Time Out of Mind

Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 04 November 2024

*Photo by author, Nagsasa Cove, San Antonio, Zambales, 19 October2024.*

Lately I have noticed my getting delayed of turning calendars in my room. Normally, I would be late for only a day or two but since June, it has sometimes taken even weeks. Worst was September when it was already about to end when I noticed my calendars stuck in August!

There are three calendars in my room: first is the large type given away by hardware stores located at the back of my entrance door which I could read from my bed with its big fonts; second is an average-sized religious calendar with pictures of saints and dates of their feast I keep in the closet so I would see every morning when I put on my clothes; and the third one is a table calendar on my desk where I work. That’s the only one updated and most used but the other two bigger ones, I fear are slowly becoming obsolete to me like the alarm clock (because I always wake up ahead of its alarm).

*Photo by Leeloo The First on Pexels.com*

As I age, calendars along with watches seem to be irrelevant with me.

Personally, it is ironic because I have long kept a sort of relationship with calendars, keeping them along with some planners since college in the 1980’s. I don’t know why. Basta – I love looking at old calendars, giving me that sense of joy within when I literally look back in time, recalling the reminders and important events I have jotted on them decades ago.

But now, sadly as I recall this major change in me, I feel to have lost that “lovin’ feeling” I used to have with calendars that have been replaced, of all things, by medicines.

You read it right. I now reckon time, especially the months not with calendars anymore but with maintenance meds I take daily – 30 days – to keep my sugar, blood pressure and cholesterol in control as well as my prostrate to remain “gentle”. Once a week, usually on a Monday morning, I fill my medicine dispenser with all the meds I will be taking from Sunday to Saturday.

*Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com*

It always funny when I do this weekly ritual like playing sungka: there are times I wonder with some irritation why my meds are getting fewer. That is when I realize the month is almost over and I have to buy again another 30 pieces of my meds for the next 30 days. And that is how I now count the days of each month…

Whenever I would do this ritual, Mitch Albom’s novel “The Time Keeper” comes to mind, reminding me of the value of time we often take for granted. I cannot recall in which part of the novel where one of the characters realized that “the reason God limits our days is to make each one precious.” Very true. It is said that “it is not time that is passing by but you who are passing by” because we cannot bring back time we have wasted with its opportunities to grow and learn, to live and love, to celebrate and laugh.

Lately I have been thinking if I am just going through a phase as I approach the age of 60 that would be in March next year. Is this part of getting old, of maturing?

Most likely.

How funny, even stupid how we have kept ourselves busy all our lives, complaining about time when time has always been on our side.

Maybe one of the reasons why elder people mellow as they age is that we are no longer so concerned with time as something separate from us, divided into parts we try to gather and hold because the truth is, time is the reality itself, we are a being-in-time, not distinct from us nor apart, but always our wholeness. It does not really matter if it is the past or the future but always the here and the now, the present.

Time in its entirety is a cosmic reality within us which we cannot fully grasp yet. Not yet. That’s what we call heaven, which is already here but not yet. And achievable. Let me explain.

It seems to me that at the age of 59, our main task in life is to live fully in each moment. Though I would admit I am afraid of dying, death is something we must befriend. Coming to terms with life is coming to terms with death, and vice versa. When that happens, then, we have arrived truly in life. That’s heaven, Just in time. This we experience so well when we truly love as this anonymous saying tells us:

Time is fast for those who rush;
Time is slow for those who wait;
Time is not for those who love.

“Time is not for those who love” is what the Greeks refer to in their other word for time called kairos or “fullness of time”. It is the time of the Lord, when we are one with God in Jesus Christ. It is that moment when everything falls into its right places which I believe is what Paulo Coelho referred to in one of his novels “when the whole universe conspires in your favor.”

The other word for time by the Greeks is kronos from which the word chronology came from to refer to the the succession and measurement of time in seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years; kairos is the fullness of time. Again, from Albom’s “The Time Keeper”, there is this line that says, “If you you are measuring life, you are not living it.” Same thing holds true with time; if we keep on measuring it, we shall never have it nor enjoy it.

Maybe you have chanced upon our blogs here of our great weekend three weeks ago in Nagsasa Cove, San Antonio, Zambales (https://lordmychef.com/2024/10/25/friday-im-in-love-part-2/ and https://lordmychef.com/2024/10/29/friday-im-in-love-part-3/). Until now, the weekend bonding and fun we have there has remained so fresh and refreshing for me.

While there in Nagsasa Cove, one of the songs that kept playing at the back of my mind was Steely Dan’s Time Out Of Mind from their 1980 album Gaucho. Despite the critics’ insistence of its strong links with heroin use which I have never tried, it is one of my top favorite songs by the Steely Dan gods, Donald Fagen and the late Walter Becker. Oh how I imagined them telling me this…

Son you better be ready for love
On this glory day
This is your chance to believe
What I've got to say
Keep your eyes on the sky
Put a dollar in the kitty
Don't the moon look pretty

Our world has become so complicated like Facebook. It is all palabas, a show. No meaning nor substance at all because we have been trying to capture and keep time instead of allowing it to capture us, envelop us so we can move more freely with it within to discover more of the outside. No stress, no pressures. No calendars too!

Just time out of mind. Thank you for bearing with me.

From YouTube.com.

Sa buhay at kamatayan, bulaklak nagpapahayag ng buhay

Lawiswis ng Salita ni P. Nicanor F. Lalog II, Ika-31 ng Oktubre 2024

“Say it with flowers” ang marahil isa na sa mga pinakamabisa at totoong pagpapahayag ng saloobin sa lahat ng pagkakataon. Wala ka na talagang sasabihin pa kapag ikaw ay nagbigay ng bulaklak kanino man. Ano man ang okasyon. Buhay man. O patay na.

Mababango at makukulay na bulaklak. Mas maganda at mas mahal, pinakamabuti lalo’t higit kung ibibigay sa sinisinta upang mabatid nilalaman ng dibdib ng isang mangingibig.

*Larawan kuha ng may-akda sa Benguet, 12 Hulyo 2023.*

Sa buong daigdig, nag-iisang wika at salita ang mga bulaklak na ginagamit upang ihatid ang tuwa at kagalakan sa sino man nagdiriwang ng buhay at tagumpay, maging ng kagalingan at lakas sa may tinitiis na sakit at hilahil. Sari-saring kulay, hugis at anyo, iisa ang pinangungusap ng bulaklak sa lahat ng pagkakataon, buhay at kagalakan at kaisahan ng magkakaibigan at magkasintahan, mag-asawa at mag-anak, magkaano-ano man.

