Tag: Undifferentiated Connective Tissue Disease

All Roads Lead Home

On By Ramon B.In Mariel's Life5 Comments

“All Roads Lead Home” was a tune written and performed by musician and dear friend Noli Aurillo in his latest “Noli” album/CD. He had asked me to listen it when we met again last year, after having lost touch of each other for like “centuries”. Noli had found out about what had happened to Mariel and consoled me with this song. Perhaps to tell me that Mariel is in a far better place now, or that someday I will have her again in my arms when we meet in our heavenly home. I’m just guessing though because we never really got to talk about it. But then it’s been said that “what is given with the heart should be taken with the heart”, so I will just let the beautiful music speak for itself.

(I’d like to share this inspiring tune with you all tonight, and most especially to my dear blogger friends Robert , Linda and Jan who have always had a special place for music in their own journeys.)

To Noli, thanks again, bro

To my love Mariel, this one’s for you Mommy. I love you so very much.

Through the Looking Glass

On By Ramon B.In Mariel's Life, Undifferentiated Connective Tissue Disease8 Comments

This week brought me back to where my journey had began. I tried so hard to avoid going to UST hospital this past year but I just couldn’t get out of this one simply because Sam needed to be admitted to the same hospital after having taken some “bad food” at a party and her pediatrician happens to come from the very place too. And much more, the only available room was on the same floor where Mariel and I had stayed a year ago. It was like diving to the trenches anew. Tough luck or providence? You be the judge.

For a time I was of course more preoccupied with Sam who was going through the lab tests and was running a high fever. But still the images and emotions of the recent past had kept hounding me, taunting me to confront my fears and regrets. It wasn’t long before I had finally found the guts to again walk the long, lonely corridor. To relive the days when time had stood still. To return to the valley of tears.

I must admit however that it was not as bad as I had imagined. In fact, I felt a certain kind of peace with my sadness, as I stood outside the door where Mariel and I had shared seven fateful days not so long ago, believing love will be enough to get us through. At that point, some nurses at the station recognized me and remembered Mariel. (I guess very few people really forget her once they somehow get to know her.) They said they remembered most the whiteness and porcelain-like texture of her skin. I’m not surprised though, because I had always known that Mariel had radiated such simplicity and childlike purity. That’s what most people usually grasp, that was the very feeling I had when I met her for the first time at the Gourmet Cafe. She was glowing and almost translucent. It was like old times again for some fleeting moments. And I neither felt afraid nor burdened because I was sure, Mariel was there holding my hand.

Good night Mommy. ‘ Love you.

Letter to Mariel, August 28, 2008

On By Ramon B.In On Grieving6 Comments

Dear Mommy,

These past few days have been particularly tough. I’ve been really missing you a lot. I don’t know if its the anticipation of your coming “anniversary” next month that has been weighing down on me or just the relatively bleak weather this week. But I’ve really been thinking about you so much (and crying more than usual). Mostly it’s about feeling sorry about how the world has been robbed of your beauty and kindness by that cruel sickness. And also about being caught unawares by it all.  Yes I know I’ve been through this internal conversation many, many times these past months. But still, I cannot get over the fact that I’m here, and you’re… there. It was never like anything I had planned or imagined for us. I’m sure you’ll ask me to PRAY more right now. I think I really need to do that. And that’s why I guess you’re the real angel and I’m not. (Ok, let’s just say, I’m still a “work in progress”). I’ll maybe just need to hold on to all the wonderful memories we had shared.

By the way, I tucked Sam in bed the other night and I just can’t help but realize how much she has started to look like you. I mean many people say she is little Bong (or “Bang” as Lola Mommy would often call her). But to me, she is absolutely little Mariel. (and fortunately too, she has your nice skin). And she is really growing up so fast. Her “Ninang” Alma tells me she had to get her new size 8 shoes. I know the big feet came from me and her big “brain” from you. But I’ve now come to realize even more from where she got the big “heart” from. Because she never has anything nasty to say about anyone, much like you.

Lately, Sam has been into the music of young performers like the Jonas Brothers and Demi Lovato. (Yes I had to catch up on these stuff and watch with her those music videos on youtube so we can have something to talk about. I’d do anything for her, remember?). She has been doing well in school and I’ve been working too on making her more “independent”. Being able to think for herself and make decisions guided by the values you’ve brought her up with. I know I wont always be around so I’ll just have to equip her for life. She will always be our baby, our “Sammy”.

I promise not to revisit right now our travails at the hospital around this time last year. The memories are still way too painful to recollect. It still breaks my heart every time. Although I will someday try to visit those who had helped comfort us then at UST, like Dr. Lanee, and the others. If only to say thank you for their care and kindness. They did their best but God had other plans. I know He knows what was best for you most especially. I’m sure He loved you very much. So that while I still cannot fully comprehend what had happened, I will just try to humbly accept things. And pray that He will also grant me the chance to be with you again one day. I look forward to that time as the night longs for the first light of dawn. For only you can make me whole again .

I know you hear me now, Mommy. And though I was never good at telling you about these things then. I just like to tell you again that I love you so very, very much, just in case you still don’t know. I cannot find anyone else like you ever to complete me. So I guess you’re kind of stuck with me whether you like or not.

Please wait for me. I love you.

Eternally,

Bong