Midlife Mysteries | Musings and Ramblings at 40something

Farewell, Tara Santelices, 23

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 22:50:00 +0000

Her heart finally gave up at 4AM today.

After being rushed to the ICU two days ago, Tara Santelices, 23 passed away at The Medical City due to cardiac arrest.

It has been almost a year-long struggle for Tara and her family - parents, Larry and Anne; her sisters Iya and Gita and all her friends who loved her dearly. Through this tragic event she had inspired so many people - both young and old - to pull together for a common cause. Brief though her life may have been, it was a life that touched so many, mine included, teaching me once more of the possibilities of love and hope, reminding me about how one should never put things off, or leave anything unsaid.

I went to visit her two weeks ago because something inside of me was drawn to re-visiting her story, to see how life had changed for her and her family in the year since the accident. I expected to be depressed and so I prepared myself mentally and emotionally for the encounter. Instead, I found a miracle and was blessed to have a front-row seat to one family's devotion, unconditional love and hope.

I read somewhere that, "We are conditioned to think that our lives revolvearound great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one." I was gifted with the chance to look and be with Tara up close. To hold her and tell her to give it a fight, to thank her for touching all our lives so deeply in the way that she did. I held her hand, and she gripped it firmly back. Doctors will say that it was probably reflex, it really doesn't matter now, it is one moment that I shall treasure all my life.

Tara's loss reminds us of the brevity of life, of how we need to live fully each day, never setting aside for tomorrow what we can do in the moment. I thank God for giving me the privilige to write her story, from beginning to end. I had hesitated on visiting her but chose instead to heed my inner voice, and I am grateful that I did because now I have no regrets. I thank HIM too for hiw wisdom and guidance, had I sent in the story a day later, it would have been too late. I will miss Tara but I am thankful for that moment that I shared with her before she died, and to be able to do that one last thing for her and her parents.

We pray now for the loved ones she has left behind and that in her leaving, justice may be served - for her and all other victims of heinous crime.

There is nothing like loss to remind you to embrace life ever so tightly. "Grief, breaks down the barriers of ego, to open up the spirit." We thank God for Tara's brief but full life. May her leaving remind us all of how we must not take things for granted, of how important it is to show love, kindness and affection whenever we can because tomorrow is never guaranteed to us.

Tara Santelices, One Year After The Accident

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 16:31:00 +0000

Hope and love were so thick the afternoon I entered Tara Santelices bright green bedroom.

“It is the one thing we hold on to, and so we cannot let it go,” Larry Santelices, Tara’s father, tells me that rainy day I came to visit. Outside, the small, simply furnished townhouse where Tara lay, attended to by her midwife, Babes, rain was pouring hard. It’s almost been a year now, August 9, 2008 -- the evening Tara was shot in the head by an unknown assailant inside a jeepney somewhere in Cainta. It was also the eve of her 23rd birthday.

The young woman had just graduated from the Ateneo de Manila University the year before with a degree in Political Science and was active in the band circuit while at the same time working for Upland Marketing , an NGO. “She had many dreams. She wanted to go to law school someday…” Santelices says, his voice trailing off as he gazes far into the distance. He bears no bitterness for what has happened and instead says that the whole family has come to an acceptance of the way things are. “We choose to be thankful for the 23 years that we were given, when she was healthy and so full of life.”

Nowadays, Tara lies fast asleep on most hours of the day, her brain has incurred permanent damage, the many shrapnels remain floating in her head. When I went to see her, it did look like she was just sleeping yet opening her dark brown eyes once in a while. Very fair, her hair tied into a neat ponytail, she looked much healthier than the last time I saw her at the hospital. Larry and Anne say that once in a while, she gifts them with a miracle. “I’d like to believe that she can see,” Anne says. “She looks at us intently using her good eye (her left eye is blind and totally damaged), and every now and then, when she is awake, she grips my hand firmly or blinks her eyes. I know she is there, somewhere…” Anne Santelices relates.

The couple and their two daughters, Iya and Gita shuttle between their home in Cainta and the small townhouse in Quezon City owned by Anne’s brother who works overseas. Tara lives with her grandmother and the two midwives who rotate on 12-hour shifts and look after her needs. The Santelices family is happier and more settled now that she has been brought home after an eight-month confinement at The Medical City where their bill reached a whopping 4M pesos. Santelices says that the hospital was kind enough to give them time to pay for the bill, a huge part of which was subsidized by the PCSO. However, the balance of around 1.3M pesos is something that they continue to struggle with on a day-to-day basis. This is in addition to spending roughly 90,000 pesos a month for Tara’s care and the family’s other needs. Tara’s milk alone, Peptamen, costs them at least a thousand pesos per can each day.

The couple say that once in a while they do break down and wonder how much longer they will be able to sustain Tara. “Her heart is strong now, but what do we do when the organs start to fail?“ Yet, they continue to be buoyed by their faith and their hope for a miracle. “Nothing in this life is really under our control. Not once did we question God,” Anne says. I am momentarily floored by her statement, but amazed by her unswerving faith. “There must be a reason for all of this. Always, there is a reason for the pain.”

Unfortunately, the wheels of justice have turned so slowly. The Cainta police declared the case closed and are staunch in saying that they had already caught the culprit and shot him down. However, Larry refutes this and says that two witnesses from the scene said that the man the police caught was not the same one who shot Tara that fateful night.

“That is the difficult part of this journey. Knowing that the man who shot our daughter continues to roam the streets…” Larry Santelices says. But rather than focus on being angry, the couple choose to focus their energies on work, on caring for Tara, and on “Tara’s Theme” a benefit concert they hope to put up in October to help raise funds to pay off the debts incurred in Tara’s hospitalization. “It’s amazing how people have come together, to perform the songs and the music that Tara loved while she was growing up. Jose Mari Chan , Karylle and Bloomfields are some of the performers who have so far given their nod to perform at the benefit show.

Leaving the townhouse under an overcast sky and the fading afternoon light, I was reminded of what Dr. Jerome Groopman, professor of Immunology at Harvard Medical School and chief of Experimental Medicine at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center wrote in his best-selling book, “The Anatomy of Hope” -- “To hope under the most extreme circumstances is an act of defiance that, permits a person to live his life on his own terms. It is part of the human spirit to endure and give a miracle a chance to happen.”

My Father's Love

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 01:28:00 +0000

A wonderful gift was given to me this year and I have my Heavenly Father to thank for it.

For many years I was searching for my father whom I lost when I was 16. This year, that search has been put to rest. And on this day, I remember him with fondness and honor his memory with this song that is so beautiful. Thank you dad, and Abba Father for your gifts of comfort and grace...

Back To The Seventies

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 16:50:00 +0000

I entered my teen years in the late seventies. A period which one could probably qualify as the golden age of OPM (Original Pilipino Music). It's been raining giant cats and dogs in Manila and I found myself searching for the songs that I used to love as a teener. Here are just a couple of songs that I love to this day...

I love the lyrics of this song and the melody is just as beautiful :)

This next one is a classic that I also never tire listening to, especially on a rainy day.

Are You Raising A Pervert?

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 11:27:00 +0000

All this talk about sex, lies and videotapes hogging the news on a daily basis was enough to get parents like myself paranoid about the values or attitudes we teach our children regarding healthy sexuality.

But how do you protect one's child from being victimized by perverts?

Although there is no fool-proof way I guess it all begins with education, at the right time and the right place, and discussing these issues in the context of love, marriage and a healthy respect for one’s body and the opposite sex.

Discussions such as these best take place in the tween years, before a son or daughter enters the age of puberty, when suddenly all these raging hormones can send them into a tailspin. I remember reading a book during those highly confusing early teen-age years, entitled, “Why I Am I So Miserable If These Are The Best Years of My Life?” written by Andrea Boroff Eagan. Teen-age angst to the max if you judge a book by it’s cover, but it was the classic on puberty in the 1980s and a survival handbook of sorts for young girls like me back then.