Marahil kasunod nating mga tao, ang mga bulaklak na ang pinakamagagandang nilikha ng Diyos upang ipadama at ilarawan sa atin Kanya at maging atin ding katapatan at kadalisayan ng loobin at hangarin. Alalahanin paalala ni Jesus sa atin, “Isipin ninyo kung paano sumisibol ang mga bulaklak sa parang…maging si Solomon ay hindi nakapagsuot ng kasingganda ng isa sa mga bulaklak na ito, bagamat napakariringal ang mga damit niya” (Mt. 6:28, 29).

Kapag ako ay nagkakasal, palagi kong ipinaaalala sa magsing-ibig ang kahulugan ng maraming gayak na bulaklak sa dambana ng simbahan na nagpapahiwatig ng larawan ng Paraiso.

Alalaong baga, bawat Sakramento ng Kasal ay “marriage made in heaven” – malayang ginawa at pinagtibay ng magsing-ibig sa harap ng Diyos at ng Kanyang Bayan sa loob ng simbahan. Kaya wika ko sa kanila, ipagpatuloy ang pagbibigay ng bulaklak sa maybahay kahit hindi anibersaryo, lalo na kapag mayroon silang “lover’s quarrel” bilang tanda ng “ceasefire”.

Kaya naman maski sa kamatayan, mayroon pa ring mga bulaklak na ibinibigay tanda hindi lamang ng pagmamahal kungdi ng pag-asa na harinawa, makapiling na ng yumao ang Diyos at Kanyang mga Banal sa langit. Gayon din naman, dapat katakutan ng sino mang buhay pa ang padalhan ng korona ng patay o bulaklak sa patay dahil babala ito ng masamang balak laban sa kanyang buhay.

*Lamay ni Mommy noong Mayo 7, 2024; paborito niya ang kulay pink at bulaklak na carnation.*

Dagdag kaalaman ukol sa mga bulaklak sa patay: isang dahilan kaya pinupuno ng maraming mababangong bulaklak ang pinaglalamayan ng patay ay upang matakpan masamang amoy ng yumao dahil noong unang panahon, wala pa namang maayos na sistema ng pag-eembalsamo maging ng mga gamot para ma-preserve ang labi ng yumao. Kapansin-pansin ngayon lalo sa social media kapag mayroong namamatay, ipinapahayag ng mga naulila na huwag nang magbigay o mag-alay ng mga bulaklak bagkus ay ibigay na lamang sa favorite charity ng yumao. Kundangan kasi ay malaking halaga ng pera ang magagarang bulaklak sa patay; kesa ipambili yamang malalanta rin naman, minamabuti ng mga naulila ng yumao na mag-donate na lamang sa favorite charity ng pumanaw nilang mahal sa buhay.

Marahil ay hindi ito matatanggap hindi lamang ng mga Pilipino kungdi ng karamihan ng tao sa buong mundo; higit pa ring napapahayag ang pakikiramay at pagmamahal sa namatay at mga naulila sa pamamagitan ng bulaklak dahil malalim na katotohanang taglay ng mga ito.

Tuwing Sabado Santo noong nasa parokya pa ako, gustung-gusto ko palagi sa aming umagang panalangin (lauds) na ipinahahayag iyong tagpo ng paglilibing kay Hesus.

Sa pinagpakuan kay Jesus ay may isang halamanan, at dito’y may isang bagong libingang hindi pa napaglilibingan. Yamang noo’y araw ng Paghahanda ng mga Judio, at dahil sa malapit naman ang libingang ito, doon nila inilibing si Jesus (Juan 19:41-42).

Inilibing si Jesus sa may halamanan, garden sa Inggles. Nagpapahiwatig muli ng Paraiso, hindi ba.

Kay sarap namnamin ng tagpo ng Pasko ng Pagkabuhay ni Jesus doon sa “halamanan” na muli ay paalala sa atin ng “return to Paradise”, “return to Eden” ika nga. Kaya nang lapitan ni Jesus si Magdalena nang umiiyak dahil wala ang Panginoon sa libingan, napagkamalan niya si Jesus bilang hardinero.

*Larawan kuha ng may-akda, halamanan sa St. Agnes Catholic Church, Jerusalem, Mayo 2017.*

Noong Martes, sinabi ni Jesus sa ebanghelyo na ang paghahari ng Diyos ay “Katulad ng isang butil ng mustasa na itinamin ng isang tao sa kanyang halaman” (Lk.13:19).

Bawat isa sa atin ay halamanan ng Diyos, a garden of God. A paradise in ourselves.

Maraming pagkakataon pinababayaan natin ating mga sarili tulad ng halamanang hindi dinidilig ni nililinang. Kung minsan naman, hindi nating maintindihan sa kabila ng ating pangangalaga, tila walang nangyayari sa ating sarili, tulad ng halamanang walang tumubo o lumago, mamunga o mamulaklak sa kabila ng pagaasikaso?

Nguni’t maraming pagkakataon din naman na namumulaklak, nagbubunga tayo tulad ng halamanan dahil ang tunay na lumilinang sa atin ay ang Panginoong Diyos na mapagmahal!

*Ilang araw pagkaraan ng Pasko nang kami’y magtanghalian ng barkada, 2023.*

Noong Disyembre 2022, umuwi isa naming dating teacher at kaming magkakaibigan ay nagsama-sama para sa isa pang dati naming kasama sa ICSM-Malolos, si Teacher Ceh.

Umuwi siya mula Bahrain noong 2020 dahil sa cancer at sumailalim siya ng chemotherapy.

Dahil Pasko, niregaluhan ko siya ng orchid.

Enero 2023 namasyal kami sa Tagaytay at napakasaya namin noon. Gustung-gusto niyang pinupuntahan ang Caleruega tuwing umuuwi siya mula Bahrain kung saan siya nagturo matapos mag-resign sa aming diocesan school.

Ang akala namin ay papagaling na si Teacher Ceh at dadalas na aming pagkikitang magkakaibigan mula noong simula ng 2023. Pagkatapos ng huli niyang chemotherapy noong Setyembre, nabatid na mababagsik kanyang cancer cells at hindi nagtagal, pumanaw si Teacher Ceh noong ika-16 ng Oktubre 2023.

*Larawan kuha ng may-akda, 16 Oktubre 2024.*

Isang araw bago sumapit kanyang babang-luksa, ibinalita sa amin ng kanyang Ate na umuwi mula Amerika na buhay at namumulaklak ang bigay kong orchid kay Teacher Ceh. Dinala niya ito nang magmisa ako sa kanyang puntod kinabukasan para sa kanyang ibis luksa.

Laking tuwa namin sa gitna ng nakakikilabot na pagkamangha nang makita naming magkakaibigan ang regalo kong orchids kay Teacher Ceh.

