and I shared. And that would truly be a loss too terrible to bear.
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You might also want to read Positive Mental Energy and Affirmations and my other blogs like Free Filipino Food Recipes, Shopping Finds, Pinoy Food Photo Blog and Techie Gadgets. Or Follow me in twitter @momblogger.

How about visiting my Beauty over 50 blog?

Hope you can drop by! Thanks for visiting…Noemi Lardizabal-Dado.

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Luijoe meadow somewhere in the North, where his grandparents live today

A few years ago a highly rated and popular TV magazine contacted my husband and I to share our painful experience and grief recovery for their “Holy Week” feature. The theme centered on “The Seven Last Words” and our story will focus on one of those last words. You all know how we want to help others who are still struggling with their pain on the loss of their child so they may find hope. Much as I shun appearing on TV and doing interviews, I do it if it will help others. Now the problem with this show was that they wanted to do an reenactment.

My children immediately yelled “NO!” “We don’t want any crappy actors to play us…ugh..ugh . ewww…”

Of course, we didn’t want to go back in time and re-enact how Luijoe died…or how I nearly separated from my husband or how our family turned into shambles during the darkest time of our grief.

How does one reconcile our mission with our privacy?

I asked the production assistant “is the re-enactment really necessary? We have photos of my son…. that should be enough to bring out the pain of losing our child”

He replied that “actors will play your part”

That’s just it, our story in itself is already filled with so much pain. It doesn’t need to be dramatized or sensationalized. The public viewers are not stupid. Really.

Simply put, we rejected the reenactment. Perhaps they found other families that were willing to subject themselves to the reenactment. With or without the TV interview and reenactment, one of Jesus’ Seven Last Words ring true to my heart.

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

You see, the Holy Week is one of the most memorable of the year. Being a “cafeteria Catholic” my religious faith was at best mediocre. Luijoe, my innocent and religious 6 year old son often chastised me for not praying hard enough . I felt like a terrible mother who led a ho-hum religious existence. Gosh, we learn so much from our children , don’t we? It is the Holy Week which reminds me of my son. The image of the dying Jesus when he blurted out ” “Woman, behold thy son… Behold thy mother” struck a chord in my son’s heart.

Luijoe photo taken at Luijoe meadow during Holy Week 2000

Every night, Luijoe pointed to that image asking me over and over again what it meant. He pointed to John the Beloved “Who is he? How is he related to the Mother of Jesus?” Strange he asked about John. I cuddled Luijoe in my arms and explained that the dying Jesus wanted John the Beloved to take care of his grieving mother. How was I to know that my own son would die the following weeks? During the funeral, I remember those last words and took it literally to mean that my family or my friends would take care of me in my bereavement, that there would be “John the Beloved” who will help me.

When a death as devastating as the loss of a child hits you, one tries to find meaning. One tries to make sense out of it. The time came when I realized that those last words were not about me. It was about me helping those who are in pain , because the grief journey is not easy. My son made sure that I would not be alone in this journey as long as I continue to help others. He made sure I remember to be the “John the Beloved” and be compassionate to other people’s pain.

I look back and reflect on that poignant scene. It is my son’s way of reminding me that I will find comfort and still be a comfort to others:

He who was nailed to the cross, wanted to spare His mother further pain—- not only for that moment, but for her entire future. He put her in the care of the apostle whom “He loved” and whom He knew would care for her in return. Even as Jesus was dying, He went beyond himself to addresses someone else’s need.

Luijoe meadow at night, taken by Sean, my brother-in-law 2010 Christmas day

The Seven Last Words remind me of my son who died so young yet I know he continues to live in me through my work, my actions and devotion. Luijoe is with me everyday.

Here is something soothing:
Mozart Ave Verum Corpus por Leonard Bernstein
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You might also want to read Positive Mental Energy and Affirmations and my other blogs like Free Filipino Food Recipes, Shopping Finds, Pinoy Food Photo Blog and Techie Gadgets. Or Follow me in twitter @momblogger.

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Hope you can drop by! Thanks for visiting…Noemi Lardizabal-Dado.