Today, there are countless books and websites available to help parents discuss puberty and sexuality issues and topics with their children and adolescents. I did a quick survey over the week-end among parents and a group of 17 and 18 year old young men and women and I was surprised about what I found. Here are some of the more important points that I discovered…

Many mothers (and fathers) from upper and upper-middle class families remain ill-equipped or feel awkward about discussing the issues of puberty with their children. Median age, if and when the subject was discussed was around 11 or 12 years of age, at the onset of menstruation. Some progressive mothers and fathers would often take the lead in discussing topics such as boy-girl relationships, physical and emotional changes, in a casual manner which the children seemed to appreciate very much.

Most of the young people I surveyed (7 out of 10) preferred to hear the discussion regarding “sex and all that” from their parents but suggested that in order for the talks to go smoothly, “The parents must have a close relationship to the child prior to talking about these topics otherwise it will be very awkward.” The young men and women also would have preferred that the parents be open to their questions and not be judgmental in the “I know better, so listen to me, type of way.” It was also important for them that the topic be discussed in private away from the ears of younger siblings.

Current situations, such as a pet dog or cat giving birth, meeting a single mother or father, watching a movie together where relationship issues are being tackled, or even the latest news about the Kho-Belo-Halili scandal can provide teachable moments. In the car the other night, while my husband, 18-year daughter and I were discussing the possibility of stripping Haydn Kho of his medical license because of the un-gentlemanly and dastardly deed he had done, our 10-year old cut into the conversation and asked worriedly, “Are you supposed to be discussing this in front of me?!” We all laughed and told him that yes, he was old enough to hear what we had to say about the issues. Of course the gory details were left out for his 10-year old ears.

4. Conversations regarding puberty and sex are best supplemented by books -- “The Care and Keeping of You - The Body Book for Girls” and “The Feelings Book - the care and keeping of your emotions” published by the American Girl library are excellent resources. “The Pink Locker Society” --http://pinklockersociety.org/ is a new novel and website for tween girls that provides sought-after puberty information within a fictional storyline and plot. Pink Locker is part of the excellent children’s website www.kidshealth.org was recently launched to help young girls understand their bodies and emotions better. The same website has a wealth of information, written both for children and parents on many health topics and issues. For young boys, one of the best books available is “Where Did I Come From?” by Peter Mayle (yes, the famous Peter Mayle) and it is a book that can be read even at the age of nine, or way before any kind of malice (as many little boys are won’t to develop often because of peer pressure) sets in. Mayle has a gift for translating adult experiences into child-level concepts that really make the book a good read. You must be open-minded though and ready to answer your son or daughter’s questions on some of the topics he discusses in the book.

5. Sharing stories about one’s own puberty is better appreciated by girls rather than boys. The girls I surveyed said that as long as their mothers were comfortable and not giddy or queasy, they loved hearing stories of how they were at that age. The boys said they would find hearing those stories from their parents “weird”. Some boys said that maybe a general story would be okay but felt that they would not want the gory details because they might feel embarrassed for their parents.

Many parents are unfortunately still of the mind-set that “if you don’t talk about it, it won’t happen.” Look at your own attitudes regarding sexuality and be careful about what you say and do, because these send signals to your children. Role-modeling and limit setting is just as important when discussing issues such as puberty, sex, love and marriage. Your family’s standards and values system must be made clear to the child, concrete enough for him or her to feel and know it even if he or she is far away from you. The values of respecting one’s body, the avoidance of risk-taking behaviors need to be firmly set in his or her psyche so that in the middle of the cacophony of the temptations -- of power, fame, wealth, sex, drugs and what have you later on, it is something that he or she can grab on to as they stand their ground against a crazy world.

Dinosaurs and Monarch Butterflies - Remembering You, 11 Years Later

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 13:24:00 +0000

I still find myself smiling wistfully everytime I see a new dinosaur book on display at the bookstore. Part of me wants to grab the book, purchase it and bring it home to include it among your things that are kept in a cabinet close to my work desk at home.

Eleven years later, I don't cry as much and I can talk about you now without having to shed a tear, remembering you with smiles more than with sadness. You must be a young man now, all of 15 years old. When I see Cholo who lives across the street from Mama, it's like I see you because you were both born on the same year. I wonder if you still love dinosaurs. I'd like to believe that you do.

I guess you know (and you see clearly from where you are...) that so much has happenned to our family over the last 11 years. How we all have grown individually, hopefully for the better :) Your sister is now about to enter college but she still remembers you and misses you like crazy. She's become one hell of a photographer and I see a lot of you in her very artistic work. She's going to be a doctor someday, and I know that has been influenced greatly by her experience of you.

You see, no matter how many years have gone by, you continue to live on in each one of us. This year we came out with a book that celebrated your memory. "Heaven's Butterfly" has helped countless children, not just here, but overseas as well. Your legacy continues to expand and evolve and though we would have wanted for you to remain with us, I have now begun to see the higher purpose as to why you had to leave us after four years. God's ways are not our ways. Losing you continues to be the most painful experience I have ever gone through but the pain has somehow eased because I am able to share the memory of you in so many ways. There is Migi's Corner, the grief education classes, Griefshare, the book, the kids Good Grief workshops... your loss has not been in vain. Your life continues in every child whose life has been touched by the corners or the stories about you that we have shared. God has truly been faithful.

For the last decade or so, since you've been gone, I've had this strange fascination for the monarch butterfly who every winter flies to the coast of California (specifically in Pacific Grove) to cluster in select groves of eucalyptus and pine where they spend the rest of the winter, snug and safe with other monarchs. Dad and I finally made it there in 2006 and we marveled at the beauty and resiliency of these orange and black winged creatures. It was only a few weeks ago when I read about them and suddenly it all made sense... this fascination for monarchs that I;ve held since you left us. Diane Ackerman writes in "The Rarest of the Rare" --- "They are silent, beautiful, fragile; they are harmless and clean; they are determined; they are graceful...Like the imagination, they dart from one sunlit spot to another. To the Mexicans who call them las palomas, they are the souls of children who died during the past year, fluttering on their way to heaven."

We love you Migs and we miss you. And we will always be connected to those we love no matter the time that has passed. We keep you in our hearts, forever.

Image from "The Dinosaur Day"

Puerto Galera Tragedy Shows Crack in MARINA Policies

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Wed, 27 May 2009 10:01:00 +0000

I've just returned from the funeral of three family friends.

It's an experience I don't ever want to have to repeat in this lifetime. Every loss has a reason, and one of the things that helps loved ones move on is to be able to find meaning to the loss that has taken place. After my column in PDI came today, I got a deluge of emails regarding the sorry state of the ferry system in Puerto Galera and Batangas. How inefficient the Coast Guard is, and how many anomalies are being perpetrated in the name of profit. It made my heart sink and my stomach sick.

Here is an example of a statement sent to me by the United Seafarers of the Philippines...

Capsizing of Motor Boat Shows Crack in MARINA Policies

The recent capsizing of Motor Banca Commando – 6 in the waters off Puerto Galera in Mindoro in the afternoon of May 23, 2009 where 12 people perished including three kids and one Japanese tourist, has revealed a major crack in the policy of the Maritime Industry Authority (MARINA) on the regulation of operation of motorized bancas and similar wooden-hulled vessels.

Under Republic Act 9295, otherwise known as the Domestic Shipping Development Act of 2004, domestic ship owners and operators are required to undertake a ship modernization program where wooden vessels will no longer be allowed to operate after five years.

Inspite of this specific provision in the law, MARINA still allowed the registration and continued operation of new-built wooden vessels, particularly motorized bancas.

“They should have stopped it dead on its tracks in order to encourage local owners and operators to either build or acquire steel-hulled vessels,” points out Engr. Nelson Ramirez, president of the United Filipino Seafarers (UFS).

