Spirit, Strength and Peace

Dear God,

I haven’t asked much for myself over the past so many years. In fact … if I had to pinpoint a moment in time that I stopped requesting anything from You, it would be the same day I was so angry at You for not giving me the one thing in life that I prayed the hardest for. The one thing in my life that I wanted to experience the most.

I stopped asking at that point, not because I didn’t believe in You. Or that I didn’t think You loved me. I stopped asking because, quite honestly, I just wanted to stop feeling disappointed in myself all the time.

You see, I have always been told that You only give a person what You think he or she could handle. And seeing that I hadn’t been handling the whole infertility thing so well, I thought that perhaps that was the reason You felt I wasn’t ready or prepared or worthy of being a mother.

And that is why I stopped praying for myself.

God, I know that you know that I still pray to You. And that my requests are simple at best. I pray that You look over all my family and friends. I pray that You guide those most worthy of needing guidance to find spiritual happiness somewhere.

Because, even though I am not a very good practicing Catholic, I do believe that having faith in a higher being … whether You are called “God” or “Yahweh” or if You are even a multitude of deities … it is important in finding some sort of spiritual inner peace.

Right now, God … I’m looking for some of that inner peace. And specifically what I need at this moment is some strength.

I know You have provided me with many gifts, including the love and support of an incredible man. I also know You have graciously provided me with my “second chance” in life in a new city and a new home. I cannot tell you how incredibly grateful I am for the love and support of my husband and this opportunity to move to Chicago … because it’s amazing what a change in scenery can do to one’s soul.

The strength I need right now is to maintain my self-confidence. To know that I’m doing the best that I can do in the situation I am currently in. To ignore the thoughts in my head that tell me I’m “just not good enough.” To ignore my tendency to worry what others may think about what I’m doing. To be strong in the face of self-doubt.

Please God. I don’t ask for much. But if it wasn’t too much of a bother, I’m in much need of some inner strength …

Forty-plus Days

In the Catholic-Filipino tradition, a 9-day novena is held immediately after the death of a loved one. On the 40th day, a mass is held in commemoration of this loved one as it is believed that this is the day they’ve ascended into the heavens. It’s also the day where the act of “mourning” (wearing black, for example) officially concludes. It’s supposed to be the time where a person is supposed to outwardly “show” that they’ve began to “move on” with everyday life.

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Yet another "borrowed" picture from another cousin

Except … anyone that has ever mourned the loss a love one (or heck, even the loss of anything in life — like the ability to have children, for instance) knows that grief doesn’t last for a set moment in time. Life doesn’t just miraculously get better after 40 days, several months or even years. If anything, grief is a process that must be worked through completely before a person can successfully move on.

Sometime last week was the 40th day anniversary of my Grandma Rose‘s passing. In all honestly, the date escaped me. It wasn’t until I saw pictures of a celebration at my Uncle’s house on my cousin‘s Facebook page that I remembered. And if the rest of my Mom’s family in the U.S. didn’t live on the East Coast, I might have been there celebrating with them. Instead, I celebrated with them in spirit; once again reflecting back on the incredible life my 99-year old Grandmother.

This past Monday, on Memorial Day of all days, I happened to get the first part of an incredible gift in my email inbox. This same cousin, who posted pictures of the 40th day celebration, sent me … along with the rest of my cousins and Aunts/Uncles in her email address book … a scanned copy of a notebook written by Grandma Rose.

290About 32 pages in length and written about twenty years ago, this handwritten notebook told the most basic lifestory of my grandmother in her own words. She had left it to my cousin, who took it upon herself to scan in each page and send it to all of us.

It was absolutely wonderful to read these pages and physically see it my Grandma’s own handwriting. Many of the accounts she documented were stories that I can remember her telling me. Other stories were ones that were passed down to me from my own Mom. But reading them now … well, they brought back such warm memories of listening to my Grandma Rose tell these stories and being fascinated on how life in the Philippines was so different than my own.

For years, we had told Grandma that she should write all these stories down … that she had lived such an interesting life. While many of these stories never made it into writing, I still feel incredibly blessed that Grandma left her own legacy behind and in her own words.

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Last night, after I finished reading these pages I, once again, felt this incredible closeness with my Grandma Rose. It felt as if she was right there next to me, telling me these stories like she did when I was little. It felt as if I could put my arms around her and hug her, while she read aloud to me what she wrote.

And just like that, the tears sprung up again. Because then I realized how much I missed her and still miss her. Even after these 40-plus days.

***

And because the number 40 always reminds me of this song … I have to pay homage to one of my favorite bands of all time. I have this vivid memory of being home sick one day in high school and watching “Live at Red Rocks: Under a Blood Red Sky” … so it’s this clip I had to post.