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“What if?” “If only…” and “Why Me?” are words that ring true when faced with unimaginable loss.

A traumatic death shatters the world. It is often a loss that does not make sense. Life is not always fair and that sometimes bad things happen to good people. The sudden death leaves us feeling shaken, unsure and vulnerable. Losing someone you love is not an easy journey. Each one will surely face its own grief journey in their own unique way.

My husband and I watched “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” yesterday because we know it deals about death. Anyone that is faced with devastating loss can relate to lost souls who are in a process of traumatic recovery. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close tells the unflinching story of a boy trying to make sense of the world after his father perishes in 9/11.

After a year of his father’s death from 9/11, eleven year old Oskar ventures to his father’s closet and finds a key in a small brown envelope labeled “Black” within the blue vase. The boy, who shakes a tambourine to calm himself embarks on a “reconnaissance expedition” in which he contacts every single person named Black in New York’s five boroughs. It is not mere trivia Oskar yearns to conquer but inside, it is the quest to find the meaning of life (and death) itself. He goes on a relentless quest to open a lock that he believes will reveal a message from his father that will help him make sense of a senseless world.

While this story is about the unimaginable loss as 9/11, it made me think about my own loss in life…the death of my mother, my two brothers, my precious 6 year old son, then my father. All five family members.

How does one make sense about the death of a loved one? In the process of seeking the answers, the search for meaning of the loss can challenge a survivor’s religious and spiritual beliefs. Survivors are forced to look at and re-evaluate life priorities. I feel the pain of Oskar’s frustration in trying to reconnect with his dead father.

Trying to make sense of or understand sudden losses can be difficult. Survivors are left asking “Why?” “Why did this happen?” Yet events such as the September 11, 2001 tragedy were beyond anyone’s control; they are a sudden, unexplainable loss.

It is human nature to want to answer the question “Why?” yet it may be difficult if not impossible to find an answer. Instead the question “Why?” is more of a plea for meaning and understanding. The thoughts of Rabbi Earl Grollman provide a useful perspective for coping with this difficult question:

Now death has shaken your faith, “Why?” “Why must life be one of sorrow?” “Why?” There are no pat answers. No one completely understands the mystery of death. Even if the question were answered, Would your pain be eased, your loneliness less terrible?

“Why” may be more than a question. It may be an agonizing cry for a heart-breaking loss, an expression of distress, disappointment, bewilderment, alienation, and betrayal. There is no answer that bridges the chasm of irreparable separation. There is no satisfactory response for an unresolvable dilemma. Not all questions have complete answers. Unanswered “Why’s” are part of life. The search may continue but the real question might be “How [do I] pick up the pieces and go on living as meaningful as possible?”

One day, we find out there is no use making sense of death but there is hope in making sense of our life. It is best ask to “What can I do about it now?” “How can I help?” or “How do I pick up the pieces and go on living as meaningful as possible?”

All of these thoughts came back to me as I watched this film. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, the movie is a wonderful and moving story about coping the death of a loved one.

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You might also want to read Positive Mental Energy and Affirmations and my other blogs like Free Filipino Food Recipes, Shopping Finds, Pinoy Food Photo Blog and Techie Gadgets. Or Follow me in twitter @momblogger.

How about visiting my Beauty over 50 blog?

Hope you can drop by! Thanks for visiting…Noemi Lardizabal-Dado.

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Tweet Follow me in twitter @momblogger.Shielding myself from the scorching sun, I clutched on to my umbrella and looked down towards the smooth bermuda grass. My eyes linger to the engraved markings staring back at me , “Luijoe, my angel”.

“Mom are those weeds?” a daughter pointed to the tiny yellow flowers dotted at the top of his tombstone.

“I planted those so Luijoe will always have flowers cradled around his resting place”, I explained.

My husband knelt down and laid down a vase of mums as my other daughter carried another umbrella to shield him from the sun. We all stood there staring at the flowers and I couldn’t help feeling proud, “this is my family”. I took my iPhone and took a snapshot. Four pairs of feet beside Luijoe’s tombstone.

