It's OK Not to be OK

Before I carry on, let me be clear that this has nothing to do with the K-drama with the same title. I must admit though that it was a beautiful drama series. 

Since the onset of Covid-19 five years ago, there have been a handful of deaths among family and friends. Intellectually, I would accept that as something natural, that we're all going to experience that at some point in time. However, emotionally it is something painful and difficult. Indeed, as Dr Abercio Rotor, one of my professors in UST Graduate School, would put it "[in the  death of a loved one] there is a part of us that has also died."

This came really true in my father's passing. 

Being the eldest among my siblings, I have tried my best to show composure during bereavement. When my paternal grandmother passed away twenty five years ago, I kept myself busy with contacting other relatives, friends, and acquaintances to inform them of the sad news (my Lola died and was buried in the States), made arrangements for a Requiem Mass, etc. Before I know it, I was just carrying on as normal...not! 

During New Year's Eve 2000, as I was saying Grace before our medianoche, I broke down in tears. It was only then that I was able to mourn for my Lola's passing. 

Fast forward, when I arrived in Oklahoma this May, I was shown the room where Papa passed away two days previously. My bed was already fixed, on the same spot where he died. I knelt before the bed and said my prayers, and cried. Kristina, my youngest sister, consoled me and gave me a hug.

I thought that our family puts up a strong face during such sorrowful events, but I was wrong. Everyone shed a tear for Papa. Everyone showed how vulnerable they were at the loss of a loved one.

As we left the crematorium, I tried to maintain my composure. But when my sister Nicola asked, "Are you OK?", I couldn't hide my grief. For a few minutes, we were just there in the car park crying.

The moral of the story is this: if you have to cry, then cry. It can be privately - I find visits before the Blessed Sacrament to be quite an uplifting experience. It can be with family or friends that you can trust. Allow yourself to mourn. Don't bottle it up like a firecracker that once ignited would be blown into smithereens. There are moments in life, such as bereavement, when it's OK not to be OK.

At Peace

 

(My father and former web columnist has passed away on 29 April 2025. I am sharing with you the eulogy I delivered during the final viewing of his remains in Edmond, Oklahoma, USA on 3 May 2025.)

Each of us has lost a father, brother, grandfather, uncle, and friend in our beloved Mario. And as he lay asleep in the blessed hope of the Resurrection, I remember how he told us when we were kids to respect someone who is asleep: Kung ayaw mong matulog, magpatulog ka. I once disobeyed this house rule and was smacked accordingly.

As Papa lays asleep, let us allow him to sleep in peace. To do this, I am reminded of some advice he once told me: rise to the occasion. In those moments of unforgiveness, we rise to forgive. In times of despair, we rise to hope. In times of need, we rise to reach out.

I have not received any sign from Papa since his passing, but listening to your stories and relating with you, I realize that you are his signs for me. Recently, Emmy Garon, wife of the late Bob Garon, wrote to say that she will never, ever forget Papa. He did something which he never expected will save thousands and thousands of lives who were addicted to drugs. To this day, what he implemented in DARE is now the official method of rehabilitation in the Philippines. 

Papa has made a difference in our lives. We too are called to make a difference in the lives of the people around us. Doing so, Papa would be at peace.

Thank you, Gio and Marcia, for welcoming Papa into your home. Thank you, Tita Meddy and Tito Teddy, for being there for Papa when he was so ill. You stayed by his side as long as he needed you. Thank you, Gio’s friends for accepting Papa as part of your families. He spent the last years of his life enjoying the warmth and love that you showered him. I am pretty much sure that he will put a good word for you all when he meets the Lord.

We just recited a Chaplet of Divine Mercy. Before Papa passed away, Tita Meddy prayed this beautiful devotion with some of the family around him. Tito Teddy told me that when the fourth decade was recited, Papa’s countenance became peaceful. The next time you recite the Chaplet, please remember Papa in your prayers.

On behalf of my siblings and our families, as well as the Valdes-Albano Clan, thank you for being with us in these difficult times. God bless.
 

Mar

I first met Marvin, or Mar as we fondly call him,  when I would pay Bro Totoy Manlises a visit in their former home and shop along Juan Luna Street many years ago. As President of the Apostleship of Prayer-Youth then, I coordinated our group's activities with Bro Totoy who was the Parish Pastoral Council's Worship Committee Chair at that time. Mar was working in the shop's office downstairs and would often be the point of reference if one would look for his employer.