“As it turned out, there have been numerous maritime incidents and accidents involving motorized bancas with outriggers since the second half of last year because a good number of these types of vessel do not even have the appropriate navigational and safety equipment onboard,” he cited.

“MARINA is also not helping the law takes its due course with its recent decision to defer the phase-out of wooden-hulled vessels for another five years. Yet before that directive, MARINA Administrator Elena Bautista was announcing to the whole maritime industry that the agency will work on reviving the moribund local shipbuilding industry. How can she encourage local shipbuilders to invest on facilities and technology if she wouldn’t allow the phasing out of wooden-hulled and generally unsafe vessels vis-à-vis those steel-hulled ones?” laments Ramirez.

The UFS president also noted that Puerto Galera is a port where there are already existing operators of steel-hulled vessels. “Why did MARINA allow the continued propagation of wooden-hulled vessels in the same route? Not even content with its own laxity in the rules, MARINA extended the phase-out of these types of vessels to five years. This decision would have been okay if there are still no existing operators of steel-hulled vessels in the area but there are. So such move becomes subject to speculations and suspicion in the industry,” expresses Ramirez.

Ramirez is also bewildered how a motorized banca like MB Commando 6 can have a capacity of 130 persons based on the markings on its hull. “I just don’t know how they were able to arrive at with that figure or who evaluated the vessel strength? Did MARINA allow the owner/operator to put the capacity marking on its hull? If so, why did they allow it? The vessel was carrying 57 passengers, way below its supposed 130-person capacity, yet it capsized. So it appears to be overloaded and that it carried more passengers than it should. The questions are who and why was the owner allowed to bloat its boat capacity?” queries the UFS president.

Immediately after the capsizing of MB Commando – 6, MARINA has suspended the operation of all seven motor bancas of Ylagan Shipping Lines, which owns the ill-fated motorized vessel. The seven motorized bancas will be inspected by MARINA thoroughly while they are under suspension.

“That’s the problem with MARINA as well. They only do the inspection after a maritime disaster. Is it not better if inspections are made regularly to ensure that all passenger crafts are in compliance with existing policies on safety? There should be periodic inspections of all domestic passenger vessels and those that were found to be deficient should be given preventive suspension right away pending their compliance,” Ramirez expressed. (end of statement)

One other email I received, stated the following -- "In batangas no inspections are ever done on bancas. the coast guard personnel that will clear the boat to sail receive 20-50 peso from the owners for each passenger that is in excess of the capacity. this is the same for bancas and roro vessels in batangas. the alledged manifest is either doctored or overlooked, this is common practice in batangas. you can see this on any given day in Batangas pier, even more on weekends.

Even worse is the situation in Sabang and White Beach , Puerta Galera, NO ONE monitors how many passengers are loaded into each banca. Its only coincidental that the accident happened from Batngas as the violations are more blatant from PG where there are no Coast Guard staff at all."

In light of what has happenned, the Eugenio's have pledged to start an advocacy for safer sea travel. As Ramon, Franco's father, so poignantly put it in his eulogy today-- "The Philippines is a beautiful country and many of the memories we have associated with Franco come from travelling throughout the country. Travel as my friend Jeff put it is educational and builds memories for many families. We don't want to tell people - don't travel. What we want to say is, "Make travel safer." Whatever steps the Eugenio's will be able to make to ensure that sea travel becomes safer, if they are able to make a dent and at least stop the culture of greed that seems so prevalent in the MARINA and set into place policies that would lessen if not prevent even more accidents from taking place, then Daisy, Franco and Anton's departure would not have been in vain.

For Everyone Who Loved Franco and Anton

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Mon, 25 May 2009 04:04:00 +0000

Faith has always carried me through.

Though there are never enough words to describe the pain of losing a child, sometimes we find comfort in poetry and in messages sent from above. While thinking about the boys and their parents today in the middle of writing a blog post, I found this. For all of us who grieve with Mon, Monique, Rina and Louie and the rest of the Eugenio family, may this give us some degree of comfort...

Dearest Mommy, Daddy, family and friends,

Some things I'd like to say, but first of all to let you know that I arrived okay.

I'm writing this from Heaven, where I dwell with God above, where there are no 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.

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."

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. I will be beside you, every day of the week and year, and when you're sad, I'm standing there to wipe away the tear. When you lie in bed at night, the day's 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 months, because you're only human there's bound to be some tears. Do not be afraid to cry, it does relieve some pain. Remember, there would be no flowers, without a little rain.

I wish that I could tell you, of all that God has planned. But if I were to tell you, you would not understand. One thing is for certain, though my life on Earth is over, I am closer to you now, than I ever was before.

And to the rest of my family and my many friends, trust God knows what is best. I am not far away from you, I'm just beyond the crest. There are rocky roads ahead for you, and many hills that you must climb. Together we can do it, taking it one day at a time.

It was my philosophy, and I'd like it for you too, that is, give unto the World, so the World will give to you. If you can help someone 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, when you're 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 a gentle breeze of wind upon your face, that's me giving you a great big hug, or just a soft embrace.

When it's time for you to go from that body to be free, remember you are not going, you are coming home to me! I will always love you, from my home way up above.

Love, hugs and kisses,
Franco and Anton
P.S. God sends His Love.

Source : I Am Home With God

Three Losses, Multiple Griefs - Lessons and Questions from the Puerto Galera Ferry Tragedy

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Mon, 25 May 2009 02:55:00 +0000

Franco Eugenio,3 and Anton Eugenio Cruz, 2 slept soundly, cradled in their yayas arms as the Commando 6 ploughed its way through choppy waters under a blue sky.

It seemed like a perfect day for everyone on board the vessel. Many of the passengers were families, like the Eugenio's who were looking forward to spending time together as they ventured on their first outing as a clan.

Ramon, Franco's father, sat beside his parents - Franklin and Daisy, while Ramon's wife, Monique sat beside him and beside her were the children and their yayas. Towards the front of the boat sat Ramon's younger brother, Carl, his wife, and their two children.

From the beginning of the trip, Monique said she had felt antsy about the voyage. "I was counting the passengers as they got on board, checked for the safety of the boat. I kept looking around and asked the barker if the waters were going to be calm that day..." Monique counted 40 passengers that sat across her, in a boat that
the Coast Guard would ascertain later in an Inquirer news report, was only allowed to carry 42 passengers and 5 crew members. "There was just something unsettling about the trip..." Monique adds, " and the ferry's engine would shut off, every time big waves would hit it."

And then, after about 45 minutes, approximately 20 minutes away from their destination, the passengers heard a loud crack, and the boat keeled over and flipped.

"It was your worst nightmare..." Monique relates as she looks into the distance, "the bags and the children... everyone just started to slip and then the boat just filled up with water," she says of those frantic minutes. Franco's yaya, had tried to hold on to him for dear life as they both sank but the waters were rushing like mad. Still she managed to grab onto a portion of his shirt, until the sheer weight of the water and her need for oxygen, forced her to let go of the tiny portion of his shirt she had left clutching in her hands.

Monique on the other hand, was able to pull out Anton of the sinking boat but it seemed like it was too late for the one and half year old toddler. Meanwhile, someone else had managed to fish Franco's older brother, Paolo, 9 out of the waters and placed him on top of the boat. The unidentified man, also a passenger of the boat, kept Paolo company until his mother and father could get to him. On the other side of the boat, Ramon had been valiantly trying to save his mother, Daisy but it was to no avail.

The rescue boats came after 40 agonizing minutes. Franco's yaya told this writer that if the rescue boats had come a few minutes later they would all have been goners. "The boat had already begun to sink by the time they arrived," Monique says. Worse, as Ramon narrated in a PDI story today two boats had passed them by, he had taken off his shirt and waved frantically at them, but the boats did not bother to stop and help.