I felt a tug in my heart and wondered why I felt this way. It’s been 11 years after all. It must be a trigger. I was getting sentimental that my daughter would soon be leaving for Australia the next day. Or perhaps the stressful political conditions in the country must also be getting to me.

The words echoed inside my mind, “still a family” as we inched closer together and prayed, “Thank you God for family.”

I know that death ended Luijoe’s life but not his relationship to my family. He will always be our precious son. The difference is I gave up the old person who was physically connected to a now deceased Luijoe and made a spiritual connection with my child who died. True, my second daughter will not be with us for a year but I know we will always be connected, thanks to the internet.

It is with a sense of gratitude knowing my family will always be with me wherever they may be. I am thankful for their support in understanding the work that I do. During challenging moments, it is my family who stands by me.

No accusations of “you are pro-Corona, pro-GMA, anti-Noynoy” or “funded to support the RH Bill” or “someone is using you” or “influencing your choices”. Some of my friends disappoint me at times.

Next to God, my family knows what is in my heart. Searching for truth and justice is not being a pro-anyone but merely fighting for what I believe is right. After all, didn’t God give us the gifts of the Holy Spirit to know the difference between right and wrong, and to choose to do what is right? Life is too short to dwell on negativity.

My life in this mortal world is temporary and I might as well make the most of it by focusing on meaningful work, contributing value to society, sharing joyful experiences with my loved ones, and remembering to slow down to savor the precious moments.

Luijoe, my angel reminds me the temporariness of life and to live more fully in the precious moments I am blessed with.

The hot sun rises and the grass withers; the little flower droops and falls, and its beauty fades away. In the same way, the rich will fade away with all of their achievements. James 1:11
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You might also want to read Positive Mental Energy and Affirmations and my other blogs like Free Filipino Food Recipes, Shopping Finds, Pinoy Food Photo Blog and Techie Gadgets. Or Follow me in twitter @momblogger.

How about visiting my Beauty over 50 blog?

Hope you can drop by! Thanks for visiting…Noemi Lardizabal-Dado.

Add me in Facebook by introducing yourself. My facebook is at facebook.com/noemidado

Tweet Follow me in twitter @momblogger.

The loss of a child is unlike any other loss. I don’t know how I lived through the pain but I did…it’s been 11 years.

My good friend, Cathy Babao-Guballa probably knows this by now. Nine years ago, in the midst of my deepest sadness as I grappled with the pain of my son’s death, I came across a newspaper article about the loss of her son, Migi. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I felt a twinge of envy. Her grief journey seemed smooth sailing to me. The burden of my grief took a toll on my heart and probably wrecked my family life. I wanted to recover from this pain. She ended her article with “email me if you have questions”. That sounded reassuring. I cut out the article and folded it neatly in my folder. I was too shy to send her email. In my mind, I knew I could never attain the things she was doing for Migi’s Corner, a play area for sick children in some hospitals. I knew I was going to do something in honor of my son’s memory one day… I just didn’t know it yet.

Cathy has been such an inspiration to me and perhaps many bereaved mothers who have lost a child. In December 2005, she helped me initiate The Compassionate Friends , a grief support for parents who lost a child.

Today, Cathy continues to reach out to other bereaved mothers – women now taking the journey that she once set out on without any roadmap. Through her book “Between Loss and Forever”, Cathy hopes it will serve as a roadmap of sorts for others who are new on the journey – one that provides hope, comfort and guidance for the long road to healing that lies ahead.

In the excerpt of her book , Cathy gives a short introduction about grief. “The celebrated American author and poet, Maya Angelou, once wrote, “There is no greater burden than bearing an untold story inside you.”

The death of a child goes against the natural order of the universe and the strangeness of the event is a major stumbling block for the bereaved mother who cannot comprehend why such an event had to take place. The loss of a child shatters every mother’s worldview of a world that is secure, safe and in order. The bereaved mother, on her own, can take no solace in the incomprehensible loss that her child has gone on ahead of her. ”

Writing the story of my grief journey brought tears and pain in my heart but I always thought of that fateful day I read Cathy’s article, and how it lifted my spirits. Who knows a bereaved parent may learn a thing or two about my grief journey?

