Gabriel Garcia Marquez_A Letter To My Friends

Tonight I am wistful. H has just left for Vietnam and once again we are apart.

I am wistful too because tonight, I looked intently into a dear friend's photograph and saw great sadness masked behind a smile. I know those eyes so well. And my heart breaks to see you in such pain. I wish to share in your sadness but for reasons only known to you, you refuse to let me into your life at this point. And so I share in your sorrow from afar. I pray for you and storm the heavens for your loved ones. I find comfort in knowing that God stands in the gap, in the chasm that you opt to build between us, for now.

Nothing by accident...Tonight I stumbled upon this beautiful letter, written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer. My friend Ardy, from whose blog I discovered this piece, says that we should not wait until the last minute to write a letter such as this. Marquez's words shine through the darkest of nights. His sorrow has given birth to such wisdom that leaves us breathless and inspires us to do just as he has written...

This is for H, and all my loved ones, and my dear friend... may this illumine the dark night of your soul. If God, for a second, forgot what I have become and granted me a little bit more of life, I would use it to the best of my ability. I wouldn't, possibly, say everything that is in my mind, but I would be more thoughtful of all I say. I would give merit to things not for what they are worth, but for what they mean to express. I would sleep little, I would dream more, because I know that for every minute that we close our eyes, we waste 60 seconds of light. I would walk while others stop; I would awake while others sleep. If God would give me a little bit more of life, I would dress in a simple manner, I would place myself in front of the sun, leaving not only my body, but my soul naked at its mercy. To all men, I would say how mistaken they are when they think that they stop falling in love when they grow old, without knowing that they grow old when they stop falling in love. I would give wings to children, but I would leave it to them to learn how to fly by themselves. To old people I would say that death doesn't arrive when they grow old, but with forgetfulness. I have learned so much with you all, I have learned that everybody wants to live on top of the mountain, without knowing that true happiness is obtained in the journey taken & the form used to reach the top of the hill. I have learned that when a newborn baby holds, with its little hand,his father's finger, it has trapped him for the rest of his life. I have learned that a man has the right and obligation to look down at another man, only when that man needs help to get up from the ground. Say always what you feel, not what you think. If I knew that today is the last time that that I am going to see you asleep, I would hug you with all my strength and I would pray to the Lord to let me be the guardian angel of your soul. If I knew that these are the last moments to see you, I would say 'I love you'. There is always tomorrow, and life gives us another opportunity to do things right, but in case I am wrong, and today is all that is left to me, I would love to tell you how much I love you & that I will never forget you. Tomorrow is never guaranteed to anyone, young or old. Today could bethe last time to see your loved ones, which is why you mustn't wait;do it today, in case tomorrow never arrives.

I am sure you will be sorry you wasted the opportunity today to give a smile, a hug, a kiss, and that you were too busy to grant them their last wish. Keep your loved ones near you; tell them in their ears and to their faces how much you need them and love them. Love them and treat them well; take your time to tell them 'I am sorry';' forgive me','please' 'thank you', and all those loving words you know. Nobody will know you for your secret thought. Ask the Lord for wisdom and strength to express them. Show your friends and loved ones how important they are to you. Send this letter to those you love. If you don't do it today...tomorrow will be like yesterday, and if you never do it, it doesn't matter either, the moment to do it is now. For you, With much love, Your Friend, Gabriel Garcia Marquez Thanks to my online buddy and friend, Ardy Roberto, for leading me to this beautiful reflection.

