"No Mother Should Have to Bury Her Child"

I found the following poem from this website: http://www.calebwilde.com/2011/05/a-poem-for-mothers-who-have-lost/.

Don’t Tell Me

Please don’t tell me you know how I feel,

Unless you have lost your child too.

Please don’t tell me my broken heart will heal,

Because that is just not true.

Please don’t tell me my son is in a better place,

Though it is true, I want him here with me.

Don’t tell me someday I’ll hear his voice, see his face,

Beyond today I cannot see.

Don’t tell me it is time to move on,

Because I cannot.

Don’t tell me to face the fact he is gone,

Because denial is something I can’t stop.

Don’t tell me to be thankful for the time I had,

Because I wanted more.

Don’t tell me when I am my old self you will be glad,

I’ll never be as I was before.

What you can tell me is you will be here for me,

That you will listen when I talk of my child.

You can share with me my precious memories,

You can even cry with me for a while.

And please don’t hesitate to say his name,

Because it is something I long to hear everyday.

Friend please realize that I can never be the same,

But if you stand by me,

You may like the new person I become someday.


I can’t imagine what the parents of those 20 kids are going through at the moment, especially that their kids’ bodies are still a part of the “crime scene” until now. My heart goes out to all of these parents. President Barack Obama was right. Tonight, I would be hugging my son tighter. I will thank God for giving me another chance to do that tonight. I will also ask Him to hug those little angels (and those adults who perished with them) because most probably, they do not even know what just happened to them until now.  

Eternal rest grant unto them O, Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them.
May their souls and all the souls of the faithfully departed through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

They are our generation! 👍😍🎶🎸(Photo taken on 10/13/2012) 😘 We (actually my husband and our friend) drove more than 200 miles (that’s one way, so more than 400 forth & back) to see them perform. We left Las Vegas before 12 noon and after 2 short stop overs, we arrived at the Hollywood Palladium along Sunset Blvd in Los Angeles. To cut the long story short, it was an epic night as everyone seemed to party with the band — singing with them and ‘bouncing’ to their beats. Yeah, you got it right. People were bouncing because the place was ‘jampacked’. The concert was worth the money, the fatigue & the effort. Iba pa rin ang Eraserheads! And I still have ‘Torpedo’ for LSS. Haha.

🎶Read me, maybe…🎶 😜😜😜 (Taken with Instagram at Windmill Library)

The caterpillar on the fallen petunia

Huawei M735 3MP Camera

Longoria St., May 03, 2012

               Yesterday was the 28th death anniversary of my older brother Ronillo. According to our mother, my brother was just 7-months old when she found out that she was pregnant with me. Needless to say, we gave them quite a hard time since my Kuya was sickly and I needed a lot of attention when I was born (of course, haha).  And then, before my 2nd birthday, my brother Aljer was born.
               I can still recall bits and pieces of our times together as playful tots, although in my young age, I knew then that there was something different about our Kuya. He was always sick and he cried easily. He wanted to play on his own, stayed on one corner building things out of the cassette tape cases/holders. To me, he was, sometimes, “madamot”. He did not want to share stuff most of the time and my mother explained that it was because I did things faster than he did. I ate faster, moved faster and talked faster. So by the time that my Kuya was just biting his 3rd, I’d finished mine, then, I’d ask for more (haha, takaw.)☺ He even invented my most dreaded childhood nickname —“Dugas”— just because I took whatever I thought he had left on his plate and ate it. (And man, I tell you, when I was about 9 years old, I fought a grown man all my might just because he teased me with that nickname. I did not talk to him ever after that time. I guess he apologized to my parents but I so hated him. No one called me that ever since.☺)
               Kuya Ronie was an intelligent kid. Nanay said, they were expecting that he’d get the 2nd honors in Kindergarten as he was either 1st or 2nd for the first 3 grading periods. He ended up 3rd, and my mother did not take it lightly. The principal said, during the final exams, my brother had multiple errors in Reading. Kuya said, there were times when after he blinked, the pages he was reading became blank. And that started it all. Nanay pushed me to read early, which eventually, pushed me to be the best that I could be in grade school. And then, Kuya was given more attention as he became more sickly.
               Whenever we got an illness that couldn’t be cured with Biogesic, Tempra, tawas, achuete leaves and massage, Nanay would always bring us to Dr. Ilano in Imus. Kuya was an ‘avid visitor’ of his clinic. But it was different that summer. He broke his limbs one after another, had a lot of bruises and got tired easily. He was examined by the doctor and was diagnosed to have a rheumatic heart. The doctor gave my mother the prescriptions and told her to take care of him more, to prevent him from getting tired. On his 7th birthday, our grandma and our parents prepared a big celebration. “Patay-baboy” — and the blood of the pig was spread inside our house so as to shoo away mean spirits ‘guarding’ my brother. I believed he enjoyed his party as much as I did but he got tired right away so he just took a red balloon and sat down in a corner.
               Around a month after that, he got sick again. He had a high fever and no matter what my parents did, he did not improve. Dr. Ilano told them to bring him to the Philippine General Hospital (a place which brings sad memories to me) and was found out to have Leukemia. Yeah, cancer of the blood. My mother did not blame Dr. Ilano because according to the doctors at PGH, his prescriptions were for it. He just didn’t tell my mother the gravity of the situation since she was her patient also.
               On July 12, 1984, after a few days at PGH, my brother passed away. His only hope for survival was the very thing that killed him — bone marrow.
               28 years after, I still remember him. Sometimes, I still dream about him. I wonder how he looks like now. I wonder if he’s watching over us. We were not together for a long time, but growing up, I’d say I missed him more. You know the thought that sometimes you really needed an older brother that you know you had but he’s no longer there? That’s what goes on in my mind most of the times. Well, wherever he may be, I know he’s okay and I know that he misses us too. And as always, there is a reason why he was taken away from us that early. Most probably, that’s the reason why I am who I am now.
(Photo: Kuya wearing his favorite - Voltes V suspenders and I wearing a very comfy and sexy outfit- haha)