I worked with him in the parish the first time when Mike Flores, who was President of the Parish Youth Council, asked us to be part of the choir to represent the parish in the Vicariate's Christmas Concert in Gagalangin in 1993. We sung Halina sa Belen.  We had a great time in that event meeting fellow parishioners and representatives from various parishes. That event paved the way for us working side-by-side.

As Editor-in-Chief of Anluwage at that time, I worked closely with some members, one of which was Mar. As the newsletter was relying solely on donations, we have to look for sponsors and donors to help us publish the newsletter. Mar looked after this in coordination with Vlad Reyes, the newsletter's Treasurer.

Holy Week 1994 saw Anluwage taking charge of the annual Stations of the Cross held every Good Friday, as part of its agreement with the Silent Arms of St Joseph (SASJ). The SASJ used to organize this event in the past. A week before Holy Week, after the 9:30am Sunday Mass, Mar and I (along with the 14 pictures of the Stations of the Cross) rode a sidecar throughout the parish. We knocked at some doors and asked residents if their home could represent one of the stations. The residents, some of which we do not know personally, agreed. We then handed to them a picture of the station of the Cross they would represent come Good Friday. Good Friday came and there was a considerable number of parishioners who joined. Mar was busy with the sound system on a side car, Aye Balla was in-charge of the songs, Mike Flores looked after the flow of the procession, etc.

I worked again with Mar when Anluwage staged Pitong Hapis, Pitong Tuwa (Ang Dula ng Buhay ni San Jose) in Gagalangin in 1997 and 1998. Mar, in his jolly self, told me how he has to switch roles from shepherd in one scene to a priest in another, from a parent in one scene to a townsfolk in another. No matter how various roles he played there (as well as in other events organized by the group), Mar did not complain. He joyfully carried out whatever role he was entrusted with. He generously lent a hand where he is needed.

We worked together again when I served as a lector/commentator for the Children's Mass in Gagalangin in 1997 and later at the Manila Cathedral in 1998. He was a member of the Spiritus Domini Choir. The choir and I served in the same Mass. After Mass, we would congregate at what used to be the Cathedral lounge for breakfast and would usually go home together riding 2 jeepneys - one from Intramuros to Blumentritt and another from Blumentritt to Gagalangin.

The last time I saw Mar, as well as his daughter Cyrene (RIP), was in 2006 during Anluwage's reunion in our house. Still, we kept in touch through social media.

A few days ago, I was shocked to hear the sad news of his untimely demise. A husband, a worker, a church and community volunteer was suddenly snatched by a gunman's bullet. Thirty years ago, I lost another friend from a shooting incident. I feel that this is a wake-up call for our society to rethink, revisit, and thrash out gun culture.

Our hearts go out to Connie and family in this time of sorrow and bereavement. Hindi natutulog ang Diyos. He hears Mar's blood crying from the ground (cf. Gen 4:10) and will see to it that justice is done to his chosen ones who cry out to him day and night (Lk 18:7).

Mar, thank you for your friendship and support. May the angels bring your kind soul before God where there is peace, forgiveness, and healing.

Eternal Rest

Travelling to the north of the Philippines with my grandparents and the rest of the clan many years ago, has been informative and instructive for me.  From Manila going to Ilocos Norte, you would easily learn by heart the various provinces that you need to pass through to get to your destination: Bulacan, Pampanga, Tarlac, Pangasinan, La Union,  and Ilocos Sur (now this province makes travel time longer as you have to pass through its entire stretch).  You would also see for yourselves the old churches and other edifices, learn which is the capital of which province, etc.  

As devout Catholics, Lolo Paul and Lola Piling would pray the Rosary as part of our journey.  But what made me wonder was that every time we would pass by a cemetery, Lolo Paul, in his booming voice, would utter "Eternal rest, grant unto them, O Lord".  To which, the rest of us (or at least those who know it) would respond "And let perpetual light shine upon them". "May they rest in peace," Lolo would then say. To which every one would reply "Amen".  You could imagine how many times this "exchange of words" would occur in our itinerary.  

Apart from this practice, I have been tagged along by my grandparents to a number of wakes and have assisted the late Fr Loreto Palafox, St Rita Hospital's Chaplain at that time, in the Mass.  We would also have Masses celebrated by Fr Palafox during All Souls' Day when we visit graves of his siblings at the La Loma Cemetery as well as the cenotaph at the Manila North Cemetery erected in memory of Tito Chito and companion scouts.  