Isa’t kalahating taon pagkaraan naming huling magsama-samang magkakaibigan, isang taon makalipas ng kanyang pagpanaw, buhay at namulaklak pa rin ang orchid kong bigay sa kanya na tila nangungusap na masayang-masaya, buhay na buhay si Teacher Ceh doon sa langit!

*Sa aking silid; bigay lamang po iyang halaman na iyan at di ko alam pangalan.*

Ako man ay nagtataka. Kung kailan wala na aking Mommy, saka ako nakakabuhay ng mga halaman. Green thumb kasi si Mommy.

Kahit maliit lamang aming lupain, sagana siya sa pananim mula sa mga rosas at orchids, cactus at mga mayana, mga sari-saring halaman sa paso maging papaya, atis, langka, pati kamote at sili sa gilid ng bahay namin ay mayroon siya.

*Ito yung flower vase ng mga napatay kong waterplant sa dati kong assignment; ayaw ko sanang dalhin sa paglipat dito sa Valenzuela pero awa ng Diyos, buhay pa halaman mula 2021*.

Nakakatawa, ako hindi makabuhay ng halaman. Muntik pa akong bumagsak ng first year high school sa gardening kasi hindi ako makabuhay ng ano mang panananim maliban sa kamote. Sabi ni Mommy sa akin noon, kapag iyong kamote hindi ko pa nabuhay, ako ang talagang kamote!

Nang magkaroon ako ng sariling parokya noong 2011, nakakadalaw pa siya at simba sa amin noon tuwing Linggo. Ipinagyabang ko sa kanya mga alaga kong water plants sa kuwarto ngunit pagkaraan ng ilang buwan, namatay mga iyon. Sabi niya ulit sa akin, “ano ka ba naman anak, water plant na lang napapatay mo pa? Masyadong mainit iyong mga kamay,” aniya.

*Hoya daw ito na nakuha ko noong aking personal retreat sa Sacred Heart Novaliches noong 2022; buhay pa rin hanggang ngayon sa aking banyo.*

Isang bagay nakalimutan kong sabihin kay Mommy bago siya mamatay ay nakakabuhay na ako ng water plant sa kuwarto ko sa bago kong assignment sa Fatima Valenzuela.

Ako ay nagugulat sa sarili ko ngunit ngayon ko lamang napagnilayan nang makita ko ang orchids na regalo ko kay Teacher Ceh: apat na taon nang buhay aking mga water plant sa kwarto mula nang malipat ako dito noong 2021.

Hindi ko rin alam pangalan ng halamang ito na bigay sa akin pero nakapagpatubo na ako ng isa pa niyang sanga nasa aking office sa University; yung orchids bigay sa akin noong Abril, wala nang bulaklak pero buhayn pa rin. Himala!

Parang sinasabi sa akin ng mga alagang kong water plant na marahil, buhay na buhay at tuwang tuwa na rin si Mommy at nakabuhay ako ng halaman.

Kasi sabi niya kasi sa aking noong maliit pa ako, dapat daw marunong akong mag-alaga ng halaman at hayop dahil tanda raw iyon na makakabuhay na rin ako ng tao.

Siguro nga. Kaya ko nang mabuhay maski wala na siya, paalala marahil nitong aking mga halaman. Flowers for you, kaibigan.

Lihim ng mga pamahiin sa lamayan

Lawiswis ng Salita ni P. Nicanor F. Lalog II, Ika-30 ng Oktubre 2024

*Larawan kuha ng may-akda, St. Scholastica Retreat House, Tagaytay City, Agosto 2024.*

Heto na naman ang panahon ng maraming pagtatanong at pagpapaliwanag sa ating mga pamahiin ukol sa paglalamay sa mga patay. Matagal ko nang binalak isulat mga ito nang mamatay aking ama noong taong 2000.

Biglaan ang kanyang pagpanaw noon. Katunayan, madaling araw ng kaarawan ni Mommy, ika-17 ng Hunyo 2000. Dalawang taon pa lamang akong pari. Nasunod ang aming mga kamag-anak na sa aming tahanan paglamayan si Daddy. At noon pinuna ng ilang matatanda ang aking kawalan ng kaalaman sa maraming pamahiin at kaugalian tuwing mayroong paglalamay sa patay.

Napuna noon ng nanay ng isang kaibigan na naghahatid ako ng mga panauhin matapos makiramay sa amin. Wika niya sa akin, “alam ko” aniya, “marami kayong alam at napag-aralan, Father; hiling ko lang po sana sa inyo na igalang pamahiin naming matatanda ukol sa lamay ng patay… masama ang naghahatid ng mga nakikiramay.”

Humingi ako ng paumanhin at iyon ang una kong aral sa mga pamahiin lalo sa probinsiya – pag-galang at respeto. Huwag nating pagtawanan kanilang pamahiin at kaugalian bagkus pagnilayan, pag-aralan at tuntunin pinagmulan ng mga iyon. Higit kong naunawaan ang mga ito sa aking pagtanda lalo nang pumanaw si Mommy nitong nakaraang Mayo. Ito po ay aking sariling pagsusuri, opinyon na maaring tama o mali. Kayo na ang tumimbang kung tatanggapin at paniniwalaan.

Bago po ang lahat, ibig kong bigyang pansin ang salitang ginagamit na “bawal” at “masama” tulad ng “bawal ang ganito, masama ang ganire”. Iisa lang kahulugan nito sa ating mga Pinoy. Dito ating makikita ang positibong katangian natin na magkasing-kahulugan ang bawal at masama kasi “ano mang bawal, tiyak masama”! Kaya, heto na po ang ilang mga pamahiin at aking paliwanag na marahil na dahilan o pinagmulan:

Bawal o masama magpasalamat sa mga nakikiramay ang namatayan. Ito palagi sinasabi sa akin ng mga nakiramay sa amin noong mamatay aming mga magulang. Hindi ko talaga maintindihan.

Tanging sumasagi sa aking isipan ang kasabihan na ang “paglalamay lamang ang hindi pinangungumbida.” Alalaong-baga, sa amin sa probinsiya, masusukat ang husay at kabutihan ng sino man sa kanyang pagpanaw: kung maraming makipaglamay at makiramay, siya ay mabuti; kung kakaunti, marahil hindi siya ganoong kabuti. Kaya walang dapat ipagpasalamat sa mga nakiramay dahil binabalik lamang nila kabutihan ng namatay.

Ngunit nang pumanaw si Mommy noong Mayo, noon ko higit naintindihan ito di lamang mas matanda na ako kungdi dahil marami na akong pinakiramayan bilang pari. Ayaw ng mga panauhin sila ay pasalamatan dahil ang kanilang pakikiramay ay pagbabalik ng kabutihang ginawa di lamang ng pumanaw kungdi pati ng mga naulila tulad ko na pari.

