So, some people might be wondering why I’m still at it, updating this blog after all these years. Well, sixteen years may seem like an eternity to most, right? Others have moved on, life’s thrown all sorts of things their way, and there’s a whole bunch of other stuff to worry about. But here’s the truth: I keep tapping away at this blog because there’s just no way I could ever say enough about the incredible life you had lived, especially your love for our daughter, Samantha.

I would also like to ask people to see the blog as our treasure chest of memories. It’s like that box of old photos people keep under their beds, only it’s out in the open for all to see. Writing about your life and your love for Samantha is my way of preserving those timeless memories. It’s like keeping a flickering candle lit in the darkest of nights.

Your love for your daughter was heroic. It shaped her into the amazing person she is today. So, when I keep writing about your love for her, it’s like passing down our love story for the ages. I want everyone, especially Samantha, to know that love never fades, even when the pages of the calendar have long been turned.

Life has also thrown some curveballs, and one of the biggest is dealing with the grief from your passing. Writing about your life has helped me cope with the loss, process my feelings, remember all the lessons your gracious life has taught us, and ultimately leave Samantha an enduring chronicle of your love.

Your life was a lesson in kindness, wisdom, and inspiration. By sharing your story, I had hoped to show how your selflessness can inform others to live their lives just a little bit better. And who wouldn’t want to learn from someone as awesome as you?

I still remember that time when we had to rush Sam to Cardinal Santos Medical Center because she got very sick, and you had somehow managed to stay cool for her sake, while I had simply panicked all over the place. You were always our bulwark.

And in an ever-hectic world, staying in touch can be tough. People move on, relationships change, and everything whirls by in a blur. But this blog is like a hotline to the past. It lets me speak with you, even though you’re not physically here anymore. It’s like my bridge to those days gone by, making sure Sam and the next generations will know just what an amazing person you were.

Sixteen years might have passed by, but the love, memories, and inspiration you left behind are still as real as ever. My ramblings about your incredible life and your love for me and your daughter are like love letters that never end. It shows how the people we love never truly leave us.

We love you, Mommy. You are too beautiful to ever be forgotten.

I know that to most people, the memories of the past fifteen years since you left us now seem so distant. A lot of things have happened since. Life has moved on for most. There is even a whole new world out there that appears so alien to me now. However, I will always remember that fateful morning on a Thursday when you had left for our Lord’s garden. There were no time for goodbyes. Only a gaping hole that’s been so hard to fill. You had however gifted me with our daughter Sam who now takes care of me. She is quite a taskmaster, for she is made of much sterner stuff than I could ever be. Today, I can only wish for her a much better future than we had both ever imagined. Could you have ever envisaged Atty. Sam? And I know that she’ll be okay because you will be always somewhere there inside her. In many ways, she really takes after you. So results- oriented and driven to excel.

All I can think of today however, is one of gratitude. To thank you for all the love you had shared. For you have shown us what selfless love can truly be. They call it “agape” or love that is not sentimental and that which simply comes from being who you are. Thank you for your love, Mariel. We will always remember your great life especially on this day. You shall always be missed. We also ask for your prayers while we still journey through life. Please guide our Sammie always because she still needs you when facing up to life’s many travails.

We love you Mommy. You will always be in our hearts. Happy birthday in heaven. XOXO

Dearest Mommy,

Your “Tatacoco” is now in law school. (that’s how we had endearingly called our daughter Sam when she was very young) 

I thank the Lord God for the opportunity to see her get to this point in her life as I had promised you I would. Of course, I will no longer be able to help her with school work like you did when she was growing up because what she is learning today is already so beyond my pay grade :). But I can’t help wondering sometimes if she would have made a good pediatrician like we had wishfully dreamed about when she was still a toddler. But that doesn’t really matter now. What is truly more important is that she has already decided her life’s path. I know you would have approved whatever she decides to do or follow with her heart. She is after all your precious little “tata”, remember?