I don't know where exactly my grandfather learned this devotion to the faithful departed, but I would imagine he learned this from his parents or from his older brother, Lolo Padi, whom he would have assisted in Masses for the Dead.    Apart from that, as doctors he and Lola Piling would have often encountered life and death situations. Being religious, they would have that cultivated a spiritual insight on these situations; that life is something to be cherished and shared with others for the glory of God and that death is not the end, but the beginning of life everlasting.

Lola Piling told me that on his last day on earth, Lolo Paul wanted to talk about death while making their way home from church.  Hours later, he would pass away. She told me how she consoled her dying husband, shouting prayers towards his ears.  I am amazed at how strong a woman my grandmother was when my grandfather died. She said "I could not cry, but shouted, “Thy will be done, O Lord".

In our Catechism we are taught of the 7 Corporal and 7 Spiritual Works of Mercy.  One of the Corporal Works is "to bury the dead".  One of the Spiritual Works is "to pray for the living and the dead".  My grandparents have shown, in their own way, how to practice these.  I'm grateful that they have shown me the way.  It gives me hope in what St Augustine once wrote: "Then we will be free and will see, will see and will love, will love and will praise. See, in the end it will be without end".

Lolo Paul, as we remember your 29th Death Anniversary this 19th of November, we implore that the Risen Lord would grant you, as well as Lola Piling and all the faithful departed (particularly those who died in the earthquake and typhoon that hit the Philippines recently), the eternal rest that you have always aspired and prayed for.  May you now enjoy that freedom to see, love, and praise God in His kingdom. We love you!

Saan Ka Man Naroroon

Devotion to the Faithful Departed (a.k.a. Holy Souls) has been embedded in our faith as Catholic Christians. We offer Masses and other prayers for the dead. We visit our loved ones' graves on special occasions.  For Catholic Pinoys, Todos los Santos (All Saints' Day), is a spectacle as we flock to cemeteries to pay tribute to the dead in a festive way.

I recall the many childhood years when my late aunt Mommy Rosie Samaniego would tag me along to 2 religious events devoted to the dead.  The first one is the Rosario Cantada, an old practice in Kawit, Cavite which some families would offer for their dead on occasions such as the pasiyam (Novena for the dead) or 40 days.  (This practice per se is not only held for the dead.  The outgoing Ina, during those days, would have the Rosario Cantada in her house on the night before she and the Ama turn over their responsibilities to their successors.) 

As the name suggests, Mommy and her fellow cantoras (lady singers) would chant the Rosary.  Musical accompaniment is provided by Lolo Gusing and his colleagues.  I don't recall exactly the lyrics, but I have a gut feeling that they were in Latin.  Due to migration abroad and/or death of singers or musicians, I think this devotion became defunct. I wish this could be revived.

Another act of piety which Mommy used to do was to sing during the Funeral Masses in Kawit. Her favourite song was "Saan Ka Man Naroroon" (Wherever You Are), a Tagalog kundiman (love song) composed by National Artist Levi Celerio.  This song was sung during Communion or when people are placing flowers on the casket, as what has been the practice before the burial.  Mommy would change the word sinta from time to time.  If the dead is an elder male, she would use the word "Itay" or "Ama". If it is an elder female, it is "Inay" or "Ina".  There were, as far as I could remember, two funerals when Mommy didn't sing it: during the Mass for Tito Carling (her younger brother) and Lolo Gusing.

Apart from this beautiful song, I was also exposed to the beauty of Kawit's liturgy for the dead such as the priest welcoming the dead and their bereaved at the door of the church, the incensing of the casket, and (during the late Msgr Hernando Godoy's time) the chanting of Requiem aeternam (Eternal rest). I learned the responses by heart so much so that during Mommy's wake, I managed to respond to Msgr Godoy's Latin prayers. 

I was told that there were other good practices for the dead (such as the priest joining the procession to the church and to the cemetery) that used to be in vogue, but have been put in the back burner.  I'm thankful that Mommy showed me what remains of such wonderful tradition.