*Larawan kuha ng ni G. Noli Yamsuan, Manila Cathedral, 2010.*

Palaging sinasabi ng mga nakikiramay maging ng mga paring dumalaw sa amin kung paano ako noong sila’y nagdadalamhati ay akin ding sinamahan sa pagdiriwang ng Banal na Misa o maski pagbabasbas lamang. Kinuwento ng marami sa kanila kung paanong di nila malimutan mga iyon, pati na rin nang dalawin ko at dasalan kanilang mahal sa buhay habang may karamdaman.

Kay tamis maalala na di nila kinalimutan pakikiramay ko noon. At wala nang higit pang tatamis itong aking naranasan pagkamatay ni Mommy, sumunod kanyang nakatatandang kapatid. Nalaman ng ilan kong dating parokyano at kusa din silang nagtungo sa lamay ng aking Tita. Nagulat mga pinsan ko nang sila ay magpakilala at ang sabi daw sa kanila, “naku, si Father pinuntahan lahat ng aming mga patay kaya kami narito ngayon.”

Hindi naman sa sinusuklian ating kabutihan kungdi patunay ito na hindi nalilimutan ng mga tao ating pakikiramay sa pagpanaw ng mahal nila sa buhay; dala-dala nila ito palagi at kinukuwento sa mga bata kung paanong dumamay mga tao sa kanilang pighati. Sakaling mayroong kaaway o kaalitan ang pumanaw, doon din nakikilala kabutihan ng sino man. Marami akong napansin mga kamag-anakan lumalambot ang kalooban kapag nagpunta at nakiramay nakaalitan ng kanilang pumanaw subalit, kung magmatigas yaong kaaway at ni hindi man lang sumilip sa lamay lalo na kung kababaryo, itaga mo sa bato, sasabihin ng mga kaanak sadyang masama iyan.

Kaya, bukod sa hindi sinasabi ang “salamat” sa lamayan, laging pakatandaan sa ating mga Filipino, ang pakikiramay ang isa sa mga pinakamagandang paraan ng pakikipag-kapwa tao dahil hanggang kamatayan, laan tayo makipag-ugnayan.

*Larawan kuha ng may-akda, Agosto 2024.*

Bawal o masama maghatid ng mga nakiramay. Nakakatawa po ito nguni’t tunay na tunay lalo sa aking karanasan. Hindi na dapat maghatid sa mga nakiramay ang namatayan dahil maraming maraming iba pang dumarating na panauhin at baka ikaw lang ang nakakakilala sa kanila.

Alam naman ninyo tayong mga Pinoy: sasakay na lang o nakasakay na nga sa kotse, hindi pa matapos ang mga kuwentuhan natin! Kaya kung maraming nakikiramay at isa isang ihahatid mga nagpapaalam, wala nang makapag-eestima sa mga dumarating na iba pa. Praktikal ang pamahiing ito.

*Larawan kuha ng may-akda, Sacred Heart Novitiate, Novaliches, QC, 20 Marso 2024.*

Bawal o masama magbaon ng pagkain at inumin mula sa lamay. Nakakatawa din ito. Ngunit gaya ng bawal na paghahatid sa mga nakikiramay, praktikal ang pamahiing bawal mag-uwi ng pagkain at inumin mula sa lamay.

Nang mamatay si Mommy noong Mayo, dalawamput-anim na taon na akong pari, matagal na ring nagsipagtrabaho mga kapatid ko at marami na ring kaklase at kaibigan mga anak nila. Sa dami ng aming mga nakilala, lahat dumarating para makiramay. Bagamat marami ang mayroong bigay ding pagkain at inumin sa kabila ng saganang handa naming pagkain na pina-caterer pa, may isang gabing halos kinapos aming handa kaya nagpabili pa ng lechon manok kapatid ko!

Kung bawat bisita ay mag-uuwi nga naman ng mamon o magsha-Sharon Cuneta ng lumpiang shanghai at iba pang ulam, mauubos ang pagkain at baka walang maihain sa mga darating iba pa lalo na kung hating gabi na. At iyan ang tunay na masama sa paguuwi ng pagkain at inumin mula sa patay: nauubusan mga maglalamay!

Dagdag kuwento: ayaw na ayaw iyan ng aking kasambahay noon na si “Manang” sa aming kumbento. Hindi niya kinakain mga “take home” sa akin at madalas, pinamimigay pa niya sa iba. Masama daw baka ako magkasakit. Pero, kapag kakaiba at masarap mga pagkaing uwi ko mula sa lamayan lalo ng mga rich at showbiz friends ko, okey lang sa kanyang kainin mga iyon! Ano nga ba masama? Wala maliban sa ating nabanggit na dahilan.

*Larawan kuha ng may-akda, Nagsasa Cove, San Antonio, Zambales, 19 Oktubre 2024.*

Bawal o masama maligo kapag mayroong patay. Siyempre! Puyat kasi tayo sa paglalamay kaya dapat magpahinga muna saka maligo. Iyon lang iyon.

Noong Hunyo, isang dating kasamahan kong DJ sa GMA7 namatay ang ina. Matapos akong magmisa at nang magpapaalam na, tinanong niya ako ng seryoso: talaga daw bang hindi pa siya puwedeng maligo?

Nakupo! Kaya pala kako tumutubo na yang balbas mo at nanglalagkit ka na! At ito ang dahilan sinabi ko sa kanya ukol sa pamahiing iyon. Maligo ka na wika ko at ang baho mo na!

*Larawan kuha ng may-akda, Anvaya Cove, Morong , Bataan, Abril 2024.*

Bawal o masama ang umuwi kaagad ng bahay galing sa patay. Ito ang popular na kaugaliang “pagpag” bago umuwi kasi kailangan daw iligaw iyong patay na baka sumunod. Ang totoo ay kailan lang naman ito naging laganap at napa-uso. Kawawang mga convenience store, naging tambayan ng mga nagpapagpag. At kaluluwa!

Hindi po ito totoo. Una, walang gumagalang kaluluwa. Kapag namatay ang isang tao, kaagad-agad hinahatulan kanyang kaluluwa kung ito ay pupunta ng langit o purgatoryo o impierno (ibang paksa ito na mainam pag-usapan sa ibang pagkakataon).

Heto naunawaan ko lamang nitong kamakailan habang dumarami ang namamatay kong mga kamag-anak at mga kaibigan. Dahil sa lamay na lang kami nagkikita-kita, itinutuloy namin ang kuwentuhan sa labas kasi naman, nakakahiyang ubusin pagkain at inumin sa lamayan.