My sister Lorna and Cathy

Cathy had asked me “did you keep Luijoe’s room the way it was for many years after his loss? How long before you re-arranged it? How did you go about moving his things? What things of him, if any, have you kept and/or given or shared with the girls?” This was my response to that question and is now an excerpt of “Remembering and Rituals” in the book “Between Loss and Forever

During the first year, I kept it as is. Even the clothes that hung from his room. It was like a sanctuary for me. Just being there, smelling his clothes, seeing his toys gave me comfort.

It didn’t last long when Lauren moved in there. She wanted her own room. I can’t recall if it was a year or two after.

It was four years after when I started giving away his clothes to my helper’s son. My helper, Maan was Luijoe’s yaya too so I felt Luijoe might want if his clothes went to his son who by that time was already 6 years old.

When we moved out of Makati to Pasig, I still had his things..books signed with his signature, his favorite toys and a few of his clothes..just 10 or so pieces. You know, memories are all I have left of him so I needed just a few of these physical things. Below his memorial table is a green box, where I place his love letters to me , the “I love you so very much mama”, the little flower vase that I used to hold the wild flowers he picked from the park. These flowers always came with “I love you very much mama”

These are all so very poignant and it even tears me as I write this.

All the other things are kept in “Luijoe’s room” . It is the extra room at my home. I arranged the room in such a way that it is a “reflection room.” with a mat and pillows on the floor. The colors of the room are splattered with orange and green. The walls are decorated with posters such as the “serenity prayer”, the news paper clipping when we first introduced Compassionate friends. I have photos of my family and Luijoe in that room too. I have a bible, quotes from Buddha, angel quotes and other books to read when one just wants to relax. Butch reads here a lot here. He sort of made it his little nook too.In the past, he would stay here if we had a fight. I call it a “cave” but since 2009 he has stopped retreating here and using it as a “cave”.

Luijoe’s toys are kept in one shelf. HIs story books in another shelf. He is still so much a part of our family. He has a room always in my heart and in my home. Very alive in our hearts and in our mind.

Where am I now in my grief journey?

I often wonder how he would look like today. Would he have been taller than my husband? Would he have the same gleaming smile? Will he still give me a bunch of flowers with an “I love you” note? I can’t imagine because I will always remember him as an innocent and beautiful 6 year old boy whose death changed my life in positive ways I never could imagine. I still miss him but the pain is not heart wrenching. I long for him especially during birth and death anniversaries or when I see a boy similar to his age.

“I don’t know how you’ve survived. It would kill me to lose my child.” Oh, to have one peso for every time I heard that sentence! I’d spend every one of those pesos for an answer, for you see, I don’t know how I’ve survived. What choice did I have? Each transition has been work, hard work, sorting through what it means and learning to function in the face of these circumstances not of my choosing. My new life as a blogger served me well: my role as a bereaved mother is no longer the first way I define who I am, but it is ever-present in my life and cannot be separated from all that I am . . . for the rest of my life.

Me, with Cathy and Julius Babao

There are more stories from 17 other mothers. There is Thelma Arceo who lost her eldest son Ferdie, 21 to the military in the dark ages of Martial Law in Iloilo in 1973. Alice Honasan, whose youngest son Mel, died after a brutal and senseless hazing in 1976. Lissa Ylanan – Moran who lost her infant daughter a few months after EDSA. Mothers who whose children perished at the prime of their lives in car accidents – Raciel Carlos, Jo Ann de Larrazabal, Isabel Valles Lovina and Mano Morales; mothers losing adult children to illness like Baby Tiaoqui and Fe Montano, and mothers who lost their children all too suddenly, like Beth Burgos Adan, Aleli Villanueva, Monique Papa Eugenio and Aileen Judan Jiao. And mothers like Alma Miclat and Vivian dela Pena whose children felt that life was too painful, they chose to end their suffering.