For those that don’t know, this song is based on the Bible’s Psalm 40. Which … given how spiritual my Grandma Rose was … is incredibly appropriate. Enjoy.

Clean Feat

Today is considered a “Holy Day” in the Catholic faith. It’s the Thursday before Easter; the day before Good Friday. For those that are not familiar with it’s significance, Holy Thursday is more or less the day that Catholics celebrate “The Last Supper.” It’s the day in which Jesus breaks bread with the 12 Apostles for the very last time. It’s the day in which Jesus prays to God in the Garden of Gesthemane to provide him with the strength he will very much need the next day. It is also the day where one of his own Apostles, Judas, betrays him.

Yes, I know I’ve said it time and time again … I am NOT a very “good” Catholic. I believe in God and Jesus. I believe that the death of Jesus was the ultimate sacrifice for mankind. I am just not much of a “practicer” in the Catholic faith. No, I don’t go to mass weekly. No, I don’t participate in the sacraments religiously (no pun intended). But what I get out of my belief in God and Jesus (and yes, the Holy Spirit, too) is the sense of spirituality. The sense that there are certain things that are well beyond my control. That there is a higher being watching over me.

Wow … I think that’s the most I’ve really “talked” about religion in a very long time. But seriously, there is a point to this all.

The other thing that is both the backbone and the bane of Catholicism’s existence is its traditions. The “bane” of it being that it takes waaaaaaay too long for change to come to Catholicism … which tends to drive those that are otherwise “believers” away once a situation (like, let’s say IVF for infertility) butts up against an individual’s personal beliefs. I’ve had many many many friends from my Catholic-school childhood fall victim to this. Me included.

But it’s those traditions that sometimes keep a person tied to their faith as well. Personally, there are certain things … like Advent and Lent that I enjoy about my religion. These “seasons” are richly filled with tradition and purpose; but they are also filled with symbolism as well. Advent … a time to prepare for the birth of Jesus which could also symbolize the birth of a “new year” or “new life.” And Lent … a time of self-reflection, of forgiveness of one’s self and others; a time to “give up” something of importance in order to understand what it is like to sacrifice something for others. Yes … it’s those symbolisms in Catholicism that I truly enjoy.

One such tradition that occurs today, on Holy Thursday, is the washing of feet. Yes … you read it right; the washing of feet. During Holy Thursday mass, the priest will literally wash the feet of 12 people in the congregation.

What, may you ask, is the symbolism behind this act? Well first of all, this is literally an act that Jesus performed on all of his Apostles shortly after the Last Supper. It seemed like a strange thing to do because really, why would the “Son of God” perform such a menial task on those that were brought together to serve him?

Now I can’t be certain without doing a major google search, but I have always taken this part of the service to mean two things. First of all, it’s a symbolism of purifying one’s soul/sole in order for this person to fully comprehend the assignment of which he/she has been given in life. A way of cleansing any self doubt. And second of all, I believe that this tradition is a practice in humility. If the “Son of God” should perform such a menial task to others … then we, as Catholics, should be able to participate in our share of menial tasks in order to understand humility.

Yes yes …. I’m finally getting to the point of this rambling. So here goes.

The reason I’m bringing this all up today is not just because today is literally “Holy Thursday.” The reason I’m giving you such a lesson is because today I received my lessons in purity and humility.

That’s because today … I finally got to talk directly to my Mom in the Philippines. And I’ve finally heard the news about how my Grandma is doing … straight from the horse’s mouth. And that has got me feeling just a little less anxious because now I know for myself that my Grandma is actually doing okay.

And when I mean okay; I do mean that Grandma has been breathing on her own since last Friday. To top it off, she has been discharged home from the hospital in order to be surrounded by those she loves. Her IV’s have been discontinued, and she’s responsive to touch and pain. However, she’s still getting her feedings through a tube and well, she really cannot talk. But considering where she was two weeks ago … this is absolutely incredible that she has such strength inside of her. And that has taught me the lesson of humility. That we can prepare for the very worse and things could turn out better than we think. God (and Grandma, too) could have other things planned that we are still not aware of.

And purity? Well … it’s a stretch, but the fact that I was able to talk to my Grandma on the phone … well, that was pure joy. As my Mom held the phone up to my Grandma, I told her how much I loved her and missed her deeply. I told her that I wish she could stay strong and get better, but that if she couldn’t do so … I would understand. I told her that I just wanted for her to be peaceful and happy. And while I knew I wouldn’t get to hear her beautiful voice respond to me, I just knew that she understood what I said. That purity of heart and soul inside my Grandma … that is something I’ve always seen in my every interactions in the past with her. And that is what I felt today.