After the Mass, we would join the rest of the mourners to the cemetery in Barangay Wakas on foot.  There was one incident that I won't forget one time we attended a funeral.  The neighbourhood barber passed away.  During the interment, it rained that the cemetery was muddy.  I saw some kids bigger than me stepped on a big slab of stone. So I followed them. Because of our weight, the slab broke!  Meanwhile,the sepultureros (gravediggers) were looking for a slab that was needed to seal the grave.  They have already cemented 2 together. Suddenly, someone noticed us stepping on the missing slab!  Mommy was so embarrassed and apologised profusely for our naughtiness.

In the family bereavements, Mommy wasn't the weepy type of person.  Though I may have seen her shed and wipe a tear, she exuded confidence and strength of character.  I've also seen her comfort those who are mourning, not thinking so much of her own grief.

Watching the videos that Manong Bob (her only son) took during her last moments on earth, she faced death with calmness and grace drawn from the Risen Lord Jesus. 

Saan ka man naroon, Mommy, thank you for being such a good example of how we should be devoted to those who have gone before us.  May we also show them the love and gratitude you have rendered them.

Here's a tribute to you on your birth anniversary this November 11. May you rest in peace!

Pia

It was an exhausting Maundy Thursday at the office, especially as the University will be closed on Good Friday till Easter Tuesday.  When I went home, my wife was telling me some news from Manila - Pia Girlie Guevarra, a former classmate and best friend of my youngest sister Kristina, was killed.  At first I couldn't put a face on the name as all my 3 sisters had several classmates who used to go to our house in Gagalangin.  (Years ago, in UST, when a student greets me with the familiar "Manong Piet" I am often dumbfounded as who this person is - until they would introduce themselves as So-and-so, the classmate of one of my sisters.)

While at a loss as who Pia was, I prayed for her and her loved ones during the Mass of the Lord's Supper.  The following day, Kristina showed me Pia's photo. Suddenly I began to recognize her! She was linked to me not only through my sister, but also through her Dad, Angel, a member of the Knights of Columbus in Gagalangin!

Kristina told me the shocking news that Pia was gunned while driving her car - she actually shielded Tita Ruth, her mom from the attack. One of the gunshots hit her heart which was fatal. I learned that she and her mom came from the bank where they withdrew money to pay for the salary of their workers - as the 31st fell on a Sunday and offices are closed from Maundy Thursday, the 2nd batch salary (first batch being on the 15th) was to be given on the 27th. Apparently, the gunmen chased them.  I couldn't help, but ask: Is this how desparate some people are that they would kill in order to steal? I couldn't see the logic at all!

Kristina mentioned to me that Pia's family was attending a prayer meeting during the first few hours of the wake. A religious and simple family, the Guevarras were asking for guidance as they face this trial in their lives.

Pia is the Latin word for loving.  In her untimely and horrible death, her 2 very young kids lost a loving mother; her parents, a loving daughter; her siblings, a loving sister; her friends, a loving confidant.

In closing, I would like to share an excerpt of the "Final Prayer and Blessing" which our group said during our Way of the Cross last Good Friday.  I find this very appropriate for Pia and her bereaved family:

We pray for those...who are killed through violence...for all who die out of due season. That the Lord of all mercies will make good their loss in this life and gladden them with the glory of heaven.

We pray for those who mourn the loss of those they have loved long and well. That their sorrow might be free from hopeless grief and from the agony of bitter regrets. We pray that they might mourn in hope, knowing that the one who is Alpha and Omega embraces the living and the dead in his loving compassion and purpose.

May God bless your loving soul, Pia.

My sincerest condolences to Tito Angel, Tita Ruth, and family.

A Visit to Lolo and Lola

My family and I visited New York mid-September for a week.  We stayed at my sister Nicola's apartment in Manhattan - my mother also stays with her.  We've visited a number of places in the city which I will write on separately.

On the last leg of our visit, we (together with sisters Nicola and Kristina) went to Staten Island via ferry boat from downtown Manhattan (near Battery Park and the St Elizabeth Ann Seton Church).  Staten Island is where most of Papa's siblings and their families live.  Papa fetched us and one of my sisters told him that we wanted to visit the graveyard of our grandparents Lolo Paul and Lola Piling as well as that of Tita Aning, Papa's first cousin.

Unlike Manhattan, Staten Island seems more relaxed and has a considerable amount of trees and other natural resources. It was a sunny 15th of September. 