What have we come to as a people? Have be become so callous so as not to stop and help a brother in need? How could those two boats in conscience, have gone on in their journey, having seen the sinking boat and knowing that so many lives were at stake? And the gall, of those people on those two boats, to even have the temerity to take photos and videos of the sinking ferry? What has happenned to us, a supposedly caring nation, that we have become so desensitized to the the needs of others? I wonder what those people on the boat must be feeling now, knowing that they have the blood of three innocent children, and nine adults on their hands?

Many questions beg to be answered... Why have we not learned from the countless tragedies in the past of overloaded vessels and total disregard for life and safety? Who regulates the maintenance of the ferries that leave the Batangas port? What safety measures have been set in place -- even after countless sea mishaps such as these have taken place? How many more lives do we need to lose before we earn our lessons?

Last night, at the wake, a heavy pall of gloom and sadness filled the church as a grandmother and her two grandsons, lay in state, one on each of her side. Daisy, the wonderful and caring wife, mother and grandmother that she was lay in an eternal slumber. Franco and Anton, clutching their favorite toys, bright colored cars in their tiny, chubby fingers, looked like they were only sleeping, with smiles on their faces. One must find consolation and strength in knowing that the boys were not able to feel any pain as they fell into the water, that the Father had safely picked them up and brought them safely to the shores of heaven where they now live for all eternity.

We who are left behind, mourn their loss and can only pray that in the wake of their departure, a greater meaning to their loss will be found, and that measures to prevent future tragedies from happenning will finally, be set into place.

Twelve Killed in Puerto Galera Ferry Accident

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Sat, 23 May 2009 13:56:00 +0000

Three of the twelve who perished today were known to me. One of them, was a wonderful lady whose son is a very dear friend of mine who I grew up with. My friend's 3 year old son passed away too. And so did the little boy's cousin, who is an only child.

I have been re-reading the news reports for the last few hours, trying to make sense of what has just taken place. I have no answers. I cannot make sense of it. My mind keeps focusing now on 9-11 to remind me that nothing is ever under our control.

How does one grieve the simultaneous loss of a mother and child? I think of my friend now, who at last report is still in a hospital with his eldest son. I think of his lovely wife. How must she be? I think of my friend's only sister who has just lost her only child. And of their father, who has lost his wife of 45 years and two beloved grandsons. Where do you begin the griefwork?

I have no answers right now. I cannot even cry. Perhaps I am still in shock over the suddenness of it all. Once upon a time, my friend, his sister and I, we were all children, growing up on a quiet, tree-lined street... and now, with this tragedy, grief is written all over our individual histories.

Please pray for all the victims and the survivors of this terrible, terrible tragedy. This is not the first time it has happenned on Verde Island. How many boats have capsized due to overloading? Due to poor maintenance? And what have the people who watch over our seas done about it?

We never learn our lesson, that is the greatest tragedy of all.

Photo from ABC News

The Noticer by Andy Andrews - It's All About Perspective and Gratitude

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Sat, 16 May 2009 15:31:00 +0000

“Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” -- Marcel Proust

I’m an optimist by nature.

No matter how difficult a situation may be, I always try to find the ray of light that breaks through the cracks, follow it, and whistle my way through the darkness until I get to the other side. This resiliency, I’d like to believe, is part of my gene pool -- having come from a long line of women who have managed to raise families single-handedly through the war-torn years, and yet finding the ability to laugh and smile on the bleakest of days.

It also comes from choosing to be grateful. I once read somewhere that researchers have found that people who actively try to become more grateful in their everyday lives are happier --- not to mention healthier --- than those who don’t. Among the books I picked up on my last trip to San Francisco is one called “The Noticer” by Andy Andrews. Andrews is an inspirational speaker who has spoken at the request of four different U.S. presidents and at military bases worldwide. He is also a NY Times bestselling author of “The Traveler’s Gift”. His latest book, “The Noticer” addresses problems universal to humanity, this book offers solutions in bite-sized, yet effective pieces. From people who have lost their dreams, to marriages in crisis, to the problems of business and the hopes and fears of teenagers, most of us can find something to relate to. A quick and enjoyable read, the wisdom Andrews dispenses here is not really new-- they are mostly a hodge-podge of some of the best written over the last few decades, however, Andrews is a masterful storyteller and he manages to weave the lessons seamlessly into his narrative, making the reader view the lessons in a new light and appreciate them more deeply.

The book’s lead character, an elderly man named “Jones” is a Noticer -- one who sees things that other people normally do not see or take for granted. In doing so, Jones gives the gift of a new perspective to the lives of the pople whom he encounters in a small town. Similarly, each one of us, in our own lives, have had that certain person in our past impact our lives for the better, and often that relationship becomes a milestone or turning point in our journey. Jones, an old sage, says in the beginning of the book -- "Your time on this earth is a gift to be used wisely," he says. "Don't squander your words or your thoughts. Consider even the simplest action you take, for your lives matter beyond measure…and they matter forever."

Andrews says that our time on this earth is a gift to be used wisely and one of the best ways to use that gift is by noticing those who have made an impact on our lives. Together with the book, he launched The Noticer Project - www.thenoticerproject.com -- a movement that encourages us to step outside our busy schedules and avoid waiting until a wedding, graduation or even a funeral to take notice of the special, influential people in our lives. By noticing those who have made a difference for you, you not only acknowledge their contribution, but in the process, gain a new perspective on your own journey.

Half-way through the book, I stopped to think about the five most influential people in my own life, and I found myself reaching all the way back into my elementary school days and thinking about the teachers who helped shape my passion for the written word. Sadly, one of them had passed away already. The other four people though, are still very much around, and I hope to be able to “notice” their contributions in my own life and thank them for their wisdom.

Andrews says there are no clear-cut rules for how you have to "notice" those on your list, but here are a few ideas:

1. Take a friend or family member to lunch or coffee
2. Write a letter to an old friend or an old teacher or boss
3. Make a phone call to that person who impacted your life but you never got to thank
4. Make a donation to a charity in the name of someone you respect
5. Plan a weekend away with your group of friends who have made an impact on your life -- like a noticer week-end of sorts

Today’s world is fraught with so much problems, pressures, bickering, politicking and the list goes on and on. Affirmation when sincerely and freely given is much appreciated whether you are a child or an adult. A little gratitude goes a long way nowadays. The simple act of being a Noticer -- to your friends, family, colleagues or sometimes, even to someone whom you have just met, and choosing to be grateful for that person or that blessing will help make the world a little brighter. Which would you rather be today -- a dark cloud hovering, or the ray of light in someone’s life? Happy Sunday!

Terra Spa : Sanctuary In the City

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Thu, 14 May 2009 12:17:00 +0000

There are places from where I seek comfort from time to time when I want to shut out the rest of the world and just be with myself.

One of these little hideaways is a lovely spa tucked away on the fourth floor of Discovery Suites in Ortigas. Terra Spa - the name means "earth" in Latin, and true to its name, everything in this place is natural and organic. From the interiors which is predominantly wood and glass, and the use of green, white and brown throughout the spa is enough to relax you as soon as you step into Terra Spa.

A feast for the senses, the spa lives up to its philosophy by using its own range of skin care products which fuses science with the healing properties of Nature's gifts. Each product has been infused with Asian holistic wisdom through the use of the finest natural oils harnessed from a select range of leaves, flowers and fruits.

Walking through the corridoor that leads to the private rooms is an exercise in serenity. Unlike other spas where you hear the shuffle of feet or the giggling of therapists from a distance, or the chatting of clients elsewhere, at Terra, all is quiet and peaceful. You get a room all to yourself and the stillness enfolds you as you prepare for your treatment.

My personal favorite is Terra's Touch, a 90-minute treatment that is their version of the Swedish massage that incorporates pure Virgin Coconut Oil blended with the right proportion of various therapeutic grade essential oils to attain the powerful synergistic efficacy. The hour and a half treatment never fails to relax me and after a session with their highly skilled therapists, I always end up requesting for a few extra minutes of shut-eye (which they always indulge me in) and leave the spa refreshed and ready to face the world again.

