Stars In My Sky

Borrowed from the Internet

 Chasing Stars (v2)

darkness engulfs the vast sky

just moments after the sun's parade;

and it grows with every heartbeat

until the emptiness seems absolute;

the pain, wrenching,

from a beloved irrevocably lost;

then, with a blink, pinpricks of light ---

they appear in silent succession;

the constricting darkness gives way to

a boundless bejeweled sky;

and I --- I fall into its quiet embrace

of endless possibilities;

this is where I will remain,

embracing the darkness, chasing stars;

as I await the promise

of my inevitable new dawn.

When my son passed away, it felt a lot like a supernova event that quickly evolved into a black hole; and, for a time, I was just floating in that void.  It was like being under water, almost like drowning.  You hear distant muffled sounds, voices; you feel the burning in your lungs demanding for air; you flail your arms and legs and yet you can't break water.

I feel its tug under the current

I close my eyes in surrender

And then I hear a thousand whispers

Prayers echoing in the darkness

Until the lightness embraced me

And I emerged just above these high waters.

That is why I feel compelled to say "thank you" to all those pinpricks of light that broke through my absolute darkness.

• Satellites.  I have 3:  G, P and Jack.  They get me out of bed.  Without them, I probably would not have emerged from my room. In many ways, they seem to reflect back some of my son's light while he was with us. 
• Asteroid Belt (Yeah, maybe not exactly shining at night).  These are my family and close friends who formed an asteroid belt around me, so that I won't float away and get completely lost in space.  They are an endless fountain of strength for me even though I know they are grieving, too.
• Venuses.  These are my sisters in grief.  It brings me tremendous comfort having them with me, sharing the journey with people who know exactly how I feel.
• Shooting Stars.  These are the friends (mine and Anton's) who pass by every now and then, shooting by my dark sky and lighting it up -- even for just a moment.
• Distant Stars.  The constant friends, who, although they don't prod the topic, find ways to shine their love and light my way, especially through prayer bouquets. 

It has not been easy.  Often, grief is a lonely journey and sometimes it feels more comfortable than actually moving forward.  I am grateful that God had planned this so perfectly, providing me with just the right support to patiently and lovingly push (and pull) me forward.

Thank you!  You know who you are 😊

I wake up to dusk

Melancholy claims me

As daylight fades into darkness.

I curl up in its embrace

Not wanting to get up

Safe in the cocoon of my sadness.

Then I hear a distant bell ringing

Time for family Mass

Time to go back to the living.

Anton's and Mama's Bumblebee Playlist

Music had been an integral part of my relationship with my son. I had always enjoyed listening to music, but, when my son came along, I learned that it was also a useful tool for calming kids and an effective mode of communication.

As a toddler, my son was a jumping jelly bean and it was a challenge to dial down the energy enough to get him to sleep.  It got frustrating at times, but I found some techniques that worked like magic.

Option 1 

1. Hug him close to my heart 
2. Slow down my breathing  
3. Play "Always" by Plumb or Kenny G
4. Wait for the telltale jerk
5. Lay him down on the bed

Option 2

1. Ask him to lay down on his bed beside me
2. Read a book or have a quiet pillow talk while looking at glow-in-the-dark stars
3. Give him a baby massage (I used J&J's lavender bedtime oil) 
4. Wait for the telltale jerk
5. Quietly get out of his bed

Later on, he would get diagnosed with ADHD (and much later with Aspergers) and I would find out that my techniques (as with the academic and social teaching techniques I used) were most suitable for kids with ADHD or in the spectrum.  (The therapist even asked why I did not pursue Child Development.  I thought it was an odd comment, since it felt more like just a Mom understanding her child's needs).  She said, that I should continue leveraging on music as a means to help him cope.  Thus, it became integral to our daily life, bonding us (and sometimes dividing us:  Ed Sheeran vs. John Mayer for best guitarist) and bridging us.

I created playlists for him on my iPod (not everything I listened to is kid friendly). And, when he learned to bathe himself, he would even listen to it while taking a shower.  

When he was old enough, I installed Spotify on his assigned mobile device, and he started creating his own playlists. During drives, we would take turns listening to each other's playlists.  He shared music he discovered through his friends and I would school him on classics and music I grew up with.  

A few months after he passed, I discovered probably the last playlist he created, "Anton's BEST HITS 2020" and was happy to find some songs I shared with him, including Ne-Yo's "So Sick" and Aqua's "Turn Back Time".

So, it is no surprise that during the past months, whenever I am at my lowest, bawling my eyes out while grief journaling, the perfect song came on -- addressing my sentiments at the moment. It felt like my son was talking to me. At first, I thought, maybe I'm reading too much into it.  Maybe it's just coincidence ... but I don't believe in coincidences. 