Days ago, I was having thoughts of what will I say on my grandparents' grave. Should I introduce Nidz and Chiara to them? Will I sing for them "Salve Regina", a song they once sang? When we arrived at the Moravian Cemetery, Papa tidied up the place as there have been rubbish covering the epitaph. Nicola put some flowers we bought for them. As for me, all my plans evaporated. I couldn't say a thing. Papa started to lead us in prayer and then we stayed for a few minutes just to look at the place and exchange pleasantries with Pilar Vera, a first cousin who came by. Still, I couldn't say a thing. I just gazed at the grave.  Kristina started saying (to my grandparents) "Here is your grandson." I became teary-eyed, but managed to hide it. I simply kissed the epitaph twice - one for Lolo and one for Lola as a sign of my respect, the way I did when they were still alive.

As our relatives were waiting for us in a house nearby, we started to wrap up our visit by having a picture taking (see above).  Chiara, strangely, stood on top of the epitaph. I put my hands on her  to protect her from falling.  The ease and speed of technology brought this picture to another part of the globe. My brother Gio (who's in Singapore) would later tell me that he saw the picture and was asking why I let Chiara stood on the epitaph. My brother felt it seems disrespectful. I told him I don't think so. For me, Chiara standing on top of the epitaph, is a statement that she has Albano roots. That she is a great granddaughter of Paulino and Pilar.

It was my first visit to my grandparents' burial place and I felt their presence. Perhaps that was the reason why I was speechless. It was an emotional occasion.  I'm very grateful for having been there with my wife and child and with other members of the family.  In a way, I felt Lolo and Lola were still alive in the faith that we continue to live, celebrate, and share.The same faith that they once cherished and passed on to us.

May God bless their souls. Amen.

Tita Erling

Hanging on Manong Don Samaniego’s living room is an interesting painting. Quite bucolic, it portrays a vast rice field ready for harvest. At the background filled with trees and other natural resources a farmer, though busy, glances at the foreground where a lady is sat next to a little girl. It seems to me that the lady and the girl are the farmer’s wife and child. Looking more closely, the people’s faces in the painting become familiar – Tito Otie (Manong Don’s father) as the farmer, Tita Erling (Manong Don’s mother) as the lady/farmer’s wife, and Donita (Manong Don’s youngest daughter) as the little girl.


For me, this portrayal of Tita Erling presents to us in a nutshell her essence as a wife, mother, and grandmother. Apart from having that talent in dressmaking, she also possessed that skill in managing finances. She was also an excellent cook. I guess these are but some important aspects of being a good homemaker.

Reflecting back on that lovely painting, I could see her leaning towards the little girl, not removing her eyes from the child. It’s as though regardless of what happens around, her focus is on the little one. Tita Erling comes across as a caring person, someone who would go out of her way in order to be with her loved ones. She may not be always present in family reunions in Kawit, Cavite but that absence is compensated by the way she treated us like VIPs in her home or the pleasant conversation we have had when we saw each other.

During the last years of her life, she had a stroke and was subsequently bedridden. I paid her a visit on New Year’s Day a year ago when I was in Manila. When I came to her room, Tito Otie asked her if she knew me. She looked at me and said in her soft voice “Si Piet!” (It’s Piet). I won’t forget that visit. That final visit to her.

Tita Erling has left us three values. When hatred seems to get the better of us, let her kindness take hold of us. When we want to complain about everything - even petty things or annoyances - let her forbearance prompt us to remain calm. When all our efforts fail, let her faith inspire us to carry on in our mission.

Tita Erling, thank you for touching our lives in your special way. You have been a light for your family till the end. We will keep that light burning. We will pass it on. Rest now, dear Aunt, in the abiding presence of God. We love you!

Sincerest condolences to Tito Otie, Manong Don-Ate Ellen, Manang Mae-Ariel ,Manang Ping-Groovee, and their children.

In His Memory

For a year or so, we lived in my paternal grandparents' house in Cavite Street, Gagalangin, Tondo. I was five years old. The house during that time only had 3 kids: me and my younger siblings Giovanni and Gisela. (Later on, a 4th child would arrive: Nicola, another sister.) Everyday at 5am, I would be wakened by an intercom message from my Lolo Paul: "Pietro, gising na. Magsisimba na tayo." (Pietro, wake up. We're going to Mass.)