Meet the mothers in “Between Loss and Forever”

My sister Lorna and Dr. Honey Carandang

There can be no better guide to coping the death of one’s child than someone who has been there. My friend Cathy took up grief education and studied the stories of these 18 mothers. It was important for Cathy to capture the very essence of each mother’s story-telling as they spoke and wrote about their loss. She explains that the “breadth of emotions and anguish expressed were impossible to quantify, the experience of listening with one’s mind and heart, of transcribing and writing it all down, was to say the very least, exhausting. No amount of “formulaic” structured questions could grasp the feeling, the emotion, the very core of each mother’s unique grief experience. ”

This book will certainly help other parents and even those with similar losses.

“Between Loss and Forever” will be available at National Bookstore and Powerbooks beginning 23 October 2011

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You might also want to read Positive Mental Energy and Affirmations and my other blogs like Free Filipino Food Recipes, Shopping Finds, Pinoy Food Photo Blog and Techie Gadgets. Or Follow me in twitter @momblogger.

How about visiting my Beauty over 50 blog?

Hope you can drop by! Thanks for visiting…Noemi Lardizabal-Dado.

Add me in Facebook by introducing yourself. My facebook is at facebook.com/noemidado

Tweet Follow me in twitter @momblogger.
My husband watching a boy picking sea shells by the beach front in Boracay. I knew he was thinking of Luijoe.

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

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

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

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

Playing with sand, an hour before Luijoe went to heaven

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

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

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

Luijoe staring at the small fishes by the shore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We have been humbled but not broken.

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

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

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

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

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

We see, always with longing, children who remind us of what our child was or would be now.
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You might also want to read Positive Mental Energy and Affirmations and my other blogs like Free Filipino Food Recipes, Shopping Finds, Pinoy Food Photo Blog and Techie Gadgets. Or Follow me in twitter @momblogger.

How about visiting my Beauty over 50 blog?

Hope you can drop by! Thanks for visiting…Noemi Lardizabal-Dado.

Add me in Facebook by introducing yourself. My facebook is at facebook.com/noemidado

Tweet Follow me in twitter @momblogger.“I am you; you are ME. You are the waves; I am the ocean. Know this and be free, be divine.”
–Sri Sathya Sai Baba

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

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

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

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

Today we go island hopping.

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You might also want to read Positive Mental Energy and Affirmations and my other blogs like Free Filipino Food Recipes, Shopping Finds, Pinoy Food Photo Blog and Techie Gadgets. Or Follow me in twitter @momblogger.

How about visiting my Beauty over 50 blog?

Hope you can drop by! Thanks for visiting…Noemi Lardizabal-Dado.

Add me in Facebook by introducing yourself. My facebook is at facebook.com/noemidado

Tweet Follow me in twitter @momblogger.Dear Luijoe,

It’s been eleven years . Eleven years today…

• without seeing your impish smile,
• without receiving wild flowers with a note “I love you so very much, mama”
• without your gentle reminder to pray
• without your lectures on parenting
• without your crazy jokes
• without pinching your handsome cheeks

These are all vibrant memories now tucked in my heart which I stitched back together.

Oh yes. the tears still stream down my cheeks just like today because I miss you terribly. Love never died even if you are gone from my embrace. Eleven years ago, I felt the world swallowed me up. I thought I could not live with the unbearable gut-wrenching pain in my heart. At times, I thought I went crazy. I barely survived. I had to find that courage to live because your two sisters and dad needed me. That difficult journey left me literally with a broken heart but not too broken because why did God give me a second wind in life to make a difference in this mortal world?

Last night I asked your dad what would I be doing right now if you were still here. Definitely not a blogger. You know I only blogged because I wanted to comfort others in pain like me. This pain that will always be part of me for the rest of my life. Look, even VeePress thought my blog dedicated to you is worthy to be an ebook.

Come to think of it, I would probably still be a stay-at-home- mom until you are done with college.

I wonder if you would still lecture me on “mom…it is like this..” You and your sisters were the best teachers on parenting that books could not deliver. I learned so much.

Today, I reflect about this new life , this new normal without you. From a zombie-like existence, I chose to live a meaningful life not for myself initially but because I knew you would have wanted me to choose happiness over misery. This new normal is not anymore for you but for myself.