At saka para mas masarap din ang kuwentuhan. Iyon sa aking pananaw ang tunay na dahilan kaya nauso ang pagpag. Sabi ng iba, iyon ay galing sa mga kapatid nating Chino na naniniwalang kailangang ipagpag mga negative vibes mula sa mga lamayan ng patay.

At kung tutuusin, ano nga ba ang mga negative vibes na ito? Balikan ang aral ng COVID-19 pandemic: mga mikrobyo at virus na maaring pagmulan ng pagkakasakit. Sa halip na magpagpag kayo ng kakain pa muli sa labas, mag-disinfect palagi pagdating ng bahay pagkagaling sa lamayan nang mapuksa mga kumakapit na mikrobyo.

*Larawan kuha ni Ka Ruben, stained glass sa Pambansang Dambana ng Birhen ng Fatima, Valenzuela City, 10 Oktubre 2024.*

Bawal o masamang maglibing tuwing araw ng Lunes. Ipagpaumanhin po ninyo mga naunang pari noong araw. Sila po nagpalaganap nitong “pamahiing” ito. Hindi naman talaga masama o bawa kasi kadalasan, Lunes ang araw ng libing ng mga yumaong pari pati kamag-anak namin.

Tanging dahilan ng pamahiing iyan ay pagod ang mga pari ng araw ng Linggo sa pagmimisa kaya, Lunes ang kanilang day-off. At pinakamabisang paraan upang matandaan ito ng mga tao, sabihing “masama” ang paglilibing ng Lunes na siyang unang araw ng trabaho.

*Larawan kuha ni G. Jay Javier, Hulyo 2024.*

Kaya po ako mula noon pa, ang day off ko ay Huwebes kasi Lunes ang pagpupulong naming mga pari!

Kayo ano pa alam ninyong pamahiin sa mga patay at lamay?

Hanapin ang praktikal na dahilan at higit sa lahat, igalang pa rin natin paniniwala ng ating mga kababayan kesa pagtawanan.

Tandaan, sa kamatayan palagi nagkakasukatan ng ating pagkakaibigan at pagsasamahan.

Ang pakikiramay ay tanda ng pakikibahagi sa pagluluksa at pighati ng namatayan.

At iyan ang pinakamainam na dahilan sa likod nitong mga pamahiin natin tuwing mayroong lamay at patay.

Friday I’m in love, Part 3

Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 29 October 2024

*Photo by author, entering the Nagsasa Cove in San Antonio, Zambales, 19 October 2024.*

I have always imagined God must be like Jewish director Steven Spielberg. According to an article I have read long ago, Spielberg would always hide sets of important scenes to capture the real emotions of his actors and actresses during shooting. One example was the Raiders of the Lost Ark series where Harrison Ford’s expressions were very natural.

And that exactly was how I felt God in Nagsasa Cove on that lovely weekend of October 19.

Nagsasa’s white beach is actually lahar from Mount Pinatubo’s 1990 eruption that also brought those lush Agojo trees.

From the sea to the cove, I was already so enchanted, even enthralled with the scenery, the sparkling waters with its gentle breeze blowing, so clean and crisp. A taste of paradise.

After a few sips of wine in the warm waters of Nagsasa Cove, I ventured inland. Lo and behold! I immediately went back to our boat to get my cellphone as I told my companions how lovely is the river at the back. That was when Sir Benet Galang, owner of Agojo Beach, willingly joined to guide us deeper inland.

According to Sir Benet, some trekkers who have gone there told him the scene was like New Zealand which he could not verify because he has not been down there yet. One thing for sure, though, he has not seen any hobbits dwelling there except a few gentle Aetas in a settlement area who often guide hikers up the Pundaquit Mountain range.

I forgot to bring my slippers but what the heck! I have always loved walking on earth barefoot, so close to nature, so close with God, reminding me of the burning bush event of Moses when told to take off his sandals because he was on a sacred ground.

That’s Nagsasa Cove, a sacred ground.

The river is very stony but very clear. Water is warm on top but as you dip, it gets cold. Parang beer!

One realizes upon coming here is the great gift God has given our country, a gift so precious that we ought to take care. From here, one may hike to the mountain in about four hours with Aetas as guides.

A lot of greenery… and trees.

*A young Agojo tree which is a variety of pine trees.*

So many sights to behold, things one will never see in the city nor provinces these days.

I was fascinated with the mushrooms growing on this stump of an Agojo tree…

Again, I prayed this area would be spared of roads and big businesses to keep its beauty and charm intact. Residents are very organized, requiring vendors from outside to ensure they take back their waste and litter. During summer, each vendor of any goods is asked to fill a sack of litter to ensure the surroundings are well maintained.

If you are a nature lover, planning to have an entirely “me time”, I strongly recommend Nagsasa Cove.

No problem with food and accommodations there from simple tents to ones like this and air conditioned kubo…

Just come as you are and surely you shall come home filled with good memories and sights. Most of all, fulfilled in yourself.

Piso na lang, nasa langit ka na! Promise. See yah!

*All photos and videos taken by author using iPhone12.
*Check FB page of Agojo Beach for details.

Friday I’m in Love, Part 2

Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 25 October 2024

*From left after me is Gic (Eric’s wife), her brother Allan with wife Mariel, Eric our host and Captain, and his sister Dra. Mayet.*

After a sumptuous dinner and restful night that lovely Friday last week in Binictican Homes, we rose early the following morning, had a light breakfast and headed for Vasco’s port in Subic to await my kinakapatid Eric with his speedboat.

It was my first boat ride.

*At the dockyard of Vasco’s Hotel in Subic.*

Of course… I was scared because I do not swim; but, I have always loved the sea and it was a total bliss right after we have left port.

Immediately I felt an adrenaline rush within as we throttled our way into the open sea with Christopher Cross singing “Ride Like the Wind” in my head that felt being treated with a “natural” Japanese hair spa courtesy of the strong winds.

The ride and the sights were so relaxing.

The vast expanse of the sea was very calming and soothing, cleansing me of all negativities in my body, heart, and soul. Can’t contain my joy at that time as I felt all the free radicals in my system vanished.

It was so heavenly, so close with God and with nature. Life is so beautiful indeed that I kept thanking God for His gifts of life, of nature, and most especially, of good friends, so kind and loving.

The sea is so unique not only with the infinite horizon but most especially it is the only place on Earth where we do not leave any marks as in footprints. How I love those burst of waves and bubbles like saying goodbye to the past, looking forward to new day, new sights, new land.

After about 45 minutes from Subic, we reached Nagsasa Cove which is part of San Antonio, Zambales.

There are four other coves in the area: Agnain, Anawangin, Silanguin, and Talisayen. All are accessible only by boat. We hope and pray they remain that way, far from big businesses that always destroy nature.