Then, I saw this while I was scrolling through my Instagram feed. 

Just before we laid him on his final resting place, I remember telling him, "You need to guide me now.  Give me neon signs, okay?  You know how slow I get sometimes".  In true Anton form, he gave me, quite literally, a neon sign.

From then on, I took note of them and "processed" the songs in my journal.  But it was only in January that I got the idea to collect them into a playlist:  Anton's and Mama's Bumblebee Playlist (Hint:  Transformers).

It's a good sized playlist now and I will be sharing some of them in my "Bumblebee Playlist" series.  They helped me.  Maybe it would help you in some form, too.

I Am Sad Mad

     For Anton's first birthday in heaven, I took a week off from work.  I did not have anything specific planned out. Afterall, there really isn't much of a choice given the COVID restrictions.  On the evening of Day 2, I decided to watch Home.  I vaguely remember it being a silly movie that Anton and I enjoyed.  It was going really well until this scene.

    In the scene Oh was trying to figure out Tip's reaction; why she was mad at him for leaving her alone for a long time. He concludes that she is sad mad. Her anger is stemming from her sadness.  I recalled explaining to Anton when he was younger how, oftentimes, people get angry because they are hurt. And the people who can hurt us the most are people we love.  So, whenever I get mad, it is normally because someone I love did something to break my heart.  And because I love him the most, no one could hurt me more than him.  I realize, it might be too much to put on a little kid, but this started his habit of checking, "Is it a good day, Mom?  Do you have a happy heart?"

    The flood gates opened. I was full-scale MTV-video levels crying-while-hugging-pillow-in-bed.

    Even after the movie finished, I was still bawling. When I realized the tears won't stop anytime soon, I decided to pray; maybe to Jesus.  I don't even recall what exactly I prayed for.  All I can remember is that I kept telling Him, "I am in so much pain".  

    And in the darkness, as I cried, a visual came to my head of a big man holding me.  I thought it was Jesus, but it was not the usual image I see during contemplative prayers.  He was not holding me the same way and the syntax of what He said did not feel like Jesus.  He held me gently yet firmly and said, "Go on. Lay it all on Me. Blame Me."  

    As I broke down all the more, burying my face deeper into His embrace, He said, "Oh, child!  It is not your fault!" (It was God the Father holding me!)

    Then I thought back to earlier this evening. My heart broke for G when her friend did not show up for afternoon walk.  I knew she would inevitably bump into her friend again around the village, but I also knew how painful it was because she had expected him to be there. But he wasn't.  At that moment, I just hugged her because I knew nothing I said would really make her feel better.  She ran back inside the house sad-mad.

    I am sad-mad because I expected my son in my future. But he is no longer here. I am sad-mad because I did not get to save my son from his final sufferings.

    After I had calmed down, I listened to The Catholic Daily Reflections for May 21st.  It was just the balm I needed.  And I knew the reflection was exactly what God the Father wanted to tell me.

    It talked about how, in Jesus's conversation with Peter (where He asked if Peter loved Him 3x), He also knew how Peter would eventually die -- and how He approved of Peter's ultimate act of love for Him.  He is not happy that Peter is suffering, but He is happy that Peter is offering his suffering as an act of love for Jesus.  There is a greater good in it.  

    I should not focus on a small detail, but see The Big Picture.  During those final hours my son suffered gracefully, in absolute faith and hope in God.  He suffered lovingly and prayed earnestly, putting his trust in Jesus, Mary, Joseph ... and San Raphael, "Mom, I also prayed to San Raphael to heal my tummy."

    I broke down once more.  But, this time, it was out of comfort, relief and gratefulness ... and a little bit of #ProudMom moment.

    My thought echoed St. Elizabeth's, "Who am I that God the Father should come and comfort me?"

    "Why do you think I am here at this hour?  Because I knew you would come.  I came just for you [because I love you]." (From The Chosen, when Jesus came by the well to see the Samaritan woman).

Unpopular Beliefs: Pondering COVID, Hate and Religion

 Disclaimer:  These thoughts do not represent the stand of the religion I belong to.  These are my opinion.

    One early morning in April, so many thoughts crowded in my head, clamoring for light.  I had no choice but to type them into my phone in the dark just so I could sleep.  Here they are in no specific order, as random as they flowed from my head:

• This global COVID19 pandemic brought out the best and worst in humanity this past year.  Sadly, the good became better and the bad became worse.
• It highlighted the issues in society and in the environment we move in - i.e. the disparity between the poor and the rich; the impact of corrupt government vs. good governance.
• Discrimination in any form became heightened, including Asian Hate.
• And yet the enemy is not other people.  It's the virus.  But we have started turning against each other instead of turning TO each other for help and to give help.