I like going back to Terra because there are many different kinds of Terra's Coco-Moringa Facial which makes use of Moringa (malunggay) has powerful anti-oxidant properties that protect the skin against environmental damage; add to this pure Virgin Coconut Oil which helps prevent premature aging and wrinkling of the skin. This all-natural facial treatment helps heal minor skin complaints, and prevent visible signs of aging. Once in a while, when I feel like pampering myself, I head to Terra and spend the better part of the afternoon there. All of their products, by the way, are available for purchase. They are much more reasonable than the imported brands that sell in the department stores, and best of all they are all organic, 100%natural, proudly Philippine made, and very effective!

I love their Terra Coco-Moringa Renewal Face Serum for mature/dry skin because of its deep emolient, anti-oxidant rich properties that helps me combat the drying effects of aging. The combionation of pure VCO and Moringa does magic to my skin. I also like their Terra Aroma Bath and Body Massage Oil Sleep variant because, and this is true, the scent of Lavender and Ylang-Ylang essential oils never fails to lull me to sleep. If you have difficulty sleeping at night, this beats counting sheep.

Books and trips to the spa are my greatest indulgences. I'm glad that I need not travel far from my home when I feel the need to get away and pamper myself, even briefly. Thank God for places like Terra Spa.

For more information on Terra Spa and their wide array of services and products, visit their website at www.terra-spa.com or call 638-2977 and 683-8222 loc 3804 for reservations.

Do Children Grieve?

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Thu, 14 May 2009 08:28:00 +0000

He seems okay on the surface. He or she has high grades, continues to play, and does not exhibit any outward manifestations of sadness. Children grieve differently than adults and so we often mistakenly assume that everything is okay and they aren't grieving at all.

A child's grief is masked because it looks differently than what we are used to seeing in adults and older kids. Kids grieve in small pieces at a time. They can't take the full force of the loss all at once. Their grieving is very inefficient. They approach it, feel it, take it in, and then go off and play something totally different. They'll come back again for another dose of grieving when they're ready.

I remember very clearly to this day how it was for me when my dad died. I was 16 years old, in the summer entering my senior year of high school. He died in April and we returned to school in June. My life went on, seemingly as normal as possible. I grew up 10 years that summer -- 16 going on 26 and my brother was 10. The year ran and then one evening, nine months after my father had died, while writing and my mother began to panic because I seemed inconsolable. So she took me for a ride around our village, let me cry it all out in the car. We talked about my dad for the first time in nine months. I had never brought the subject up for fear of upsetting her. Little did I know that bottling it all inside was so very unhealthy for my 17-year old psyche.

And in the years that followed, I continued to remember him. Through graduations, and weddings, and family milestones. Twenty-eight years later I continue to remember him so well. It never really goes away. When you lose a parent between the ages of seven and seventeen, at a critival developmental stage in your life, it just becomes a part of you forever. And this is why I have started to do Good Grief -- I draw from the experience of a childhood loss but this time I apply the tools I have learned in grief therapy to help make the road for other grieving children a much better one than the one I had to navigate 28 years ago.

Just because a child is playing doesn't mean that he or she is not grieving. Play IS a child's work. Often, adults will see kids at play and think "That death must not have made much impact because they're just going right on playing." They're grieving, but in their own way. The relative quickness with which a child moves in and out of her expression of grief, often belies the intensity of her feelings.

When a child experiences the death of a family member, "there is a great deal happening under the surface," according to Dr. John Baker, a child psychologist swho specializes in bereavement issues at Harvard Medical School. "And if they have to," he continues, "they will keep it down inside, locked up." The child appears to be doing well. But appearances here can be deceptive.

In his book Children and Grief: When a Parent Dies, J. William Worden reported that the Harvard Child Bereavement Study found many children are more at risk for emotional and behavioral difficulties two years after a death than they were immediately after or at one year after the death. More children feel fearful or anxious a year after the death than right away. And, two years after the death, many bereaved children reported significantly lower self-worth than nonbereaved children.

Every child needs to have a safe place where he or she can express their grief and this is what we hope to achieve with our Good Grief workshops. My daughter says it was so important for her back in 1998 to have found someone with a similar loss because after her brother, Migi died, she felt like the odd one out. In a workshop or support group, other children are able to meet and socialize with other kids who have experienced a similar pain, making them feel less alone, helping them find the confidence in knowing that they are not alone in their experiences.

Good Grief, a play and support group to help grieving children heal through storytelling, art, games and journalling activities, will be held on MAY 22, 2009 from 9:30 to 12noon in Makati. If you know of children (ages 6-12) who would benefit from attending this group, please email me at cathybabao@gmail.com to reserve a slot. Class size will be limited.

Likable in person = Likable on Facebook

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Wed, 13 May 2009 12:13:00 +0000

BPS RESEARCH DIGEST: People judged as likable in the flesh also make good first impressions online

According to this study..participants with more expressive Facebook pages - for example having more photos available to view - tended to be judged as more likeable. Finally, participants who were expressive in the flesh also tended to be expressive on their Facebook page.

Five Lessons My Mother Taught Me

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Sat, 09 May 2009 23:01:00 +0000

We learn best by watching, listening and observing. The first role models we have in life are our parents. Daughters watch their mothers closely, and so the best life lessons are taught, more by example, rather than by lecture. Here are some of the more important ones I learned from my own mother…

1. Family comes first.

Mom had a full-time career when she met my dad and she did not stop working throughout her marriage. What she chose to do, upon my father’s request was to slow down on her career. And so in the years while my brother and I were in elementary school, she stopped making movies and concentrated on doing television instead. These were years, I believe, when she produced some of her best work in the field of comedy and drama. Mother had mastered the art of work-home balance long before the term was ever coined.

I remember how she would take us to and from school each and every day. Her presence in the home provided us with the stability that we would need later on when our father would pass away. My father was the ultimate family man and so mom just followed his lead. Both of them were very hands-on in an age where child-rearing was often just left to the mother. Perhaps it was also because my mother would certainly not have agreed to being the sole caretaker of her two children. Thus, I had no question in my mind whatsoever that when I would have a family of my own someday, they would always come first, above anything else.

2. Fight for what you believe in, but choose your battles wisely.

Mom is one of the most courageous women I know. Someone who truly speaks her mind out. She ventured to Manila to follow her heart (a boyfriend, actually) and unfortunately, ended up with a broken heart. One never to stew over her sadness, she decided to stay and pursue a career in show business instead. Thankfully, she’s been here for almost 50 years now. “Courage will get you to where you want to go but you have to choose your battles wisely,” she would often tell me, “Walang mangyayari sa ‘yo pag wala kang lakas ng loob,” she likes to say all the time. It was from mom that I learned how to be an eternal optimist, to speak up when I think a wrong has been done, to find the silver lining, but to also just keep quiet and pray it away when the battle isn’t worth fighting.

3. Cleave but don’t lose yourself.

Unknown to many, my mother lived up to tenet, “Wives, submit to your husbands…” but she did so by keeping her own individuality. My dad always had the last word at home but I could see that in many ways my mother continued to be her own person too. It’s a good thing that my father was one of the most secure persons in the world and so he did not mind the public’s attention on mom. He was very generous and fully supportive of all her dreams and she showed him her gratitude by attending to all his needs. Dad could be difficult to live with but mom had her way of easing things in the home. When he died, it was as if she had lost her anchor, but after a while, she managed to get her bearings and spent the rest of her years devoted to us and to her craft. Her resiliency, she attributes in part, to the fact that she was able to keep a life of her own, in spite of her devotion to dad and us.