I miss my Mom. And I miss my Grandma, my Lola. And if I could be there to “wash” their feet … to show them some humility and purity (well, as pure as I can get) … I totally would.

Grandma, you continue to surprise every single one of us with your strength. I love you and I just want you to be in peace. I’m praying for you and for all of our family members … that we will pull through with the amazing grace that you’ve always shown us. Thank you for your strength in heart and humility.

Happy Holidays!

Wow. It’s been a whirlwind few months. Actually, it’s been quite a year. But we won’t go into that, as it’s documented quite well in these virtual pages.

What I really want to say, besides “Happy Holidays” and such is this. Thank you for everyone that has read my ramblings over the years. Whether you’ve commented or not, just knowing that there is someone out there “listening” to my hopes, dreams, heartbreaks and heartaches means more than you’ll ever know.

And my wish is that my writings, my sometimes incoherent babble … somehow touched you in some way. It could have been a silly comment that made you smile. Or an angry tirade that “spoke” those words you could never say aloud. Or perhaps an observation noted or a sentiment stated that precipitated a moment of genuine clarity as to the complexities of infertility or life as a first generation Asian-American.

In any case, I wish you and your family a Very Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah or Kwanzaa, a Peaceful Winter Solstice. May the warmth of this holiday season carry each and every one of you throughout your lives.

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Fleas On My Dog

No … there are no fleas on my puppy-girl, Kozzy. Actually, this is the way that my co-worker sings the Christmas carol, “Feliz Navidad.”

“Ah … now I get it,” I can hear y’all chuckling. But what does this Christmas carol have to do about Thanksgiving … other than the fact that today (or tomorrow, how ever you want to look at it) is the “official start” of the Holiday season?

Well, funny you should ask. Last year at this time Hubby & I, along with my parents, were on a Caribbean Cruise. One of the days was spent in Cozumel, Mexico where, as we stepped off the “boat” all I could hear throughout the plaza was that Christmas carol. And just the thought of hearing a Mexican Christmas Carol while in Mexico … it just had me in hysterics.

Anyway.

It’s about 8:00 am on Thanksgiving morning. Hubby’s getting some much needed sleep in the bedroom while I’m on the couch typing away on my lappie. I’m still getting these horrible coughing fits, but for the most part I’m feeling much better. Although, I have this feeling I’ll be losing my voice by the end of the day today. Damn sore throat.

Plans for today include lunch with my parents after the traditional Filipino Thanksgiving Mass. My parents asked us if we were going to attend; in which I promptly said that this morning was the only opportunity for us to unwind before another busy weekend. Which, in a sense, is the plain truth. But I also just honestly don’t feel like having to deal with the inevitable social conversations that involve Filipino acquaintances commenting on our child-less status. Seriously, there’s only so much of this an infertile can take … even if it’s been more than ten years! But seriously, it should be a nice sit-down lunch with my parents at the local Italian restaurant.

What?! Did you just say restaurant?!

Mmhmm. Yes. Emily, with or without the apron strings, is not exactly that great of a cook. And quite frankly, while I can do a turkey dinner, it just doesn’t seem to make much sense to do so when it’s only going to be the four of us. Oh, I suppose I could invite Hubby’s family and the other members of my side of the family … but then that would mean 20+ people in our home which, at most is only comfortable to fit five around the table. So yes … turkey lunch at a restaurant with my parents.

But don’t you worry, we’ll still have the traditional turkey fixin’s. At Hubby’s parents house. Later tonite. Where YAY! I get to see my nephew and niece. And BOO! Might not get to hold niece because of being a bad sicko.

So overall, busy day. But one that will be spent with family. After all … isn’t that what holidays are about?

Oh, and technically this is also supposed to be the day to express gratitude … so, without further ado …

Things to be extra-thankful of this year:

  1. An incredible husband who takes care of me when I’m sick (and we’re talking both physically and emotionally), and who has been my rock for the past 12 years.
  2. Loving and supportive parents who understand the reason for upcoming changes
  3. IRL friends and co-workers (not to mention bosses) that have also been supportive and excited for my upcoming change in employment
  4. Extra-wonderful pets … who have no idea what changes are store for all of us, but who are always willing to snuggle with me and give me some furbaby love
  5. An incredible online group of friends who have weathered with me during some of THE MOST difficult times in my life over the past year

    And last but certainly not least,

  6. God for giving me back a little bit of faith in this world. That somehow when one door closes … another door opens. Even though it might not be the door that you were hoping would open.

Happy Thanksgiving, Blogland!!