Our househelp would then get me fixed and bring me to my grandparents' room. As I enter the room, I would see them already fixed. My Lolo would put on some perfume and then give me a squirt as well - one on each side of my shirt. I couldn't remember the name of the perfume, but it seemed to have a nice fragrance.

We three would then walk to the family's hospital nearby where Mass will be held. Lolo Paul would hold my hand as we cross T Earnshaw Street. At the chapel, there would be a few people already, mostly the same age as my grandparents. Fr Loreto Palafox, the hospital chaplain, would arrive and would point out something in a black book to Lolo. At a tender age, I didn't have any clue what is the Mass or what's happening in there. All I know was, that it feels good to be there to see the priest leading the people. Later on, I would see my Lolo holding the black book and read something from it. He looked really dignified as he reads something from there which, later on I would discover to be God's Word - the same Word that I proclaim as a lector in a number of churches and chapels I have served (including the family's hospital).

My grandparents conducted themselves well during the Mass. Lola Piling had a habit of removing her slippers during this. I asked her why and she told me that "Nandoon kasi si Jesus." (Jesus is present in the Mass.) I now recalled how the Lord, as a burning bush, told Moses to remove his sandals because he was standing on holy ground.

When I was assigned to do the reading for a cousin's wedding many years ago (I was 9 years old then), some people praised me. I told them, I got it from my Lolo.

When we left their house to move to our own, the practice of attending daily Mass was neglected. However, there seems to be that spiritual hunger in me that prompted me to go to Mass when I can. When I was studying in Angelicum during my elementary years, I would often be one of the earliest to go to our family service after classes. The transportation we use would always be parked near the Santo Domingo Church. It was October then and, as you would know, the church had the La Naval celebration and Masses were offered every now and then. I went along while waiting for my cousins to arrive. I managed to attend a number of Masses during weekdays. The waiting became an opportunity for me to join in the Eucharistic celebration.

In our home country, you wouldn't lose the opportunity to attend Mass (be it daily or Sunday). If you get late in one Mass, there's surely another one to be offered soon or there's another one due in another church nearby. However, if you move to a different country whose culture has no space for God, you might miss going to Mass or worse, forget all about it. My advice: Don't forget or neglect your faith. Ask the Holy Spirit to help you.

We're not required to attend daily Mass. It would be nice if we could make time for that. What is required is to attend Mass during Sundays and holydays of obligation.

When I attend Mass I am touched by Jesus' command which is often quoted during the Consecration: "Do this in memory of me." And as I recall these words of the Lord, I'm also reminded to remember the people who introduced me the Mass, whose lives have shown me a glimpse of God's face - my Lolo Paul and Lola Piling especially.

I hope that when my time's up, I would once again hear an intercom message from my Lolo saying "Pietro, halika na. Magsisimba na tayo." (Pietro, let's go. We're going to Mass.). I believe that in heaven, there is a Mass going on where all the souls would praise the Lord without end.

I hope he'll perfume me once again, this time with an eternal scent that is pleasing to the Lord.

Finally, I hope he'll hold my hand once more and lead me to that great celebration where we would see and love and praise God forever.

Thank you, Lolo Paul! May God grant you eternal rest in His presence.

***

It's the Solemnity of Christ the King this coming Sunday. Jesus' leadership style is that of service. Let's take this opportunity to pray for all our leaders that they would follow the Lord's example of being a shepherd-king to the people they ought to serve, a leader who would be with their people come hell or high water.

In England and Wales, this Sunday is also National Youth Day. Let's pray and support our young people that they would dedicate their enthusiasm, strength, ideas, and skills for the building up of God's kingdom.

***

I was shocked to hear the untimely demise of Cristino Pagdonzolan Jr, a former High School classmate in Letran (1st year and 3rd year), last week due to heart attack. A person I have never seen to be at odds with anyone, he possessed that personal touch (and smile a la Romnick Sarmenta!) with those he worked with. He will be sorely missed. My sincerest condolences to his family.

May God bless your kind soul, Totoy!

Tita Jing

She was one of the two doctoras (lady doctors)in the Tria Tirona-Castro Clan; the other one is Tita Stella Castro, a dentist. Whenever we go home to Kawit, Cavite, we won't miss passing by their house since it lies on the calle real (main road). Her and Tita Stella's clinics are also located at their home. Maria Aurora "Tita Jing" Castro-Gines was an EENT (Eyes, Ears, Nose, Throat) doctor.