4. It’s never too late to get fit. Stay natural.

A few years before my father passed away, mom started running. She was already in her early 40s when she would go off early in the morning to run. “Running was what helped keep me sane after your dad died,” she would tell me back then. My mother had the best legs on the block and could outrun any man. In her 50s she had legs that would place any 20 year old to shame. Now that I am her age when she first started running, her experience and example give me hope and a passion to be even fitter when I hit the big 5-0. Yes, it’s never too late. To this day, mom can hike the hills of our village effortlessly. Her age will forever be a national secret, but I never cease to marvel, and thank the Lord at how fit she continues to be at this stage in her life.
Mom’s has stuck to the same cleansing and moisturizing technique for the last 35 years and her face has not been touched ever by the knife. “My lines are my battle scars and so I wear them proudly. They give me character and tell many stories,” she explains. “Stick with what works and just change once in a while,” she says of the products that have helped maintain her smooth, olive skin through the years. My father would often joke that sleeping with mom was like sleeping with a box of macaroons. Coconut oil has been mom’s best friend all these years.

5. God is all you need.

Mom has been through many things in life and all throughout, she says that it has been her faith in HIM and His grace and faithfulness to her that has seen her through. “Wala ng iba, siya lang talaga,” is how mom likes to put it. Through good times and bad, He has always been her number one recourse. “Paborito tayo ni Lord…“ she liked to say, in reference to the Biblical passage on how God favors widows and orphans. Her example has shown me time and again to always put Him first in whatever it is I do. “When everyone else fails you, and that can happen, He’s the only one who never will,” she would often say to me whenever I felt that certain people or the world had let me down.

Although I’d like to think that I am more my father’s daughter in many ways, I also believe that I would not be the woman I am today if not for the love, support and care that my mom has given me. I only had dad for 16 years but in that short span of time, he taught me lessons I carry to this day. Mom raised us single-handedly after that and continues to mother us in her own unique way. However, as I grow older, I must admit that I see more and more of her in me. Hey, who wouldn’t want to have gorgeous skin and drop dead legs at 50?! I love you mom!

Happy Mothers day!

This article appeared in ROOTS&WINGS in the Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 10, 2009.

Heaven's Butterfly on The 700 Club

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Thu, 07 May 2009 12:21:00 +0000

It's more nerve-wracking to do a television appearance when your daughter is with you.

That's exactly how I felt the other day when P and I were interviewed by Coney Reyes on the set of The 700 Club. We were asked to talk about our experience in writing "Heaven's Butterfly" together and it was quite an interesting conversation that we had.

Towards the latter part of the interview, we were asked about our mother-daughter bonding activities and of course P had to be asked what her message to her mommy was on Mother's Day. And that's when the tears started to flow.

Find out what P said that made me shed a tear on Wednesday, MAY 13 at 11PM on the 700Club.

Finally, Full Circle in San Francisco_Roots & Wings in the Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 3, 2009

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Sun, 03 May 2009 01:07:00 +0000

“There are two ways to live; one is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as if everything is.” - Albert Einstein

San Francisco, California --- Sometimes you never know where the road leads.

I’ve been in the U.S. for the last two weeks, primarily, to attend a conference on death and bereavement and take grief therapy classes in Dallas, Texas and now, I have found my way to San Francisco.

While here, I did a mini-book tour of “Heaven’s Butterfly” and read to a total of more or less two hundred Fil-Am, African-American and Hispanic children in a few schools in San Francisco. The experience, both moving and healing, affirmed how pain and loss are universal and knows no color, race or creed.

I was blessed by the children’s reaction to the story, touched by their sad and innocent faces and at the same time happy to see them fully engaged. The book, re-tells the story of the first year of our lives after my 4-year old son Miguel, or Migi died in 1998, narrated from my then 7-year olf daughter’s point of view.

At the Bessie Carmichael Elementary School also called the Filipino Education Center in downtown San Francisco, the children opened up about their own losses after hearing the story. Many of them had lost grandparents, siblings, good friends, and a few parents. The children were eager to ask questions after the storytelling. They wanted to know how I felt when Migi died, asked me if I still cried, or if I thought about him to this day and what I missed most. These queries came from children whose ages ranged from 6 to 10 years old. It was an amazing morning, and also, the anniversary of a childhood loss -- the sudden death of my father from a heart attack at age 49, 28 years ago. It was very healing for me to be telling the story that day and being in the midst of those children.

I spent a better part of the afternoon of that day, talking about the mid-life journey with a friend while watching boats navigate the beautiful San Francisco bay. We talked about how difficult some of the last years had been and how a lot of pruning and discernment were done for the self, in one’s career, relationships and friendships. I shared one of the biggest realizations I’ve had when relationships end in the mid-life years -- “It’s not about whether you are good or bad. You simply become different people.” When a friendship dies, leave no room for rancor or regret, and instead be thankful for what was and move on, keeping yourself open to the possibilities of new experiences, relationships and blessings. There have been many unexpected gifts that have been given to me at this point in my life.

The next day, I again read “Heaven’s Butterfly” this time, to the children at the St. Charles Catholic school in the Mission district of San Francisco, and was once more humbled by the sharing of their own stories of loss. Children, store within them deep wells of strength and resilience, and if we give them the opportunities to draw from those wells, they are able to process and heal in a healthy manner. At the last class where I spoke, a nine year old Hispanic boy shyly raised his hand to say that he could identify with the story because he had lost an older brother three years ago to a drive-by shooting. I asked the young boy what his name was, and when he said, “Miguel”, I didn’t quite know how to react and felt a lump form in my throat. I gave him a copy of the book and was rewarded with a smile and a very gracious thank you.

Today, I went to Yosemite National Park where because of its majesty, one immediately realizes how small one is in the grand scheme of things. On the way there, we stopped in a little town called Mariposa, which, serendipitously, is Spanish, for butterfly. I went into a shop to look at some stones that I could use for some activities in grief therapy. At the end of my visit, as I was paying for my purchase, the owner, an American Indian lady with wise eyes, gave me a knowing look and pressed some green colored stones into my pal,m.“These will help you remember the road you have been on, to take from it what is good, to help you in whatever it is you want to accomplish in the future.”

Truly, this trip has made me realize that there is no death because love lives on forever. We carry in our hearts, the memories and footprints of all our loved ones who have gone ahead of us. Like the circumstances of our lives, and the way we choose to respond to them, they shape us, and help steer the course for the journey that lies ahead.

I will be conducting, Good Grief! A workshop and playgroup for children ages 7-10 who have lost loved ones through death, on Saturday, May 22 from 9:30-12noon. To reserve a slot, please call Pia at 994-7672 or email griefisajourney@gmail.com

Worried about the recession? Watch Chicken ala Carte

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Sat, 02 May 2009 03:04:00 +0000

Have you seen this? It surely puts everything in perspective in times such as these.

BIGG's is a restaurant chain in Naga and Legaspi. My son, L, who is ten, was tearing when we were watching it a while ago. He immediately looked at his bowl to see if he had left anything in it. That's how powerful the film is.

How they maintain an attitude of gratefulness and a deep spirituality is truly humbling.

Watch it and be moved...

View this movie at cultureunplugged.com

Falling In Love With San Francisco

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 23:20:00 +0000

Above the blue and windy sea
When I come home to you, San Francisco
Your golden sun will shine for me

What is there not to love about this most beautiful of cities by the bay?

A few years before my dad died, he would often wax poetic about this city which he loved very much. "If there is one place you must see before you die. it has to be San Francisco." Eerie when I think about it now.

I've been blessed to be able to return to this city several times, and yet, each visit brings with it new blessings and gifts, and I fall in love all over again.

This year, was extra special because I had the privilege of reading my children's book, "Heaven's Butterfly" to the students of Bessie Carmichael Elementary School in downtown San Francisco and at the St. Charles Catholic School in the Mission district. I know now that there is no coincidence in the fact that one of those days, was my dad's death anniversary. Everything just fell into place.

San Francisco will always be my favorite city, next to home. I look forward to seeing her once more in His time.

Lost and Found on Facebook

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 22:08:00 +0000

"When you function with an open heart, the world and everything in it, belong to you."