               Yesterday was the 28th death anniversary of my older brother Ronillo. According to our mother, my brother was just 7-months old when she found out that she was pregnant with me. Needless to say, we gave them quite a hard time since my Kuya was sickly and I needed a lot of attention when I was born (of course, haha).  And then, before my 2nd birthday, my brother Aljer was born.

               I can still recall bits and pieces of our times together as playful tots, although in my young age, I knew then that there was something different about our Kuya. He was always sick and he cried easily. He wanted to play on his own, stayed on one corner building things out of the cassette tape cases/holders. To me, he was, sometimes, “madamot”. He did not want to share stuff most of the time and my mother explained that it was because I did things faster than he did. I ate faster, moved faster and talked faster. So by the time that my Kuya was just biting his 3rd, I’d finished mine, then, I’d ask for more (haha, takaw.)☺ He even invented my most dreaded childhood nickname —“Dugas”— just because I took whatever I thought he had left on his plate and ate it. (And man, I tell you, when I was about 9 years old, I fought a grown man all my might just because he teased me with that nickname. I did not talk to him ever after that time. I guess he apologized to my parents but I so hated him. No one called me that ever since.☺)

               Kuya Ronie was an intelligent kid. Nanay said, they were expecting that he’d get the 2nd honors in Kindergarten as he was either 1st or 2nd for the first 3 grading periods. He ended up 3rd, and my mother did not take it lightly. The principal said, during the final exams, my brother had multiple errors in Reading. Kuya said, there were times when after he blinked, the pages he was reading became blank. And that started it all. Nanay pushed me to read early, which eventually, pushed me to be the best that I could be in grade school. And then, Kuya was given more attention as he became more sickly.

               Whenever we got an illness that couldn’t be cured with Biogesic, Tempra, tawas, achuete leaves and massage, Nanay would always bring us to Dr. Ilano in Imus. Kuya was an ‘avid visitor’ of his clinic. But it was different that summer. He broke his limbs one after another, had a lot of bruises and got tired easily. He was examined by the doctor and was diagnosed to have a rheumatic heart. The doctor gave my mother the prescriptions and told her to take care of him more, to prevent him from getting tired. On his 7th birthday, our grandma and our parents prepared a big celebration. “Patay-baboy” — and the blood of the pig was spread inside our house so as to shoo away mean spirits ‘guarding’ my brother. I believed he enjoyed his party as much as I did but he got tired right away so he just took a red balloon and sat down in a corner.

               Around a month after that, he got sick again. He had a high fever and no matter what my parents did, he did not improve. Dr. Ilano told them to bring him to the Philippine General Hospital (a place which brings sad memories to me) and was found out to have Leukemia. Yeah, cancer of the blood. My mother did not blame Dr. Ilano because according to the doctors at PGH, his prescriptions were for it. He just didn’t tell my mother the gravity of the situation since she was her patient also.

               On July 12, 1984, after a few days at PGH, my brother passed away. His only hope for survival was the very thing that killed him — bone marrow.

               28 years after, I still remember him. Sometimes, I still dream about him. I wonder how he looks like now. I wonder if he’s watching over us. We were not together for a long time, but growing up, I’d say I missed him more. You know the thought that sometimes you really needed an older brother that you know you had but he’s no longer there? That’s what goes on in my mind most of the times. Well, wherever he may be, I know he’s okay and I know that he misses us too. And as always, there is a reason why he was taken away from us that early. Most probably, that’s the reason why I am who I am now.

(Photo: Kuya wearing his favorite - Voltes V suspenders and I wearing a very comfy and sexy outfit- haha)

Chrizo: Top 100: Funny Quotes and One-Liners

thegreatest:

1. ”How do you get a sweet little 80-year-old lady to say the F word? Get another sweet little 80-year-old lady to yell ‘BINGO!’” - Unknown
2. “When I die, I want to die like my grandfather who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car.” - Will Rogers
3.

Haha.☺

Happy Headbangin’ Tuesday — Our usual dose of day-off free rock and roll concert!🎸🎸🎸 #rockn’roll #guitarman #heavymetal #espguitars (Taken with Instagram)