Raphe, Renz and LT Remember Rudy, the morning after

Published in my Roots&Wings column on June 15, 2008 in the PHILIPPINE DAILY INQUIRER My heart broke when I saw photos of Raphe and Renz Fernandez as they spoke at their father’s necrological service. In the same breath, I was in awe of his widow, Lorna as she sat listening to her husband’s speak of their fond memories of him – clearly a picture of beautiful grace and faith under pressure. To grieve in itself is a difficult process to go through. So much more when you have to do it under the public eye. The Fernandez family is blessed in the sense that Rudy was able to prepare them and prepare himself to meet his Maker. Rudy had been quoted as saying that he was often in deep conversation with the Lord because he wanted to get to know him better. “After all, I will be meeting him soon,” he quipped. Speaking to Raphe, Renz and Lorna the day after Rudy’s burial, my heart was warmed by the genuine closeness this family possessed. Raphe’s professor and thesis mentor at the Ateneo, Dr. Rofel Brion, had introduced me to him a few years back when he was working on a paper about his grandfather, the late great movie director Gregorio Fernandez. He had always struck me as a bright, young and sensitive young man. The morning we spoke, he seemed fully in control as kuya and now the man of the family. The Fernandez’s had decided to sleep in the same room after Rudy’s wake. Choosing to cocoon and stay together, finding solace in one another. The boys were still both groggy when I talked to them, still reeling and tired from the week’s past events. Lorna says that Rudy had indeed prepared them well and for that she was very grateful. She paused when I reminded her that Sunday was Father’s day and I could hear a slight sigh from the other end of the phone. “It’s his 9th day….” She said. It was comforting for her to know that all these “coincidences” seemed to be orchestrated from above. She said that she was very proud of her boys and the way by which they were handling their loss. “We really did not have that much time to talk to one another while we were at Heritage until one night when Raphe approached me with a problem and so finally we had to sit down as one family. I was tired and a bit upset and I was thinking to myself quietly, diba dapat ako naman ang alagaan nyo muna… until Renz said something that made me stop – sabi niya, “Mama, mag-alagaan na lang tayo.” Lorna said. I smiled when I heard that, and thought to myself, yes, Rudy had prepared his boys very well. I asked Raphe why he opted to do an extemporaneous eulogy and he said simply that it was because he wanted it to just flow. And flow it did. As well as the tears of the thousands who had come to mourn their very public loss as they listened to him talk. When I asked him what he would remember the most about his father, he said that there wasn’t a single lesson he could his place his finger on because there were just too many. “To place a number on it would diminish the importance of the others. It was really in the way he lived, the way he loved us and showed us that he cared. It wasn’t really through words, but more through actions. Whatever legacy he has left us, nasa dugo na namin. These lessons will be easily remembered and called upon when the times become tough.” For now, Lorna says, they just want to rest and be by themselves. Travel maybe to some quiet place where they can be refreshed. Sleep still does not come easy to her or the boys and every nook and cranny of their home carries with them some portion of Rudy. The emotions, she shares are so intense, some moments she cries out for him, on others she is as still as she normally is. “It’s really more the loss of the person himself that drives you to sadness,” she says. As in any other loss of a loved one, it is the longing for the one who is gone that is the most painful. Coming home after the funeral, upon entering the den, Lorna says, it finally hit her that her Rudy was truly gone. For now it is just her and the boys who fill her world. It is a long process yet, she knows, and this brave family’s grief work has just begun. The manner by which Rudy prepared his family for his loss is a poignant example on dying well, one, that many of us can learn from. And his widow and sons openness and care for each other under the most stressful of times, is a gift and a beautiful lesson to us all on how to grieve well. Rudy, would certainly be proud

Losing Pare

There is a pall of gloom upon my house right now.

Last night our helper lost our beloved three year old pug, Pare. Right under her nose. Right under her watch.

We came home at 6:30PM and I recall seeing him briefly in the garage. By 845PM, M, our helper said casually, "Wala si Pare?" I was no longer able to finish my dinner, as did the kids. I flew out of the house, on to the streets in my tsinelas and began looking for him. After about 20 minutes of going up and down our streets, I decided to drive to my mom's house, pick up two of her helpers and when we got back home, resumed our search. We did not find him.

Today we put up posters on all the village gates, sent out flyers to all our neighbors and prayed. But I am numb. I cannot even cry. Neither can Pia, who loved the dog dearly. I don't know, maybe when you have experienced one loss after another, something in you dies. either that or your heart just becomes stronger? I don't know.

It's now almost 24 hours since he disappeared. I hope that whoever has him is good to him. I pray he will be returned to us by someone whose conscience will bother him or her. I mean what blessing can there be in a stolen dog? You have taken someone else's joy. God sees everything, whoever you are.

We are sad. So sad but life has to go on. It's a painful loss. I know it's not quite right to say but -- better a dog than a person. Para na lang hindi ako masyadong malungkot.

A part of me wants to strangle the helper who lost him. She's really been such a challenge to us. And now this. Sanctions obviously have to be put into place. He was a beloved family dog.