• In the same way, there should not be a struggle among different religions.  Afterall, they all preach the same basic concepts/principles:  a God who is good and who saves, Love and Kindness, Forgiveness, Truth.
• All the main figures in major religions did not say, create a religion and be saved.  They all preached a way of life, a way of being.  They exemplified their teachings in their lives; more than creating rules.
• God's love and grace is not limited by religion.  He said so in the Bible "His Sun shines on both the good and the evil and sends rain on the just and unjust" (Matthew 5:45) and "I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts" (Jeremiah 31:33).
• Religion provides different roads to the same destination.  Choose the road that works for you. At the end of the day, although we meet different people along the way, it is an individual journey.  We come into this world alone and leave it alone.
• The enemy is the evil one that sows hate, separation from God and the belief that there is no God.  That is what all religions need to work against.
• Praying to saints, our ancestors or dearly departed, asking for intercessions from people we know, prayer gatherings/meetings, praying over --- they are all asking from God ... with a little help from our friends.  The only difference is who are you asking help from:  people who have graduated or people who are still in the university (just different level) with you.
• Formula prayers, novenas are no different from saying "Amen" to an impromptu prayer uttered by someone.  The efficacy is not on the prayer itself but it's in the heart as you say the prayer or as you say "Amen".  Whenever I see or hear prayers that resonate with me in my specific journey, I copy them and make them my own.  I have even requested for copies of personal prayers uttered by prayer leaders.  When you can't find the words, it is very handy to have prayers available that articulate exactly what's in your heart.  
• They say singing is praying twice.  Well, aren't they essentially formula prayers as well?
• If none of those work.  Where words and song fail us, being just silent with God also works.  Afterall, He knows what is in our hearts before we even speak it.

Why are these random thoughts plaguing me?  Because I feel religion wars and hate & discrimination are unnecessary distractions from the real issues we need to combat together.  These petty things have only succeeded in dividing us, which is counterproductive.  We are stronger united.  There is strength in number.  Time to put away our differences and work towards restoring humanity and Mother Earth.  Listen to what COVID19 is teaching us.

We need to Lead with Love (Thank you P&G for providing the perfect tagline.  I hope it catches on more deeply), ask ourselves "What is the loving thing to do?" and act on it.

Borrowed from the internet

Black Saturday: Mama Mary's Pain And Mine

     

Borrowed from the internet

    It was the early morning of the day after Jesus's passing.  I went up to the rooftop of the upper room.  There I saw Mama Mary just as the sun was rising.  She was looking out towards the rising sun, smiling and crying.  She beckoned me to sit beside her.

    "Everything is quiet and peaceful.  It's beautiful," she said, "But my heart is aching.  I feel His absence."

    Her tears fell profusely and quietly ... as did mine.  For minutes, we sat lost in our own, yet, also, shared pain.

    Then she took my hand, "And now we wait.  He will come."  She held me towards her with her right arm, rubbing her hand up and down my shoulder; comforting me.

    In his talk, Fr. Vic talked about the ever-evolving motherhood of Mama Mary.  When Jesus died, she knew her role was about to change.  She was the one who knew Him most intimately.  She is the one who will be able to keep Him alive with His disciples and to guide them towards His way.

    During this contemplative prayer, once again, Mama Mary urges me to wait on Jesus in faith, while comforting me as only a mother could: being with me, completely immersed, in my pain and just holding me.  

    Mama Mary, I apologize for downplaying your pain. I understand now, that the pain of losing a child is not diminished even with the knowledge that you/we will see each other again.

Borrowed from the internet

Good Friday: You Are Not Yet Finished

    When Anton passed away, I asked God, "What the heck am I still doing here?"

***

    For Good Friday, I took the imaginative contemplation scene.

    In the scene, I saw the crucified Christ, the screaming and mocking crowd, and Mama Mary - crying, while her eyes remained unwaveringly on Jesus. I cried at the sight of her.  I looked at Jesus, battered,  he looked at me with peaceful eyes; no judgment --- even though, I know, my sins contributed to His suffering.  I cried ... because I knew He shouldn't be there, yet He chose to be there, bearing the weight of my sins and the rest of the world's.  He looked at me with a look of shared pain; as if telling me to be brave.  

    A cloaked man came up beside me quietly.  I looked at him.  He was gazing at the crucified Christ.  As if sensing that I'm looking at him, he lifted his hand, offering it to me. I looked at it and saw the nail mark.  