My new life is so much better. I should feel guilty because I would trade my life in an instant if I could have you back in my arms. But see, I love who I am now ever since you died eleven years ago. I don’t recognize my old self. Back then, my life purpose was to be just a doting mother to you and your two sisters , apathetic of what happened outside our cozy home. How could I ever imagine a life after a death of my precious child? Impossible but I did. It must be true that you are here with me, your spiritual presence, and just standing by me , encouraging me to move on with my new normal.

Today, I give back this gratitude for the joy of this new life I have been blessed. I hope you are proud of me. I want to be a blessing to others and to my country. I am having the time of my life yet at times face challenges in fighting for a cause like that crying boy, the RH Bill, and other worthy issues. The lessons of the pain brought by your death gave me courage to carry on this fight.

When the going gets rough, I just tell myself, “You can get through this. You have gone through worse. This pain is nothing compared to losing Luijoe”.

So that is how life has been, my Luijoe. Your death gave me courage to continue to fight what is right, that wherever there is life there is hope.

I miss you so much right here where I belong.

I miss for the loss of what a handsome man you would have become (almost 18 years old now, but instead you are forever six years old.).

I miss the loss of the life I would be having if you were here.

I miss those time you would point to that lovely blue and white house where you promised to build one for me in the future. Now that I think of it, this house you promised will come forth in eternal life, when we meet again.

A few days ago, the weather report threatened to make this day a challenge to visit your resting place. For the past 11 years, visiting the cemetery, bringing bouquet of flowers and honoring your life is what we can only do. I know you wouldn’t mind if we missed this day because of a typhoon. But guess what, the weather cleared up. The heavens must be on our side.

I will soon be there by your resting place , with a bunch of flowers and a note etched in my heart “I love you so very much, Luijoe”.

Love.
Mama

P.S.

Here is a video tribute to honor your life. Today, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I have been blessed beyond measure.

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You might also want to read Positive Mental Energy and Affirmations and my other blogs like Free Filipino Food Recipes, Shopping Finds, Pinoy Food Photo Blog and Techie Gadgets. Or Follow me in twitter @momblogger.

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Tweet Follow me in twitter @momblogger.My friend Cathy sent me this beautiful article , Butterfly Miracles, from Chicken Soup for the Soul: Grieving and Recovery by Jeanne Wilhelm. I know some of you who read my blog lost someone in their lives. I often use the butterfly as a symbol of hope . There is always a chance of a new life out there. This is what I often call the new normal, the life without our loved one. It takes time but life does move on to a new normal. These days you will catch me wear butterfly necklaces, butterfly earrings, butterfly on my dress or shirts.

To live in hearts we leave behind Is not to die.
~Thomas Campbell, “Hallowed Ground”

I rummaged through the small cardboard box that passed for my jewelry box. On a mission to get rid of anything unworn, I gasped as my hand touched the metal butterfly — no bigger than a half dollar. Clutching it to my aching chest, the tears streamed down my face as I remembered.

Vivid images of the day my eight-year-old son presented the butterfly pin he’d made for me — my Mother’s Day gift — rushed to mind. I could picture Mark, round face, straight blond hair, as he smiled up at me. “Here, Mom, I made this for you in art class. I painted a design on it, but they baked it and the paint all ran together. I think it turned out neat!”

I prepared myself to receive a gift of love more than beauty as I unfolded the paper wrapped by childish fingers. A witty, personable, and fun-loving child, Mark did not seem to possess artistic talent. The butterfly, to my surprise, emerged a masterpiece of swirling copper, blue and beige hues.

“It’s beautiful,” I said with complete honesty. He accepted my hug with eyes rolling, as I murmured, “Thank you, honey. I love it.” He beamed with pride. I wore the pin frequently for years, often receiving compliments on its artistry.

One day, the back fell from the butterfly as I rushed to pin it to my lapel. I dropped the butterfly into the box in my drawer as I hurried to my appointment. I’ll have it repaired later, I thought.

Life was filled with family, school and work. The butterfly rested, forgotten, in the bottom of the box for more than ten years.