All coves are self sustaining with abundant supply of mountain spring water, so much food on land and the sea so blessed with abundant fish. In fact, on our way home at about 3:30 PM, we chanced upon some fishermen and bought some of their catch!

Now I experienced first-hand Eric’s famed skill in fishing… with his magic bait, his wallet!

Nagsasa Cove is so lovely. And nakaka-in love really. Especially for those who want to touch base with Mother Nature, with one’s self. And with God very much present there.

Nagsasa Cove is a very “young” beach naturally reclaimed by Mount Pinatubo’s lahar flows in 1991.

According to our friend Mr. Benet Galang who owns Agojo Resort there, the actual beach was about 500 meters to the back that was actually rocky. Following Mount Pinatubo’s eruption in 1991, the beach was reclaimed by lahar (that’s why it is a white beach) along with its endemic tree called agojo.

I have been coming to Anvaya Cove the past three years courtesy also of Eric and another friend. I have come to love it that have brought my family too last summer. I felt at that time it was the best, even better than Boracay.

But now, my heart is already aching for Nagsasa Cove. So lovely, so peaceful. Perfect for “me time”.

*The part of Nagsasa Cove for snorkeling.*

Imagine watching the sunset here.

Imagine how it would look like when the glowing sun kisses the sea as it sets and at midnight or before dawn, the moon and the stars hugging the cove beneath them?

Whoa…!

More stories and photos as we explored the river and the mountains at the back of this paradise called Nagsasa Cove.

*All photos and videos by the author using iPhone 12. For those interested to visit Nagsasa Cove and Beach, check Agojo Beach Resort at Facebook. Very kind owner, Mr. Benet Galang, a true outdoorsman and nature lover.

The teacher is the lesson

Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 24 October 2024

*Photo by *Maria Tan, ABS-CBN News*, 27 July 2024.*

Classes are still suspended due to severe tropical storm Kristine. While scrolling through Facebook, I chanced upon a funny post supposed to be the cry of many employees. And teachers as well:

"We are trained to work
under pressure but,
please, not in low pressure."

As we come to close October dedicated worldwide as “Teachers’ Month”, my thoughts are into this most noble profession of teaching during these two days of the storm, of how blessed I am to have been taught by selfless teachers and mentors now also a teacher myself being assigned 26 years ago in a school, now as a chaplain in the university.

I never dreamt of becoming a teacher for I am not the studious type – always the certified crammer, forever classified as “under-achiever” from elementary to graduate school. The only subjects I really loved were literature, social studies, and history.

But what a tremendous blessing from God my being assigned in a school and now a university, of meeting and working with teachers who have taught me so many valuable lessons in life and my ministry. Many of them have become some of my truest friends. Most of all, the academe opened my eyes to the wonderful ministry of teaching, of forming young people, of finding Jesus, bringing Jesus in the classroom.

*Photo from wikipediacommons.org of Christ’s washing of feet of Apostles at Monreale Cathedral in Palermo, Italy*.

Every time I give talks and recollections/retreats to teachers, I first remind them of the fact that when Jesus Christ came to the world more than 2000 years ago, He chose to be a teacher.

Jesus was never born to the class of priests and scholars of the scriptures nor any other professions like the physicians and accountants of His time except for a while, He worked with His foster-father St. Joseph as a carpenter. This alone is every teacher’s primary source of pride and honor in being called by Jesus to teach like Him.

So when he had washed their feet and put his garments back on and reclined at the table again, he said to them, “Do you realize what I have done for you? You call me ‘teacher’ and ‘master,’ and rightly so, for indeed I am. If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet. I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do” (John 13:12-15).

Unlike the teachers of His time, Jesus as a teacher was not for “hire” who got paid for His teachings. Jesus taught not for money but in fulfillment of His mission. He taught more than lessons in life but gave His very life to others.

And that is where the nobility of the teaching profession lies.

The best teachers are the ones who teach life by giving and sharing their very lives like Jesus Christ, our Good and Model Teacher. Teaching is both a mission and a vocation, a call. That is why there can never be a “pay” or “compensation” enough for teachers because they share life. What they teach cannot be quantified nor measured like in number of sales or length of roads built. Like Jesus, teachers give everything, never apiece. When a teacher repeats or elaborates a lesson, he/she cannot charge it as overtime or get an extra pay for their extra efforts in guiding students.

*Jesus teaching his disciples, a painting by James Tissot from commons.wikimedia.org.*

The true reward of every teacher is to find one’s students so fruitful in life! The more fruitful and successful they are, the more rewarding for us teachers. Now I know the feeling of parents having a son growing into a fine gentleman or a daughter blooming into a fine lady and woman.

For me, I feel so proud when I learn my students reaching great heights in life and in their careers like reading their works published here and abroad, even speaking other languages as professors and lecturers, diplomats, OFW’s and responsible parents raising great children with hobbies so varied making me wish I could be young again to join them. Our greatest joy as teachers is when our students are most joyful. They do not have to be rich and famous. Basta joyful with a loving wife or husband, lovely kids, fruitful life.

During the fourth century in Carthage, a Deacon and catechist named Deogratias asked St. Augustine for some tips on teaching catechumens or people being prepared for Baptism.

A very talented teacher himself, St. Augustine wrote at length the methods and many other tips of teaching to Deogratias that these were compiled into a book now a Christian classic called “De Catechizandis de Rudibus” (On Instructing Beginners in Faith).

St. Augustine gave practical tips like first identifying the kind of audience or students so that the catechist and teacher may adjust his/her approach in teaching. He then told Deogratias to always narrate stories from the Bible, especially the creation, the lives of the great men and women in the Old Testament, and most of all, the many gospel scenes of Jesus Christ’s own teachings and parables.

At the end of the very long book of instructions, St. Augustine reminded Deogratias that the “catechist/teacher is always the lesson himself/herself.”

So true and beautiful!

The teacher is the lesson himself/herself because no book nor experiment nor equation will suffice to open the mind and heart of any student when the very person of the teacher is closed or worst, incongruent with wisdom and knowledge, virtues and life.

A true teacher is a witness of Jesus Christ, of how the Lord had transformed him/her into a better person now teaching others to grow and mature in life. A teacher is one who walks the talks, exactly what St. Pope Paul VI wrote in 1975, “Modern man listens more willingly to witnesses than to teachers, and if he does listen to teachers, it is because they are witnesses” (Evangelii Nuntiandi #41).

A true teacher as a lesson himself/herself is one who does not complicate but simplifies life, one who knows when to stop and be contented with what we have.

A true teacher is one who opens the minds and hearts of students to have that drive and passion to learn and find not just answer to questions but also to explore possibilities of finding meaning in life amid the many mysteries and unsolved problems that surround us.