Our self- imposed isolation to be safe from Covid-19 is really tough. Sam and I have both been unable to go out since March last year, except for recent events when I had to be rushed to the hospital. I can only remember fleeting images of the world outside on the way to the Philippine Heart Center. But again, we miss your being here with us because you had always provided us with the courage and grace to get through similar tough moments in the past. Remember too how I had often left Sam with you and the doctor whenever some procedure was required with needles and all? I must admit to the world that I am both a wimp and a flake when it comes to dealing with those things. (Although I seem to have become a little better at it because I have no choice than to take your place)

But I digress a bit because today is really about you. It’s about again wishfully reimagining a world with you and at the same time facing up to the reality that you have now only become our guardian angel.

Has it really already been fourteen (14) years now since you went ahead to our Lord’s garden? It still feels like a mere blip in time, because we still miss you so terribly. I guess we will never tire of singing praises about what a loving and faithful person you were, because you truly are. Time will not erase how you have cared for us so selflessly. We will forever be grateful for the privilege of having shared your life. As we will forever miss you for your steadfast and loving presence. 

What more is there to say without sounding like a broken record (of course younger people today cannot picture what that means) But still it will not deter us from singing praises about what a truly wonderful person you were. You came into our lives like a bolt of lightning and just as quickly had been taken away. I’ve often wondered why? For what reason? And have only recently come to terms with the fact that maybe we will only truly know the answer to that when we finally again meet someday. Until that time, I will just have to say that we miss you so much. I look at our old photographs today and can’t help but realize how you will never really age, unlike me. You will always remain radiantly beautiful as the day I first met you at the Gourmet cafe. Have I not kidded you so often about looking Imeldific on that day, being so perfectly coiffed against the scruffy person that I was? Well time has not been too kind on me as I have practically lost most of my hair these days haha.

We remember how you had left us today to be in our Lord’s garden. If I have been too selfish before to share you with the world, it doesn’t really matter much now because I am sure you have already built an even more beautiful and abundant garden where you are today. 

I love you very, very much, Mommy. Please continue to pray for us, especially for Sam who still misses you every single day. While it pains me to accept the reality of our distance, I can now only trust our Lord and choose to share your “beauty” with the rest of the world. We miss you so much my Ninicoco! (my other name for you)

With all my love,

Bong

“There’s a time that I remember, when I did not know no pain
When I believed in forever, and everything would stay the same
Now my heart feel like December when somebody say your name…”

Dear Mommy,

Those were words from a Maroon 5 tune meant for a much younger audience. But they do resonate with me, even at my age when I face the truth of mortality, and with Covid ravaging the world. I actually talked about this with our daughter, but her young mind it seems is not still capable of feeling the loneliness of what December or Winter can bring.

Then too in some weird way, I find myself grateful that you will never really know what it is to be old, and gray (and debilitated with arthritis, like me). For you will always be young, vibrant, elegant, and beautiful in our memories. You will always be that angelic Mariel that literally gleamed magically that afternoon when I first met you at Gourmet Cafe. You will know no pain and that you will always be remembered for your kindness, deep devotion to our Samantha, and recognized as someone who loved without asking for anything in return. I would have also dreaded the thought that you were with us today while this Corona lurked in the shadows, because people with autoimmune issues are very highly vulnerable to this wretched virus. (I would have built a moat around our house or tried to protect you by keeping people away from our fortress. I always had this quixotic idea of being your knight on a white horse. Did we not always talk a lot about visiting castles?)

It’s 13 years today since you had to leave for the Lord’s garden. I regretted that I was never able to properly say goodbye. I had kissed your feet the night before and later left to be with Sam, because I was afraid of giving you germs that might endanger your condition. I really wanted to say I love you one more time, and thank you for accepting me as your knight, no matter how rusty my armor might had looked like. In fact, I will probably ask you again the next time we meet, why you did?