    "It is finished!"  

    That's when the Jesus beside me looked at me and said, "Di ka pa tapos." (You are not yet finished).

    In my peripheral view, I saw Mama Mary fall to the ground on her knees as she uttered a soft cry. Her body trembled as she sobbed. I ran to her and hugged her, crying with her.  I knew exactly how she felt, a conflict of emotions:  relieved that it was finally over and anguished at the loss of her Son.

    I saw the cloaked Jesus leaving and Mama Mary told me, "Go!"  I hugged her tightly and ran after Him.  He was on the road by the time I caught up with Him.  I grabbed His hand and He squeezed it.

    I have notes on the Pedagogy of Redemption.  I don't remember if it's from the retreat literature or from my session with Ate Aidah or from another online talk.  But this pretty much explains how and why the contemplation scene unfolded the way it did; although I did not understand it then - only now as I write this.

    Three things about the Pedagogy of Redemption resonated with me.  It is:  (1) Truth-telling; (2) Healing; and a (3) Dying to Self and Rising to New Self.  

• It begins with contemplating Jesus as He contemplates me - with all 5 senses + heart + soul engaged; to see and feel how lovingly He looks at me; and to see and feel what He sees in me.  

And what He sees is MY truth.

          This saves me from the "demons" that hold me back from authentic living. 

• From this truth comes metanoia:  conversion and healing.
• Then begins the dying to self-focus, transforming through contemplation and following Jesus.
• This enables us to surrender ourselves more fully as we become incorporated into the very dying and rising of Christ.
• Then our life becomes a personal incarnation of Christ's dying and rising. 

    

    The past year, I had been focused on my pain.  And that is alright.  Acknowledging and understanding my pain is where healing begins.  During this period, I had given Jesus the "cold shoulder", keeping only my line with Mama Mary open.  But on Good Friday, Mama Mary urged me to transcend my pain (manifested in her pain) and "Go!" where He leads.

    I don't know where He will lead me, but with prayer and contemplation, I will learn to forgive myself and to accept fully God's forgiveness.  Only then will I experience love stretching, loving in Jesus's fashion, which comes with "paghahandog ng sarili" (offering oneself) and following in trust.

   Then, hopefully, I will be able to finally say, "It is finished!"

Poetic Doses: His 1st Angelversary

 I see echoes
Always echoes
Reverberating
Back and forth
In small moments
Magnifying
Pulsing
And then bursting.

***

ISANG TAON

(ONE YEAR)

Isang taon.

Takot tumigil

(afraid to stop)
Kailangan magtrabaho

(I need to work)
Kahit ano.

(anything)

Katahimika'y kaaway

(silence is the enemy)
Ng isipang pasaway

(of the stubborn mind)
At pusong nalulumbay.

(and the lonely heart)

Isang taon.

Sakit na di nagbabago

(pain that is unchanging)

Pangungulilang di naiibsan

(longing that does not diminish)

Katahimikang sumisigaw

(silence that screams)

Nagsusumamo pusong pagal

(a weary heart pleading)

Patuloy na lumulutang

(endlessly floating)

Sa gitna ng kawalan.

(in a vast void)

Isang taon.

Ayaw umusad

(I don't want to move forward)

Di kaya

(I can't)

Ngunit kailangan

(but I need to)

Paano na

(how)

Saan pa paroroon

(where will I go)

Ngayong wala ka na?

(now that you're gone?)

***

Love surrounds me.

Yet, each night - just before dawn, 

I surrender to half-healed wounds

peeling back open

into another layer

of deeper fresh wounds.

Holy Thursday: Passing Over To Self-sacrificing Love

    During our orientation meeting, Ate Aidah told me to tell God my intention/s or my question/s for the Holy Week Retreat.  She warned that I might not get the answer during the retreat itself, but I have to be open to journey with Jesus towards it.

    I had one question and intention:  Is my son home with You?  If not, then please bring him safely home soon.

    I started to go through the prepared readings for Holy Thursday reflection.  The first one I read was the Psalms -- Psalms 116: 12-13, 15-16, 17-18.  Verses 15-16 was 💗

"How painful it is to the Lord when one of His people dies!  I am Your servant, Lord; I serve You just as my mother did.  You have saved me from death."

I started crying as I read it and all I could utter was, "Thank You!"  

Then, when I looked for one of the passages for reflection: 2 Cor 5:21, I found one of Anton's highlighted passages: 2 Cor 6:2 - the one that assured me a couple of months from his passing.

"Hear what God says:  When the time came for Me to show you favor, I heard you;  When the day arrived for Me to save you, I helped you.  Listen!  This is the hour to receive God's favor; today is the day to be saved!"