This day, the full force of the painful loss pressed into my chest. Eighteen months earlier, as I cradled my husband in my arms, I felt half of me slip away as he died. Now, the rest of my heart had been ripped from my chest as my 22-year-old son died while I held his hand — helpless again to keep cancer from taking one I loved. Mark had fought the disease with great courage and confidence. In the end his body betrayed him when his spirit would have kept on fighting. The deep, painful cavity inside me screamed for relief.

How I’d longed for a part of Mark to keep near. His cap, his keychain — none of his possessions had provided comfort — only more pain. But this butterfly, a gift made by his loving hands, held the promise of his continued presence with me. His life changed, like the caterpillar to the butterfly. He was no longer bound by ill health and earthly trials. The butterfly reminded me of this truth. The miracle of this gift, rediscovered after so many years, soothed my grieving heart.

The butterfly, coupled with a gold cross and attached to a delicate gold chain (a gift from my daughter), traveled the journey through grief with me. I wore it constantly, even in the shower. Along the way, sometimes the telling of the story brought comfort to another traveler. It also held the promise of change and healing for me, but in some irrational way, I felt to take it off would be to forget Mark and stall the healing.

One night, about a year after his death, I, who almost never remember a dream, had a startling and memorable one. I found myself standing on my front porch looking for someone. I saw a young man in the distance and as he trudged nearer, I recognized Mark — tired, sick and dirty — but Mark without a doubt. Stunned, unable to move at first, I threw my arms around him as he came up onto the porch.

Holding tight, I cried, “Mark, oh Mark, it is so good to see you. You’re not dead. I thought you were dead and you’re not. Oh Mark, Mark, I love you son,” I babbled.

He pulled back from me and said, “Mom, I love you. I have to go now and you must let me go. You must let me go, Mom. You can’t keep hanging onto me. Let me go now.” With that, for just a second, he appeared healthy and vigorous — almost glowing — then vanished.

I woke up feeling his embrace and hearing his words echo in my mind. I clutched the butterfly as tears streamed down my face. I raced to the front door to look for him and saw only an empty street. I started to grasp it was only a dream, but a strange peace crept into my darkness.

As I pondered the dream, I realized that in order to heal, to move on, I had to let Mark go — not forget, but refuse to cling to what might have been. The butterfly became the symbol. I started by taking it off to shower, then to sleep. Little by little I accepted my son’s departure from my life, but never forgetting what we’d shared. The awful pain and emptiness declined as I persisted in enjoying the memories of the occasions we’d spent together — not dwelling on the times we’d never have.

As my journey continued, the butterfly reminded me of the new life that awaited me. But when would that lingering ache in my chest depart? Five years passed. I believed that as long as I lived, the ache would remain. After all, I’d shed tears with women who buried children 60 years before.

On a walk one day, as I mulled over this “fact,” a butterfly fluttered toward me as if heaven-sent. Healing in his wings, I thought. And suddenly the ache was gone, replaced by joy for Mark reveling in all the glories of heaven.

Do I miss him? Yes. Is there sadness or a tear now and then? Yes. But there is a difference. The sadness no longer steals the joy away. Now when I wear the butterfly it is a symbol of victory over death and a new life not just for Mark, but for me as well. Clearly, more than one butterfly miracle came my way.

Source : You can subscribe the best of the Chicken Soup for the Soul——————————-
You might also want to read Positive Mental Energy and Affirmations and my other blogs like Free Filipino Food Recipes, Shopping Finds, Pinoy Food Photo Blog and Techie Gadgets. Or Follow me in twitter @momblogger.

How about visiting my Beauty over 50 blog?

Hope you can drop by! Thanks for visiting…Noemi Lardizabal-Dado.

Add me in Facebook by introducing yourself. My facebook is at facebook.com/noemidado

Tweet Follow me in twitter @momblogger.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.

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.

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You might also want to read Positive Mental Energy and Affirmations and my other blogs like Free Filipino Food Recipes, Shopping Finds, Pinoy Food Photo Blog and Techie Gadgets. Or Follow me in twitter @momblogger.

How about visiting my Beauty over 50 blog?

Hope you can drop by! Thanks for visiting…Noemi Lardizabal-Dado.

Add me in Facebook by introducing yourself. My facebook is at facebook.com/noemidado