A true teacher is one who does not compete with his/her students but journeys with them as companion, someone who breaks “bread” – life – with them.

A true teacher is one who sets students free from their many fears in life, showing them courage to tackle problems and situations, one who is not afraid to cry when sad and hurt, but always ready to smile and laugh with life’s simple joys and pleasures or kababawan.

A true teacher is one who shows students the realities of life such as failures and mistakes not as obstacles but launching pads for new lessons in life.

The teacher as the lesson himself/herself is one who brings out the giftedness of every student as a beautiful lesson in themselves too for others to learn.

The teacher as a lesson himself/herself need not be perfect, does not need to know an answer to all questions nor everything but someone who celebrates life, values life as a gift from God meant to be shared with others.

Think of your favorite teacher or unforgettable teacher. Most likely, she or he is the one who shares life with you. Thank a teacher today in sharing us, giving us his/her life especially during storms, when we are under low pressure areas. God bless all the teachers!

Friday I’m in love with you…

Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 22 October 2024

Video by author using iPhone, 18 October 2024 near Floridablanca Exit, SCTEX bound to Subic.

Please, do not report me to the SCTEX Mobile Patrol. Promise… I won’t do this again, taking a video of sunset while driving. Blame “The Cure” playing on my playlist Friday I’m In Love…

That was last Friday as I drove – alone, as usual of course, going to a much-needed rest and mental health break at Subic. It was actually long-delayed vacation from repeated invitations over ten years from my kinakapatid Leah and Eric.

We planned it last September during a dinner in Makati after I had promised to visit my Ninang Lyn, Leah and Eric’s mom who was also grieving for her eldest we called Koyang Dindo who died in January; she felt too my grief in losing my mom later in May. I promised to visit her after my hospitalization in August when Leah and Eric learned it that they both offered for us to have dinner instead to “lend” me their mom.

How can I say no when Ninang Lyn told me to join Leah and Eric in their Subic homes after saying, “ako na mommy mo ngayon”?

At Makati Shangrila Hotel, September 2024.
At Binictican home of Eric and Gic, 18-10-2024
Appetizing appetizers…
then salad, sirloin, prime rib and rice in steak’s drippings…
…and more wine.Cheers!

And whoa! What a Friday it was, truly a TGIF as I broke all rules not only in driving but also in eating and drinking! It was a wonderful evening of stories with great food and wine. Most of all, of love from true friends over 50 years!

Ninang Lyn’s husband, the late Atty. Fernando Ma. Alberto was a friend of my late dad. Unlike my siblings and friends, I only had just one pair of Ninong and Ninang in my baptism. Both have blessed me for being truly my “godparents”.

When my father passed away in 2000, it was Ninong Ding who helped me made a major decision in 2005, of whether I should stay or move to Canada to serve there instead. He told me to greatly consider the many experiences I have had in media and life that can greatly help more people here than abroad. True enough after six months in a parish in Toronto, I realized his wisdom, the great need of our countrymen mostly poor needing the love and care of pastors than the rich, ageing Catholics of Canada.

*With Dindo aka Nando Alberto during our roadtrip in Rizal in January 2021, listening only to Steely Dan the whole day!*

When Dindo’s condition worsened late last year, I got to see my Ninang more often along with her other children so united in those critical moments: Leah, Doc Mayette, Eric, Ricky and Toby with Joy sometimes joining us on Facebook live from California.

After Dindo died early this year, my mom died too in May. The Albertos were there coming all the way to Bulacan. And have remained until now.

What I like most with them is how they have never asked how I am doing because they knew so well what I am going through. Maybe that’s the gift and grace of over 50 years of friendship. They simply make themselves present, tenderly inviting me to go out and chillax. They so remind me of this passage from a Canadian author and poet who wrote in one of her books:

I overheard a conversation the other day.
He said, "But if you don't let people know
you are lost, how can they help you?"
She said, "Because the help I need is found
in the eyes of someone who sees I am lost.
Who stops to notice I have been gone, 
or my pace has slowed or my smile is forced.
If they can see those things, then they will know
that I need caring, not help."
- Nausicaa Twila

Lately, so many friends including their siblings were texting me, inviting me out for lunch or coffee, simply making me feel of their care as I go through this grieving phase. So glad to have them. And so blessed in giving me a glimpse of Jesus Christ’s loving presence in them, teaching me firsthand about love and care.

Here is another video clip I did last Friday but this time I stopped by the roadside at SCTEX near Floridablanca exit on the way to Subic. See you again this Friday for the second part of our Subic adventure.

Video by author using iPhone, 18 October 2024 with natural sound from my car stereo playing The Cure “In Between Days.”

The widow of Nain, all the other widows & women among us are a Good News

Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 17 September 2024

*“Christ and the Widow of Nain” by Paolo Caliari (Veronese)(1528-1588). Oil on canvas. 97.7 x 163.8cm.); Photo © Christie’s Images via bridgemanimages.com.*

I have been searching the internet since last night of images of the widow of Nain whose only son was raised to life by Jesus in today’s gospel. After reading and praying over this scene found only in Luke’s gospel, it struck me differently last night, touching something so deep within me unlike before that I wanted to see how artists portrayed her.

Unfortunately despite the many paintings based on this story by Luke, only a few artists took time to paint with focus and emphasis on the widow of Nain. Despite Luke’s detail in saying that Jesus was moved with pity with her than with the young dead son, artists seemed to have looked more into the whole scene than the persons involved.

Jesus journeyed to a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd accompanied him. As he drew near to the gate of the city, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. A large crowd from the city was with her. When the Lord saw her, he was moved with pity for her and said to her, “Do not weep” (Luke 7:11-13).

*“Miracle at Nain” by Mario Minniti (1620)* from https://kathrynwarmstrong.wordpress.com/tag/paintings-concerning-the-widow-of-nain/

What a sorrowful sight it must have been with the widow of Nain burying her only child and son after losing her husband because she had practically lost everything in life!

The widow of Nain could have been a most wonderful subject for any painter or artist as she had melted the heart of Jesus who was prompted to raise to life her dead young son. In fact, this was the only third time Jesus had raised the dead to life in all four gospel accounts as He felt the enormous loss of the widow of Nain which remains so true to every widow these days.

In this brief and lovely story, Jesus reminds us of the special care we must have for widows and widowers who have lost everything in life while at the same time bares to us too the more disheartening aspect about death, of losing a beloved. Especially when it concerns a mother.

The most striking truth I have realized until now since my mother died in May is how she meant everything to me and my siblings that I always say, “iisa lang siyang nawala sa amin pero lahat nawala.”