    Of course, I cried buckets once again.  God (and my son) really knows. He knew I would overanalyze the first passage and, so, He reinforced it.  All I could say was, "Ok, ok ... I heard You!  I got it now. I'm sorry I doubted."

    Now that we have that anecdote out of the way, let's get down to the business of Holy Thursday.  I did not know where to begin reflecting on the theme:  Passing Over to Self-sacrificing Love, so I took it a reading at a time.

Reflecting on John 13:1-15

"Jesus knew that the hour had come for Him to leave this world and go to the Father.  He had always loved those in the world who were His own, and He loved them to the very end."

    It may be too presumptuous to compare Jesus's final days with Anton's, but this was the exact disposition Anton had during his final days.  It was as if he knew he was leaving; and he loved us - me, especially - to the very end.

    A few weeks before his passing, he started teaching little G how to wake me up before lunch time.  She had to knock quietly and kiss me softly. I heard him coaching her right outside the door.  Back then, I thought it was amusing.  I didn't know that he was making sure I did not wake up alone.  He also started giving her and little P his most treasured toys.  A few days after he passed, I saw his favorite stuffed dog toy, Buddy, on my bed. Seeing my pained surprised look, G said, "Kuya gave Buddy to me, Ninang.  I think you need him more now." The Harry Potter wand he made and his treasured Star Wars lightsaber from Tita Janice were also handed over to his little cousins.

    After we laid him to his final resting place, our cook (with whom he was always annoyed because "she is not following Lolo's instructions" to the letter) told me how, during his final months, he made an effort to be kinder and more patient with her.  He cheerfully greeted her every morning, asked how she was and genuinely listened.  For that, she said, she was grateful.

"... He knew that He had come from God and was going to God."

    The doctors said that, normally, the pain from his illness (when it does manifest) is unbearable.  But on his final day, he bore his pain with so much grace and trust in God and Mama Mary.  Unable to join for Mass, he went down and asked for his Lolo to pray over him.

"You do not understand now what I am doing, but you will understand later."

Hindi ko talaga maintindihan (I truly do not understand).  And, even though I know that God has His reasons, it is still excruciatingly painful.  Even with the reassurances, the pain is soul-deep.  Matindi ang pangungulila (There is a terrible longing amidst the loneliness).  Even though I feel Anton's presence and feel him speaking to my heart, I still miss him so much.  My heart aches immensely for my son.  He is my life.  To say that I had been dying since he left is not an understatement.  I don't think I will ever feel whole again.  I don't know how.  I am in pain; my soul is anguished.

♫ Nagmula sa Iyo ang lahat ng ito.  Muli kong handog sa Iyo.🎝
(All these came from You; I offer back to You)

    Ate Aidah said, I give it back to God -- not to take from me, but to hold, manage and take hold FOR me.  Pero ang hirap! (But it's so hard!).  How does one reconcile this parting as merely God taking hold of this soul that I love the most?  

    I didn't fully understand what Ate Aidah was trying to convey until I had a merienda date with my Mom a few weeks ago.  She said, "Jesus and Mama Mary took him home because they want to keep him safe from future pain and heartache."  My son, being the most honest and innocent person I know, is very gullible, making him vulnerable to people who might take advantage of him.  He trusts people he loves ... to a fault.  I used to worry about him falling into bad company, so I would pound on him the things to look out for:  red flags to be wary about.  He half-listened, believing himself an excellent judge of character.

Contemplating Christ's Agony in Gethsemane

    Luke 22:39-46.  I read the passage and wondered how Jesus's prayer went; how the conversation between Father and Son went; and then the instrumental version of ♬Paghahandog ng Sarili♬ (Offering of Oneself) started playing.  I had come to attribute it to the ultimate "sacrifice" God had asked of me: to part with my son.  But going through the lyrics now, I realized, this must have been the theme of Jesus's conversation with the Father.  "Father, if You will, take this cup of suffering away from Me.  Not My will, however, but Your will be done."

    Mark 14:32-42. "Father, my Father!  All things are possible for You.  Take this cup of suffering from Me. Yet not what I want, but what You want."  It is true.  All things are possible with God.  It is also true that He knows everything.  He knows how the story will unfold.  He knows how something painful can propel us towards the right direction.  We only need to trust and follow.