It took my friend J, 23 years to find her, and in a sense, find redemption for a silly, immature thing that had transpired between them in college. "We have to look for her," he told me when I stayed at his home this week-end in Dublin, California. J said that he had spotted her at the public library close to his home a couple of years ago but at that moment had forgotten her name. And so I told him that if he had seen her there, in all probability, she was just living in close proximity to where he was.

We tried to recall where M.A. went to high school. We had all gone to the Ateneo for college and were classmates in our Freshman year in 1986. I told him I recall that she went to Teresiana and he said that I was probably right. My next step was to send an FB message to three of my contacts who had gone to the same high school, and ask them about her whereabouts. The wonderful thing about Facebook is that in an instant you can get a reply to your query, provided the answers are known. True enough, In less than 24 hours, P and Y got back to me with MA’s contact numbers!

“What do you want me to do with this while I am still here?” I asked J with a smile, as we both stared at the message that contained her contact numbers. The usually bubbly J, was stumped. I could see it in his brown eyes. He told me he had lived with the guilt of making her cry and was at that point in his life when he just wanted to make amends. I asked him what the fight was all about and he said that he couldn’t even remember. He could only still recall her tears and how terrible he must have made her feel that day.

“Let’s call her…” he said.

I dialed her number and after four rings, she picked it up. MA and I had been very close friends in college and she had been to my house several times. “Hello, MA, this is Cathy B from Ateneo do you still remember me…?” I said in a cheerful voice, all the while hoping that she would indeed remember. J was at my side, waiting with bated breath. There was a pregnant pause that seemed to last forever.

“Oh my God… Oh…my… God…IS this Cathy, the fair one from White Plains?” I had to giggle at her description. “Yes, it’s me!” I told her gleefully. “Oh my God.. How did you find me?” So I told her about the process we took to get her number and then proceeded to tell her about this friend of ours from college who wanted to make amends for something he did to her in school, almost 25 years ago. At that point I passed on the phone to J, who for some reason fell on his knees and started, immediately to apologize for his misdeed.

What a joy and a blessing it is to witness a reconciliation, to be present when people find one another again, or when they find one another for the first time. J is like a brother to me, I have known him since we were in pre-school at the neighborhood kindergarten. We grew up in the same village and my heart was bursting with joy to see him so happy and relieved. J had told me that he really felt awful for many years about the brash and immature way he had dealt with MA and he just wanted to say sorry for being such a terrible person.

It was agreed that we would meet at Peet’s Coffee in the San Ramon area at 11 o’clock the following day. I could see that J was just so excited to meet up with MA and he started planning for their meeting that evening -- to the point of bringing out our college yearbook "to help jog everyone’s memory," he explained. The next day, we left Dublin and made it to Peet’s at 10:45 AM. “Sobra ka naman, excited,” I ribbed him. “Better that we’re early, the least I can do is treat her to coffee…” he grinned while we waited outside Peet’s, chilly from the cool, crisp air that morning. However, at 11:06AM, MA still had not shown up and we started to grow antsy. I started to feel bad for J, hoping that MA would show up for his sake. I asked him if that was the only Peet’s in the area, so he went to ask the barista to ask if there was another branch close by. The barista said that there was another one 1.5 mile away and so we hurriedly drove off to check if MA was there.

In the car, I told J that from my experience, when reunions such as these take place, there was always some added element of suspense to it. I knew that from experience. Either there would be a snag somewhere, so much that plans change, or the other party gets lost too. I had just reunited with the sister of my best friend and it took us close to half an hour before we finally met up at a Cheesecake Factory in Pleasanton. “Ganyan, talaga, para mas exciting…” I told him as we drove to the other Peet’s. I could also see that he was getting worried and I started to pray silently that she would be there.

Unfortunately, she still wasn’t at the second Peet’s branch and so I said that maybe we should just go back to the first one and wait there. We drove back again, arrived at the original Peet’s at 11:35 AM and decided to just have coffee. In our excitement, we had both forgotten to write down MA's numbers so I asked him to call 411 and check to see if they were listed. After a few tense minutes, we got her on the line. “Hi MA, we’re here at Peet’s…” She asked what time we arrived and I told her that we had arrived at 10:45 and waited until about 11:07 AM. “Oh no, I got there at 11:10AM and stayed until 11:30,” she told us. Goodness, we had missed each other twice by a few minutes! It was a scene straight out of a Meg Ryan-Tom Hanks movie! I asked if she could still come over and she gladly obliged.

J was so happy at the turn of events and practically leapt out of his seat the minute MA finally stepped into Peet’s. He had waited so many years for this moment. You could see and feel it in the way that they hugged. We were so happy to finally see MA at last. Later on, as we began trading stories, about what had transpired in our lives over the last 25 years, we found many similarities. The moment was a golden one, like no space nor time had lapsed.

I’ve found many people through the years, but there are a few that I continue to search for. I wait for the day to re-unite with my best friend from high school who has seemingly vanished into the thin air. II've learned that if someone wishes to be found, the universe will conspire, and God will make it happen. But if that person is not meant to be found, yet, then no matter how hard you try, it will not be. In the meantime, I revel in the joy of having a front-row seat at the reconciliations that I have been made a part of and the many wonderful people I have found in the waiting.

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 23:09:00 +0000

"The most basic and powerful way to connect to another person is to listen. Just listen. Perhaps the most important thing we ever give each other is our attention...a loving silence often has more power to heal and to connect than the most well-intentioned words." -- Rachel Naomi Remen

Sometimes words are not enough to describe the grandeur and majesty of a place.

In Yosemite, you realize and appreciate how small you are in the grand scheme of things. And yet, you remember too how HE cares for all creatures, great and small, and how every circumstance of our lives is in His control. I hope you enjoy the photos and the quotes that come with it. Yosemite was a time to renew my spirit, a place where I could look back on the road behind me with new eyes, and to plan for the road ahead filled with optimism and courage.

Thanks to my good friend Dan for making the trip possible.

"Those who have a 'why' to live, can bear with almost any 'how'." - Viktor Frankl

"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all." -- Emily Dickinson

“Those who don’t love themselves as they are rarely love life either.” -- Rachel Naomi Remen

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in, forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day, you shall begin it well and serenely... -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Easter Sundays of Our Lives

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 03:08:00 +0000

When I look back on the road that lead me to Dallas, I can't help but think of the many Good Fridays I had to live through and the Easter Sundays that God always provided me with afterwards.

I spent a quiet Easter week-end in Mt. Pleasant, Texas - a small, simple community, two and a half hours away from Dallas by car. In the company of good friends, M and P, a young couple building a life together here by themselves - away from family - I feel so close to the Lord who brought me here to this day, and this point in my life.

I've tried many things over the last decade or so, but none of them feels as right, as what I am attempting to accomplish on my stay here. I am here in Dallas to study and work on my certification to becoming a specialist in death, grief and bereavement studies and counseling. One of my closest girlfriends asked me "Why that? That's such a difficult job to do?!" I was reminded of what Sir Edmund Hillary ( the first man to conquer Mt. Everest) once said - "It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves." And we fight each and every battle through the power of God's amazing grace - there's just no other way to do it.

Grief is a reality, an experience of loss can often overcome us if we do not have the right resources or support. I've seen it in my own life - when I lost my best friend at age 10, my grandmother when I was 12, my dad,all too suddenly when I was 16, and my 4-year old son when I was 33, and a fourth child to an ectopic pregnancy three years ago. I've seen it too in the lives of countless other individuals and families. So why do I choose to go on this path? For the simple reason that it is there, it is real and because I want to help people navigate that difficult road and make them believe that there is hope and possibly, an even more productive and deeper life after a loss. The Lord has provided me with His comfort and grace and I am confident that He will enable me and equip me with what I need to continue with this work and this ministry. The fact that I am here today, when six months ago, this was but a pipe dream, is a testament to His faithfulness, provisions and goodness, all the time, and an affirmation that at this point in my life's journey, this is exactly where he wants me to be.