Today that same armor is not only rusty, it may even be broken already in many places. All that remains untouched however are the wonderful memories we had shared, believing in forever, and keeping faith that everything will stay exactly the same.

I visit this blog often just to recall what it was like to sit beside you as you read your favorite book in our bedroom. Or, remembering the many days we dreamed of traveling the world, and imagining too what it would be like to see Sammie off to college. Some of those milestones have passed, while many more are still to be made. I am sure though that you will be there too with us, for both our loss and and our triumphs. December will come, but with you I hope it will be neither cold nor lonely.

We will love you always Mommy. You will never be forgotten. We will always hear “love” every time somebody says your name. Good night Mariel, my sweet princess.

With all my love,

Bong

Dearest Mommy,

I will never forget waiting for Sam on the top of the stairs at U.P. “Bahay ng Alumni” on her first day at the university last August. It was a very rainy afternoon and I had for the very first time dared to let go and give her the chance to find her place in the wider world.

There were many anxious moments, especially when for quite a while, I couldn’t reach her phone. I already had wild ideas of bandits lurking in dark corners. Imaginings brought perhaps by my loneliness and the stark reality I had no one else but her to remind me of the love we had once shared. We had hoped too that someday she becomes all the best things we can only dream of for ourselves.

So I could not help but shed a tear, as I saw her walking a long way to get to the steps at the Alumni Center. I knew she was very tired and confused with a brave new world facing her. And I had wanted so much to come to her rescue as I often do when she stumbled when she was very young. But I also knew that I had to “let her step to the music that she hears” and dance to the beat of her own drum. I knew you had looked forward to this day with Sam in U.P. But I also somehow knew that you were never really far away, for your love was with us at that moment.

It’s been 9 years since that unimaginable day in September. I had grown much older and hopefully a little wiser. But as I had promised you then, as I promise you now, that I will make sure that your dreams will live on through our daughter. She is in many respects, all the best that you were. I still watch her sleeping and see you there. You have never really gone.

Thank you again for the love you had shared with us. You will never be forgotten because you are too beautiful a person to ever forget. We love you so very much and we will love you forever. Please watch over us, as we find ways to always be worthy of your love.

We love you so much Mommy.

With all my love,

Bong

Bong’s Note: It’s 8 years since. Feels like only 8 weeks, or even 8 seconds sometimes. It will never be the same again but I’d like to believe that some light can be drawn from all the darkness. Thus, I share this short piece from Sam which she had written for the required ‘personal statement’ in her College application. Yes, she’ll be going to college next year, but she will always be our baby. We love you Mommy forever, more than any blog can imagine.

How Darkness Can Bring Light
(An Essay by Samantha Bianca F. Bello, August 2015)

“In the early morning of September 20, 2007, I received the most devastating news of my life – one that probably changed me permanently, and defined what I am today.

My dad woke me up to tell me that my mom had just died. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. Ten days earlier, she was just fine – the healthy, loving, and doting person she always was. She had been stricken by a rare and cruel sickness called Interstitial Lung Disease. This was a kind of autoimmune disorder that was impossible to predict and didn’t seem to have any cure. I didn’t know this at the time. All I knew is that she had some kind of flu, and that we’d be going home soon. However, I was horribly wrong.

Just like that, the light of our home had been extinguished. It wasn’t easy dealing with this. In fact, the days that followed all seemed to be a blur. There was a kind of void created in our lives that can never be replaced ever again.

The first thing I learned from it all was the value of the acceptance of God’s perfect plan. We may not know why things happen the way they happen, but we have to trust in Him anyway. No matter how bad things get, He cares for us through people and circumstances that come into our lives.

I also learned humility. In the days that followed, I was cared for by my grandmother and my aunt while my dad was grieving. I learned to receive help from other people with gratitude. Through this, I learned we cannot do everything ourselves, and we must realize our human limitations. No matter how self-sufficient you think you are, there will always come a time that you will have to rely on your neighbor to get you through.