    Matthew 26:36-46.  "Keep watch and pray that you will not fall into temptation.  The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." Jesus checked in on the apostles 3x and found them sleeping.  This meant that He knew the weakness of the human nature, but reminded the apostles that the way to combat it is through prayer.  It is a daily conscious decision to keep trusting in the story that God has laid out for me.  It is so easy to focus on the pain and spiral into the blackhole of despair.  In the months that followed his passing, I remember how during a grief journal session, I "heard" Anton say, "Keep praying, Mom." During those months, I prayed the rosary by rote  and not by heart (if only to satisfy my insistent son's voice in my heart); but it kept me afloat.

    Bringing together all the readings, I understand that, in everything He did, Jesus had one motivation:  Love.  It is this Love, both for God the Father and humanity, that drove Him ultimately to obedience to the point of self-sacrifice. What gave Him strength to soldier through it is His faith in God the Father's Will.  

    I am going through the darkest phase of my life.  And, while this sacrifice is far from voluntary, I have to soldier through in faith, that God knows how the story ends and has the power to turn this pain into something beautiful; to magnify and multiply my love for my son into expressions of the Father's Love. 

    This brings me to one of the songs that played during my reflection time:  ♬Maging Akin Muli♬ (Be Mine Once More).  In order for God to work His "magic", I need to accept His invitation to "Be Mine Once More" and surrender.

Borrowed from the internet

Holy Wednesday: "Keep Your Eyes On Me. We Are Going Up To Jerusalem"

     On Holy Wednesday, Ate Aidah and I prepared for the upcoming 3 days of the retreat.  I set my intentions, more of questions, for the retreat; while Ate Aidah reminded me that the answers might not come.  What is important is the journey; the experience of reconnecting and re-establishing my relationship with Jesus.  She reminded me to hold on to the knowledge that Jesus is journeying with me and of His invitation from our earlier conversation:  "Keep your eyes on Me."

       After our session, I thought I'd prepare myself by going through the readings and taking Cardinal Tagle's Online Recollection.  

Holy Wednesday's Responsorial Psalm:  Psalm 69:33

"Lord, in Your great love, answer me."
"See, you lowly ones, and be glad; you who seek God, may your hearts revive!"

    

    Once Cardinal Tagle's Online Recollection began, I knew it was an inspired idea.  His recollection is anchored on Matthew 20:18 - "Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem." and focuses on Jesus's invitation to journey with Him as He fulfills His mission:  to suffer, die AND rise out of Love.  Doing so, according to Cardinal Tagle, requires conversion or renewal in hope, faith and charity.  To achieve this, we need to go back to the 3 disciplines of Lent:  prayer, fasting and almsgiving.

The following is a summary of what I learned from the Recollection.

Renewed Faith - Fasting

    Faith is accepting AND living the truth revealed in Jesus Christ.  Jesus said, "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life."  In faith, we accept that Jesus is the Truth.  In accepting that He is the Truth, we know that He is the Way to Life; the way to fulness and fulfillment of life.

    What does this have to do with Fasting? 

    Society has taught us that fulfillment of life is equal to SELF-fulfillment; getting what I want for myself.  Fasting is a form of self-denial, which helps us find fulness of life in Jesus rather than in the self.  

    Watchout:  The world would rather satisfy us so that we don't find satisfaction or fulfillment in Jesus; so that we will not accept Jesus's Truth.

Renewed Hope - Prayer

    Hope is focused on the future; hoping for the Father's mercy through Jesus's death and resurrection; hoping for the future that the Father holds for us through Jesus.  It is believing that history does not end in our mistakes ... or the sin that crucifies Love.  It is receiving with open heart the Father's forgiveness.

    Sometimes we are too focused on our failures and limitations.  (This was my favorite past time since  Anton's passing.  I went through all my failures and all the things I could have done better).  This leads to judgement and despair, which is contagious and can corrupt communities and countries.

    We recover Hope through PRAYER.

    Prayer silences the noise and enables us to hear and listen to the Father; to shed light in our lives; to inspire us; to offer, once again, the Love of Jesus. 

    Since Anton's passing, I stopped talking to Him.  I prayed the rosary and attended Mass by rote.  As they say, "Fake it till you make it." Keep at it with your head.  And, when you're ready, the heart will follow.  Those "mechanical" prayers acted as one-sided conversations with Him where I was only half-listening. Occasionally something would hit me, but I did not fully engage.  I guess this was my way of giving Him the cold shoulder.

    But, as with any relationship standoffs, it only prolonged my agony. (To be fair to me, I did not even realize I was upset at Him!).  I needed to be open to Him and lay my heart out to Him.  Only when I talk to Him will I understand the depths of His Love for me.  Only then will I understand the depths of His mercy.  And then I will have the courage to forgive myself and LIVE with the renewed hope that my failure/s is/are not the end of my story.