How this grief journey of mine has evolved is the wonderful work of His hands - from Migi's Corner, to teach. How He has encouraged me, changed and molded me over the last few years, is beyond my understanding. I've been through hell and back in the last decade, not just once but several times - through many losses - not only through death, but in work, relationships, broken friendships and many other challenges. But no matter how many times I fell and grieved, He was always there to pick me up each time and oh how He has blessed me! It is the same kind of blessing and comfort now that I wish to pass on to others who are going, or will go through major life transitions. I remain steadfast in Him and remain in His flow, because I know from experience that His grace alone is sufficient if we are open to it, and how He has made everything in my life beautiful, in His time.

"Trust in the Lord, with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways, acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths." - Proverbs 3:5-6

I left my heart...

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 06:30:00 +0000

Arrived here this evening, in this most beautiful of cities by the bay.
I shall spend the night here before flying off to Dallas in the morning which marks the beginning of my big adventure. I'm still up, at close to midnight, but I need to get my shut-eye very soon.

My father always loved to talk about how beautiful San Francisco is, and rightly so.
Everytime I am here, I am blown away by its beauty and that is why I keep returning. It's a blessing to be here, even for a night. But, I'll be back real soon. For now, I'm headed to the Lone Star state for a little rest and some serious studying. Another adventure at mid-life begins. This time, it is in pursuit of something that I seriously want to do in the second half of life. I am here today because of God's abounding grace, and buouyed by the prayers and support of many dear friends who believe in the dream and in what I do and hope to do.

Join me for the journey. Stay tuned :)

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 00:34:00 +0000

Panglao, Bohol -- It took seven newly-minted high school graduates to help me find my muse. They say that the best way to discover a person’s true character is to take a trip with him or her. I say, that one of the best ways to navigate the tail-end of a midlife journey is to travel with a group of young 17 and 18 year old women to remind you of who you are truly meant to be.

I came here two years ago, all angsty then and in the throes of a full-blown mid-life crisis. I look back and smile on the journey that was.

Today, I’m here to chaperone seven young women, my daughter included, as they celebrate the end of their high school years with a trip to the sea and this lovely province of gentle, laid-back cultured people. This was exactly the kind of trip I would have wanted to take myself when I left high school except that times were different. My mother, then newly-widowed, would not hear anything of it.

Women have come a long way and younger women, more so, have become so much more empowered and independent. The irony of parenthood – you make sure to care for your children while they are young and vulnerable, but at a certain point, your duty as parent includes giving your children the wings to soar and fly while you watch them from the ground.

And this is how it’s been here over the last three days. I’ve been fully present but I don’t hover. I keep reminding myself that they are 17 and not 7. I text their mothers daily updates on our activities because being a mother myself, I would appreciate something like that. But generally, I keep to myself. Silently, I watch, checking in on them every now and then, making a mental headcount as they go off in groups of three or four, listening to their stories of heartache and joy without judging, and smiling to myself, remembering how it was when I was their age.

Girls today are made of tougher stuff. They excel in many fields that were once dominated by males only. As I watch these group of young women, I am glad to discover that they remain tender and soft in the places that matter. I watch in awe at their sisterhood, how they genuinely care and look after each other’s welfare and my heart is warmed. How freely they show sisterly affection towards one another, how generous they are with their praise of each other’s strength and yet gentle when there is a need to rebuke another. How engaged they are in the moment and how intelligent and deep their exchanges can be.

It has been said that midlife is like a second adolescence (hormones and all) and that’s exactly how it was for me over the last five years. In that sense, my life ran parallel to that of my daughter’s as I journeyed through my own crisis of sorts.

Yes, it has become more difficult to be a teen-ager, but also, there is a deeper well that they are able to draw from within. There is now a stronger knowledge and appreciation of the self, and a sisterhood or brotherhood that they can run to. As parents, it is important for us to show affirmation even when they are all-grown, and to know our children’s friends and know what they value and hold dear, during this stage in their life. I am thankful that my daughter has been blessed with a wide circle of support – a sisterhood that shares similar values, one that she can draw strength from when her parents aren’t around.

In that sense, her world today is much better than mine when I was her age, and I am grateful and at peace in knowing and experiencing that first-hand these last several days. To be honest, I was anxious about going on this trip – the burden of looking after seven 17 and 18 year old girls weighed on my shoulders. Then I watched and observed and learned to relax, to let go and enjoy the journey. As Sarah Ban Breathnach wrote – “If we are open and grateful for gentle lessons, new teachers will appear in our path. Serendipity can, after all, instruct us as much as sorrow.” And so as my daughter begins her adult life, I now begin the second half of mine.

Graduation Season

cathybabao@gmail.com (cathy_bythesea) — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 13:31:00 +0000

The movie in my mind began to play again the other day as my daughter graduated high school. After 14 years we finally bid good-bye to familiar roads and corridoors, and faces. Notice that I said we. Because after more than a decade of shuttling her to and from school in her yellow, checkered uniform, it felt like I had graduated too.

Watching her walk up the stage to receive her diploma I thought about how my mother felt 27 years ago. Perhaps back then, she had felt the same way I did. Mom had driven me faithfully in my green and white uniform, to and from the sprawling green campus on Katipunan and on rainy days, she would waded through flood to pick up up, totally oblivious of her celebrity status. In school in the 70s and 80s. I was always known as the girl who wore Pocahontas pigtails, and the one whose artista mom drove her to and from school each day. My high school diploma was as much my mothers as it was mine.

Fast forward almost three decades later, in that spanking new gym-auditorium somewhere in Ortigas last week, all of us sat in full force – father, mother, younger brother, grandmothers on both sides of the family and one trusted yaya. How different it was for me when back in 1983 when I had only my mother and brother to cheer me on. The summer before graduation I had lost my father to a heart attack and on graduation day in 1982, I missed him terribly. For my daughter on her graduation day, there was mostly joy though I’m pretty sure that the day did not pass without her remembering her own loss too, many many years ago.

Graduation season always makes us both wistful and hopeful. Time flew by too fast I kept telling my close friends. I am grateful that for most of those 14 years, I was pretty much hands-on in raising my daughter. Looking back now, I would do it all over. Being there constantly and watching her evolve through the years from a shy child in Kindergarten , to an awkward grade school student, to finally coming ito her own in high school is a huge privilege that I am very grateful for. Our children are truly our greatest blessings.

Commencement exercises also marks the beginning of a new chapter in her life as she moves into familiar grounds in June and I must slowly learn to let go. The circle of life goes on as our daughter finds herself on the very same campus that her father and I once found ourselves in. But unlike me, 27 years ago, she enters college definite about the path she wishes to take. I always like to say that children nowadays are luckier in the sense that a greater majority of them are given much leeway by their parents to choose their own path and to harness that gift or talent which sets them apart from the rest. After all, in time, they live their own lives, and not that of their parents.

This morning my daughter and I walked through her new campus as she began making preparations for new life come June. I eagerly walked her through the many corridoors that were once so familiar to me. Though much has changed, a lot of things remain the same. I thought it was uncanny that she opted to wear a yellow Ninoy Aquino shirt with the classic Ninoy image and “Ninoy lives in my heart” written on it. The very same shirt was in vogue when I was a Freshman in college on the year that Ninoy was assasinated.

And so the memories of the years spent on campus – both happy and sad, came flooding back. Passing by the bookshop I could not help but purchase a blue and white shirt that resonated with me that morning. The shirt, emblazoned with a quote from the school’s most famous alumni (Dr. Jose Rizal) on his thoughts about our school called out to me – “I spent many happy years there.” Though high school was fun, I found the college years to be even better. I pray that it will be the same for my daughter and for the many other graduates who leave their comfort zones this month. The world lies waiting for you…sieze it with faith, kindness, diligence and compassion. Congratulations!