The Castros are religious and have been actively involved in parish work. Lola Urs, their mom, used to be a lector/commentator. Lolo Tony, their dad, was a special minister of Holy Communion. Tita Jing, Tita Tel, and Tito Sancho all followed their mom's footsteps.

Attending Mass in Kawit, I have been touched by how that family prays together. I was inspired to attend more fervently the Mass due to their good example. On a number of occasions, I would witness Tita Jing proclaiming God's Word on the lectern. I have also seen her once in Santa Cruz Church attending Mass and worshipping the Blessed Sacrament during its Exposition. Tita Jing's witnessing to the Word enthused me to serve God as a lector/commentator - in Manila, first in my mother parish and then at the metropolitan cathedral, and now in the UK.

A day after I graduated from UST, I went to Kawit since it was Palm Sunday that day. As I made my way to an available seat in church, I saw Tita Jing (and the rest of the family proceeding to their seats) and shared with her the good news (of me graduating). She was happy for me and asked if I would proceed to medicine (which was my original plan). I told her that I had another plan though.

There have been a few rare occasions I would see her since then like All Saints' Day, Christmas, etc until I left for the UK. Quite glad that our God is in full control of technology and so in Facebook we once again met! We had a few chats catching up on how things are going. She even became one of our Facebook friends in Tanghalang Anluwage, Inc! When we sent an invite to all friends to join us for our annual online Seven Last Words last Holy Week, she told us that she can't make it, but would join us in spirit.

I was sad to hear that she was suffering from liver cancer and kept in touch with her siblings and nieces - Janine (my former classmate) and her Ate Didith. Her demise came as a surpise for me. I never though it was that worse when I had some chats with her in Facebook and was hoping we could be reunited when I visit the Philippines soon. Yet God has other plans I think.

I will surely miss Tita Jing. In her sickness, she put her trust in God and she was never failed by our faithful Lord. Her example and life prod us all to continue serving God and His people. May the Risen Christ bless her soul.

My heartfelt sympathies to Lola Urs, Tito Ewat, and family.

Tito Bio

After delivering the Eulogy for Lola Piling during the Requiem Mass we offered her in Gagalangin Church 10 years ago, I was surprised to the round of applause I received. Normally, eulogies are met with silence complexed with tears and sobs. The applause was started by my uncle Eusebio Albano.

A namesake of my great-grandfather, Tito Bio (as we would call him) was my father's first cousin; his father Sotero was my grandfather's older brother.

The applause that I received was, for me, Tito Bio's affirmation of support and sympathy at that time of great loss. It was as though telling me that I am not alone and that he's here for me and for the rest of the bereaved. There were still others who delivered their messages of condolence to the family during that Mass, all of whom were applauded, again led by my dear uncle.

A month before Lola Piling's death, I was at a wedding where he was one of the principal sponsors. During the reception, I was sat next to him and Tito Rusty Samaniego (another uncle; my Mother's older brother). Tito Rusty started having a conversation with him about ballroom dancing which was having its revival during that time. I left the table to see some other guests and from afar I could see both of them still conversing (which went on and on). I don't know if Tito Bio was an avid fan of ballroom dancing, but the way I see him talk to Tito Rusty gave me the impression that he was an active listener.

A good husband and father, I used to bump into him and Tita Linda (his wife) during the Novena and Procession in honor of Our Lady of the Rosary of La Naval in Quezon City when I was still in the Philippines. He was also a special minister of Holy Communion in his parish. I also learned from a former colleague at the Manila Cathedral that he used to be one of the 'apostles' during the Maundy Thursday Mass in that church - a role that I would be doing during the times I was part of that beloved community.

At a time when we are so generous in citing the wrongs and the bad points of others, but are so stingy in celebrating their goodness, Tito Bio's gift of affirmation is what we want to grow into better persons and communities.

At a time when we want ourselves and only ourselves to be heard, his gift of attentiveness is what we need to foster if we wish to reach out to others.

At a time when we are swamped by materialism, hedonism, and all the bad 'isms', his gift of faith is what we need to 'let go and let God'.

Thank you, Tito Bio for your kindness and love. May you enjoy the everlasting reward of happiness with God. You will be sorely missed.

To Tita Linda, my cousins, nephews, and nieces, my heart goes out to you at this time of bereavement. May the good Lord, the source of all consolation, be with you always.