Renewed Love (Conversion to Love) - Almsgiving

    Love means to love in the footsteps of Jesus; the way He loved, showing concern and compassion for ALL, especially those treated harshly or non-existent or non-persons by society.  Love rejoices in seeing the other grow, even those that have wronged us.  Love suffers when you see others suffering.  Jesus's brand of Love makes you see and feel for EVERYONE.

    Almsgiving is not just donating, but caring for one another, especially for those who suffer.  It is offering with love, joy and simplicity.

    "The life of a community is sustained by the little acts of kindness; little acts that make people feel important, seen and loved."

 For the past months I had been zombie-walking through life, alive but not living.  And, although I know that healing does not happen overnight, I know the retreat is His way of resuscitating me.  Hearing Cardinal Tagle's recollection was a defibrillator.  After several months, I got a pulse!

From the Internet

Poetic Doses: M7 Till His Birthday

From this day forward

And always

Even days of drunken laughter

Shall be spiked

With salt-infused water.

And there is ever only you

The star that is my Sun

Amidst this terrible darkness

Your light throbs to spark Life

The stardust you sprinkled

Faith, Hope and Love

Softly settling in hearts you touched.

Painting by Tat 

I wake up to dusk

Melancholy claims me

As daylight fades into darkness.

I curl up in its embrace

Not wanting to get up

Safe in the cocoon of my sadness.

Then I hear a distant bell ringing

Time for family Mass

Time to go back to the living.

Painting by Ina Nolasco

There are moments of unraveling

Of breakdown

And moments of epiphany.

Then there are moments of anchoring

Of breathing

And a single moment of coming Home.

For the briefest moment I was alive;

And for that I am grateful.

Epiphany on Holy Monday

    It's my first Holy Week without my son.  Other than my silent retreat at Trese Martires 10 years ago, Holy Week is another sacred time for Anton and family.  I would normally come up with activities for both of us.  That is why, this year, I did not really feel like engaging in any Holy Week activity.  But a friend invited me to join the IHS Online Retreat, so I signed up for the generic one.  I did not want to open myself up to a random spiritual director ... until I saw a familiar name in the Zoom session.  

    At the last minute, I requested to get into the directed retreat, specifically asking for Ate Aidah.  As fate would have it, she confirmed as spiritual director also on the same day.  Whether I requested for her explicitly or not, she would have been assigned to me 😉

    Knowing what had happened, the first activity she gave me was to write a "Thank you" letter to Jesus. So, I setup my quiet space on the floor in my room -- complete with laptop table, mini altar, candle and the Spotify IHS Retreat Playlist.  Now it was time to get into my quiet space in my head.  

    I settled onto my yoga mat and tried to be still; to empty my mind and allow Him to just come and move me.  I took myself to my favorite prayer scene:  facing the setting sun at the Grand Canyon.  It's only been a mere few seconds, but I felt like I could not get into the right disposition.  I could not BE still. I felt like giving up and started to say, "I can't ... "

    Then His face appeared from my right side.  

    He had been sitting (weirdly out of my peripheral vision) just beside me.  "I'm here," He said.  Then He was quiet, while I felt sobs welling up from my chest.  He kept looking out at the scene as I tried to collect myself.

    "I'm here," He repeated.  And I broke down.  

    He hugged me to Himself, "I've always been here."

    Ate Aidah wanted me to start by writing a "Thank you" letter.  And, although I know in my head that there is so much to be grateful for, I just don't feel it.  There is this huge block in my heart.

    "Alam ko nagtatampo ka sa'kin" ("I know you resent Me") 

    It was only then that it dawned on me.  I never even realized it.  For months I thought I only resented Mama Mary and San Raphael whom we prayed to during Anton's final moments and at the ER.  But He was right.  Since that day at the ER I had not talked to Him.  I had not visited Him in our quiet place. Unknowingly, I pinned this on Him. Afterall, He knew it was going to happen this way and He did nothing.

    He continued to hold me to Himself.  Quiet.  "Bakit Mo binawi? (Why did You take Him back?) Your greatest gift to me ... "God giveth and God taketh"  Is that it?" 

    "Hindi Ko binawi. (I did not take Him back). He is still yours ... just different. Evolved.  And you have to evolve with him."

    "Bakit ang sakit sakit pa rin? (Why does it still hurt so badly?)  I feel so lost."

    

    Then from my left side Anton hugs me, "Mom ..."

    It was probably a good 15 to 20 minutes of just cathartic crying.