My family's grief is in suspended animation right now. We are sad but we cannot cry just yet. And again, I keep telling myself and my children, God allows this for a reason. May we be able to discern it. And if it is part of His plan, may He return Pare back home to us.

Choosing Hope

I'm being tested. I just know it. "You cannot serve two masters..." I'm angsty tonight. Some things I cannot explain, no matter how hard I try to understand. Maybe for now, I am not meant to. "I'm angsty," I told my daughter. "Yes, it radiates from your pores mama," she says. "Why?" I ask her. "Why is __________ taking it out on me? What have I done?" I ask her, my 17 year old going on 45 daughter. "Because you are there and because _________ is confused and hurting and you are the only available target for that pain," she says. I stop, and think. She makes sense. A lot of it. We have the makings of a brilliant psychiatrist here. What do I want to tell YOU? I just want you to know that I continue to pray for you. That no matter how much you uknowingly or knowingly try to hurt me, it's okay. It makes me angsty, but I'll get over it. Maybe I should just take you out of the equation and focus on why I am here, at this time. And why I do the things I do. It's not about you. No longer about you, or me. This is BEYOND you and me. Maybe HE is testing me -- who do you serve? What is your purpose? In case you are reading this I want to share with you what Ken Gire said -- "When suffering shatters the carefully kept vase that is our lives, God stoops to pick up the pieces. But he doesn't put them back together as a restoration project patterned after our former selves. Instead, he sifts through the rubble and selects some of the shards as raw material for another project -- a mosaic that tells the story of redemption." I know this is a tough time for you. And no matter how much you try to convince yourself, no partner, or friend or loved one can make it better. Only God will see you through. I pray that you find hope instead of despair and find joy in the midst of your sorrow. It's really always a choice. I pray that you find forgiveness instead of hate. Let's stop focusing on ourselves and instead focus our love and support on the person who needs it. Let us find joy in the miracles we are being shown even if in your eyes they seem inconsequential, they are miracles nevertheless, and God's hand is at work, just the same. When crisis comes, you have no choice but to build yourself a "new normal". Things will never return to the way they were. There is no "catching up" on lost time in the work and personal front. Adjustments need to be made. Stop pushing people away and making them the target of your pain. I pray that you find, as Ken Gire says, your "redemption". Choose life, and open yourself up to the many possibiities that this new normal brings. It's late. My heart is heavy but I know this will pass. Tomorrow will be better. It always is.

From A Sister To A Brother, Ten Years Later

Ten years ago, on an early evening not very different from today, our lives were changed forever by the loss of our eldest son, Migi.

Much has been written and said about that life-changing event, the nigtmare that you wold not wish, even on your worst enemy. The loss of a loved one changes you forever. The loss of a child leaves a mark on your heart and soul, so deep, that ten years later, as you draw a finger across the wound, you can still feel the ridges of the scar, and you cannot help but remember.

But today, ten years later, you are able to remember with thankfulness, for the brief time given to you, to parent a little boy who filled your life with great love and joy for four years. Our lives have been forever changed by your loss, Migi, and in the process, so many lives, ironically, have been made better by the searing pain of your departure.

Last night, I caught P, holed up in one of the rooms of our house, crying buckets while scribbling away on a notebook. She said that she would share its contents with me today. I thought that this was one anniversary where I would be able to get through the day without tears, but no, here I am at 7PM, crying buckets myself as I read this. Today, I sent out messages to special friends and family who had helped us navigate the journey this last decade. Now, with my daughter's permission, I share with you her beautiful memories of her eldest brother and how loss can impact a heart's child, just as deeply, perhaps even more than we as adults feel it. And how, in the process, the gift of loss is that it blesses you with a heart and mind wiser beyond that of your peers, and an unshakeable faith that no matter what happens, God will see you through.

Dear You.

I will admit I have absolutely no idea about what possessed me to write this letter. I thought that maybe it was because I’ve been so caught up in my vulnerability- I am a teenager after all. But it wasn’t that. It’s tomorrow, and my realization that after so long - there are still so many things that I haven’t told you.

So forgive me, your emotionally caught up sister, for waiting so long to tell you these things. For never taking a few precious moments to look upward and express the things I’ve always been meaning to say. But don’t get me wrong, I never forgot you. Not a single day goes by when you don’t cross my mind. In fact, it seems like so many of the small things I encounter on a day to day basis become catalysts for this overflow of memories of you.