I’ve always thought that my mom would be around forever. I thought that she would be there to provide for my every need. However, things had to change. I had to understand that I had to do certain things on my own. I was proud of myself for receiving academic honors, but I was so sure this would come to an end because my mom was no longer there with me by my side. Somehow, I was able to keep my class standing through hard work, persistence and the belief that my mom would be proud of what I’ve done on my own. I actually did it for her.

Then, there is courage – the strength to carry on even when we are unsure that success is guaranteed. I have learned that nothing comes to you easily. There will be challenges, but these challenges can be overcome through a strong faith in God and hope that there is something better for us if only we push ahead. There was a time when I was frightened to go back to school, and I constantly wanted to go home and avoid activities that normally reminded me of my former life. However, I was able to conquer this by focusing on each day as it came, and it’s been 8 years since that fateful day.

I learned to value family, friends, and the time we spend with them. Some things are temporary, so I find time to hug my dad every day and thank him for the love and care he’s shown me every step of the way. I also learned to say thank you to my cousin, Trisha, who has learned to be more understanding of my teenage ups-and-downs. I cherish my friends, and the time we spend together watching movies, laughing at almost nothing, and telling stories about each other. I love them all.

I am an only child. I had never been good at sharing – until one day, I realized how much I had received in my relatively young, but eventful life. I consider myself lucky for having so many blessings that when the time came to organize something for the victims of Typhoon Yolanda, I felt free to give away some of the precious little things I’ve collected over the years. I know this is a small step, but I promise myself to give more and more whenever I can.

I have so much more to realize in life, but if there is one thing I really believe from all I’ve gone through, it’s living life for a purpose. I used to think I was so unlucky, but then I now see that all the unfortunate circumstances I’ve been through were meant to prepare me for something bigger than myself.

I am not completely sure about why God had decided to take my mom away at my young age, but I’m pretty sure that all the challenges that came after that gave me the strength to pursue my dreams and to discover my real purpose in life – which is to make God and my mom proud.”

It’s been another year Mommy. Three hundred sixty five days, or rather three hundred sixty five nights of missing you still.

 Sam and I pray each night and  wish you good night like always. We simply wish you all the love our human brains can manage to imagine and send them across the heavens and the universe. We pray too that these would reach you somehow, because we hold on to God’s promise of one day sharing our heavenly home with you. So now I wonder how fast can our love really travel to you.

On the other hand, time travels fast, as it loves to do. Sammie is grown now, and is no longer the little girl we once had so many dreams planned for. She has started now to make dreams of her own, as I only wish that I’d still be there somewhere too. She is independently-minded and sometimes a little headstong, but who really was not at her age. In many ways, she is a lot like you, iron-willed yet willing to follow, pragmatic yet overflowing with compassion. So that’s why I miss you even more today.

I also look at our old photographs together and see how much older I’ve become. The seasons  it seems have not been very kind to me. I only wish I can photoshop a few wrinkles in you too, if only for a few moments of make-believe, imagine that you are still there with me. But I shall always remember you in your perfection, forever young and beautiful as the day I first met you at the Gourmet Cafe.

With regard to the moving on thing. You know I try to keep pushing forward, although sometimes it feels like Sisyphus up the mountain. I will try to be brave and hopeful if only because of Sam. Please do hold my hand  through these and replace my fears with  your comforting embrace.

I have many times asked to hear your voice even for just one more time; I haven’t had much success with that. But I have lately also realized that maybe you actually continue to speak to me. Through the stories about us that I hear from your friends, through your old birthday cards, through your poems and letters, through your funny but insightful jokes, through your purple- colored knick-knacks, and of course, through your life of grace, beauty and love.

Sam and I love you Mommy, now and through eternity. Please always remember that.

So then how fast does love travel? Surely faster than a hearbeat, faster than the waves of your beautiful memories, even faster than and as often as I can whisper your name each night.

(I always come back to this video just to remember and get a good cry)