Sunset at the Grand Canyon North Rim Photograph by Donald Pash

    Then I looked at the list of readings for reflection.  I chose the one entitled:  "I Am Mary of Nazareth" (Luke 1:26 - 38). It was the Annunciation scene.  The following verses struck me:

• "God sent the angel Gabriel ..." - to me! (Anton has 3 names.  The 3rd is Gabriel).
• "Peace be with you!  The Lord is with you and has greatly blessed you!" - A part of me had thought that Anton was taken from me because I was unworthy of him.  The encounter affirmed that it is untrue.  My greatest blessing was not taken from me, but evolved into something beyond my wildest imagination. I do not fully comprehend it yet, but I am beginning to understand.
• "For there is nothing that God cannot do" - Surely He can heal my brokkenness.
• "I am the Lord's servant.  May it happen to me as you have said." - No matter how painful.
• "And the angel left her" - Anton has left me physically, but he was never gone.

    I have read this story many times.  But, at that very moment, it felt like a deeply personal conversation with Jesus.  I sat for a few more minutes reflecting and relishing its new meaning.  And I knew my healing process has begun.

    

A Mother's Grief

 

Grief is such a lonely journey.

 It's like those nights when I cannot sleep. Just when I thought I had fallen asleep, my consciousness comes alive; and I realize that I hadn't been sleeping -- just floating in a blackhole of mindless wakefulness.

That's how some days feel ... as if I am finally moving forward, finally getting acquainted and used to the weight of grief constantly pressing against my heart.

 Then I get jolted into consciousness and realize I'm still here, where he left me.  And I can't breathe from the onslaught of salt infused rain pouring from this limitless storm cloud inside me.

There is no rhyme nor reason, no logical triggers; no negative self-talk.  It just is.  And it screams.  No.  It wails to be heard, although it has no words.

There is no pain, like a mother's grief.

Art by:  Ina Nolasco

Poetic Doses: Month 2 Till The 1st Christmas Without My Rainbow Prince

Art by: Louie Artista

i'm still here

i'm still here

where you left me

where the sun refuses to shine

and the air is scarce;

where the pain is all mine

and wounds don't turn into scars.

i'm still here

i'm still here

waiting

broken

barely breathing

where you left me

where you can never come back.

***

La Nina

Days soaking in rain from

My inexhaustible raincloud heart

There is no reprieve for

My bleeding soul

I will walk through

A lifetime of La Nina

Until my feet takes me

Towards your voice

   finally calling me home.

***

I am

floating in a sunless universe.

***

Moon Rising

Slowly rising above the dark clouds

Upon this sliver of light that is only you.

***

She woke up,

gasping for breath;

And, yet,

she was never asleep.

No.  There is no waking from this dream.

***

(My version of "Asleep In My Heart")

If I could have but one more day,

we'd walk again our favorite way,

Mom and son together as before,

eating out, watching movies and more.

No pillows to throw, no plate to fill,

your artworks unfinished, your books lay still,

no welcome kiss and hug, no peaceful snore,

an empty trandel bed upon the floor.

If I could hold you once again,

I'd kiss your head, I'd call your name,

I'd whisper gently as we part,

You're safe, asleep within my heart. 

***

Here

In the most secret chamber of my heart

Where darkness surrounds

My barely breathing light

I cry out to You

to Your humanity

In love anguished;

a heart heavy with loss

I cry out to You

to Your divinity

In faith tormented;

a soul lost to wandering

Here

In the most secret chamber of my heart,

Where darkness trembles

For You to set me back on fire.

I wait for You.

***

You breathed life to my heart

and gave it wings.

It soared.

Then it plummeted, crashing,

the day your soul took flight.

***

... It could have eaten other gods.

Instead it ate my Sun.

And thoughtfully left behind a gift.

I carry it with me everywhere and always.

Grief.

***

My soul is bleeding in parts I never knew existed.

(I was going to give this boy all of me, down to my very stump)

***

Tonight I went through the walls of my room;

Everything he owned, used, touched, held, made;

All the mess;

All the things that screamed, 

" I was here!"

I touched all of them,

Feeling as though I was grasping sand;

And I had to comfort myself, repeating,

"It was real.  He was here.

And he loved you."

***

When the flurry of the 1st Christmas settled to silence,

Grief spilled over.

I walk the corridors of my heart

I hear the loud echoing emptiness

There is nothing here, it screams

Not even a whisper --- of you.

*

Do not be silent nor turn away.

Talk about him.

I want you to remember with me.

It's my only proof

that it wasn't all just a dream.

*

Everyone goes on living,

While I keep dying inside.

*

You were oxygen to my heart

Water for my parched soul

Now, I can't breathe!

*

Outside my window,

a sliver of light

As I rock myself 

to the rhythm of my sobs

Praying for sleep.

Art by:  Louie Artista