I’m actually writing this from what used to be our old playroom- do you remember it the way I do? The blue carpet that always smelled like our dog, Casper; the yellow Little Tykes chairs with the matching table-Do you remember how I tried to teach you how to color within the lines one day and you ended up coloring the table? Those marks, they’re still there. So are the dinosaur stickers we stuck on the headboard of the Ikea bed, those glow in the dark stars in the bathroom door.. They’re all still around, little reminders of you. I still sleep in that bedroom we used to share. You may not recognize it, with the purple closets and the shelves dripping with books, but it still that same room to me. The one we used to build forts in with the yayas. The same one where you took your favorite mini golf club and whacked me on the head with (Though of course I’ve long forgiven you for that!). And the same one you walked with me to that night it went brown out and we were in mom and dad’s room. I was scared, so scared, that someone would just reach out from the dark and grab me! But your less afraid, more mature self at age three took me by the hand and said, “Ate, don’t be so silly!”. Without you, I never would have been able to change into my pajamas that night! But on a more serious note, each time I remember that moment I gain a little more faith in those circumstances where I am so filled with doubt. I may not be able to see where exactly I am going, but I have come to realize I’m never really alone.

So thank you. For giving me some of the sweetest, most meaningful memories any older sister could ask for, even in the short, four years we had together. It taught me quite possibly more than I’ve even learned in my 15 years of being in school. You taught me the concept of being a good best friend-you were mine. It wasn’t about the amount of time we spent together, but how we spent that time. You made every minute, every second count for me. Even in those moments where you would have attacks and palpitations - I was never really afraid, or even traumatized. I grew to have this sense of responsibility and care that I only show towards those who mean most to me in life. I grew to learn how to empathize with people in situations not everyone can understand. I learned how to fight hardest for those closest to my heart- even if that means I can get hurt in the process. You also prepared me for another big role I’m going to have to deal with for the rest of my life- being a excellent older sister.

You never met Leon. It’s one of the things that actually saddens me most- I can imagine life being so much crazier if I had the two of you around, driving me nuts. But I guess the Big Guy up there had other plans.


He’s not you, this Leon. He came into my life so soon after I lost you- but I never, not for a single second ever thought he would, or could replace you. He’s the smartest, geekiest, and most entertaining ball of energy of a brother any one could ask for. He’s very different from you, my calm, serene brother with the sad eyes, but I love you both the same. I just wish you had met him. This insane little boy who will dare to cut his own hair to look like the avatar (I bet you were whispering in his ear and egging him on!), but is sweet and honest enough to call any boy that hurts his sister a “provoking ass”. You two were parts of my life at completely different times, but without either of you, I would feel incomplete. He has always considered you kuya though. I know that it was you tickling him as a baby, being that angel that appeared in his dreams at night, leaving that permanent smile on his face. He remembers you that way.

I guess I’ve expressed my gratitude, now I think it’s time I tell you that thing I never told you enough when I still could. The last time you told me this was that night you called me after your surgery, you remember that? If only I knew that would be the last time I would ever talk to you again, then maybe I wouldn’t have run off to watch Madeline so eagerly that night. But I realize now that God had a reason for even that.

I love you, Miguel, I really do. Not did, but do. I loved you for who you were in my life as a child- my brother with the special heart. I love you for being the person who I believe has made the biggest impact on who I am today. You taught me a lot while you were still around. I love you because even today, you serve as one of my biggest inspirations. I love you because even if you may not be around physically, to say, pick me up from school or give me a hug when I’m lonely- but you are with me every single minute of every single day. I’m never really alone, am I. I may not know what the future holds for me, or what to do the exact moment I am faced with a crisis. But I live each day with the knowledge that there is still that one person out there who will take me by the hand and take me in the right direction of every dark moment. Thank you for being my guardian angel.

I know this has come a decade late, but I believe you were there at that moment I felt like writing this. You’re probably even reading this over my shoulder- I hope with a smile. Always know that your ate’s love for you is boundless Migi- it goes beyond the distance between the earth and the skies.  Happy 10th Birthday in Heaven, I hope you’re having a blast with the dinosaurs. I’ll see you someday.
♥ your ate, pia