That’s the pain I feel most hurting inside me. I really could not picture our house without her every morning sweeping its front or watering her orchids or combing her dog. More painful was looking inside our home now so empty without her as I imagined those days she used to feed her aquarium fish named “pitimini” and “fetunia” and other flowers I did not know at all or simply bantering with her myna bird. Whenever I would come home, I still could not look long into her room now occupied by my brother because she’s all I see and feel inside.

The story of Jesus being moved with pity at the widow of Nain proclaims how every woman is a gospel herself, especially mothers who from the very start a part of us. See how the author of Genesis rightly narrated when God decided to create the woman, He said “Let us create a suitable partner for him” (2:18).

Every woman is a part-ner of every man, especially mothers. Our umbilical cords are never cut off from our mom even after birth for our link with her continues even long after she – or us – is gone.

That’s because every woman is everything for each one of us as the Bee Gees sang it so well in one of the scenes in Saturday Night Fever, “more than a woman to me” because

Here in your arms I found my paradise
My only chance for happiness
And if I lose you now, I think I would die
Oh, say you'll always be my baby, we can make it shine
We can take forever, just a minute at a time

More than a woman
More than a woman to me...

During our Mass this morning, I chose to celebrate the Memorial of St. Hildegard von Bingen, a German Benedictine nun who lived over 1000 years ago. She was a mystic and a prolific writer, thinker and spiritual master who was beatified in 1326 but was only canonized in 2012 by Pope Benedict XVI who declared her a Doctor of the Church.

Like the other German woman saint, Teresa Benedicta of the Cross or Edith Stein, St. Hildegard’s writings are so deeply true but tenderly expressed that one could feel the woman touch of God. One of her quotes I used in reflecting on the widow of Nain says, “The mystery of God hugs you in its all-encompassing mystery.”

That’s what mothers do best, they hug us with God’s mystery as they themselves are a mystery to us that John Lennon rightly called woman as “the other half of the sky”.

Make a widow, a mother smile today for that would surely go a long, long way to heaven. God bless all the women of the world!

Crossings & the Cross

Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 03 July 2024

*Photo from The Valenzuela Times, 02 July 2024.*

Honestly… how did you react to this photo published yesterday afternoon after that flash flood at McArthur Highway in Valenzuela City? Do you find it funny? Did you hit the LOL emoticon? Why?

Am I that old and conservative, or prudish, or, is it merely a simple case of generation gap that I felt sad and surprised at how almost everyone in social media last night laughed at this photo? At least, some were sincere enough to admit being jealous as they exclaimed “sanaol” but, why all the laughter?

It is better expressed in our Filipino language – pinagtawanan (laughed at) which is a world apart from nakatutuwa (joyful sight).

What is so funny if a man would carry his girlfriend on his back for her not to get wet or soaked in the flood?

So gentlemanly in fact, hindi ba? Should we not be glad that there are still knights in shining armor these days?

Others simply described it as OA or “overacting”. Maybe…

The photo is a modern gospel, a good news in this age when chivalry is said to be dead. It is so much similar with last Sunday’s gospel that said “Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side” (Mk. 5:21), after they went through a turbulent squall crossing the Lake of Galilee the other week. What a beautiful story last Sunday of Jesus crossing again and again not only the treacherous lake but so often crossed the streets and valleys and mountains to reach out to those sick and lost and even dead to bring them all to the side of grace and life (https://lordmychef.com/2024/06/29/jesus-crossed-seas-streets-to-lead-us-to-the-side-of-life-again-again/).

I love that word “cross” from which came crossing; the former if spelled with a capital C refers to the Cross of Jesus Christ that also means our daily sufferings and difficulties in life we have to accept and embrace while the former refers to the street intersection where pedestrians cross.

Every day Jesus comes to help us cross the streets of this life filled with many pains and sufferings, trials and hardships. Jesus help us cross these busy and stressful streets of daily life for us to get to the side of life and fullness through those willing to suffer and sacrifice like this student in the photo.

How sad that when someone is willing to sacrifice for a loved one, when someone is willing to help others cross the street, whether it is flooded or not that people nowadays laugh at them, calling them OA.

We are not judging anyone.

Maybe we just have to reassess ourselves daily especially in our overexposure to social media and its gadgets that have alienated us from realities of life and from being human, being a person who is a subject to be loved and cherished than object to be possessed and laughed at.

How sad that with too much media, we no longer have that feel and experience of realities.

Go to any wedding or whatever kind of ceremony and parade to see how people are foolishly glued to their camera screens recording the events without experiencing the moment at all!

That gentleman carrying his girlfriend on his back is a good news for us today that Christ is still with us in this modern age. Unfortunately, it seems that like what happened 2000 years ago, there are still some who still want Him crucified for being good and kind, even OA, with others. Have a blessed day. We’d like to hear from you too… thank you!

Birthday & funeral

Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 20 June 2024

As a priest for 26 years, I have been a frequent visitor to cemeteries to bless parishioners, friends and relatives who have died. It was more of duties and ministry for me as a priest except for some who were dear to me.

But, when mommy passed away last month, visiting the cemetery has become something more personal with much meaning deep within, now both our parents are gone. I did not feel it when daddy died 24 years ago on mommy’s birthday. Perhaps it was partly because of the fact I had to come and visit their graves so often these past days: for the wake and burial of mommy from May 7-11, then her 40th day June 15, then again on the 17th for her 85th birthday and dad’s 24th death anniversary. Of course, we are coming back July 26 for dad’s 92nd birthday.

So, definitely I shall be coming there more often in the years to come as a son, secondary only as a priest.

Now it has become clearer to us siblings why dad died on mom’s birthday 24 years ago: so that it is more economical – matipid – for us to come and visit their gravesites. Isang puntahan na lang! Birthday at kamatayan. How I really wish and pray daily our parents are already reunited finally in eternity to enjoy each other’s company again before God.

*Our parents, always together especially during meals.*

My parents were not perfect couple. They quarreled, had misunderstandings like most husband and wife. But they strived so hard in loving each other despite their imperfections along with ours their children. This they practiced so well on the dining table, always eating together.

From my earliest memory until I became a priest, they have always taken their meals together. Most often, it was my dad who would always wait for my mom to be back home and be told by her personally that she had eaten somewhere in a party. That’s the only time he would really eat while my mom sat beside him, serving him while telling him stories where she had gone with her friends. Many times we would tease mommy whenever friends would pick her up to an event or socials without dad. “Maghihintay na naman ang daddy sa inyo, hindi kakain yun.” But she would tell us often the glaring truth about my dad, “ang daddy ninyo walang sinasabi sa aking ganyan; basta alam niya aalis ako. Sabayan ninyo sa pagkain.”

*Our parents during their honeymoon in 1964.*

Of course, dad would wait for her and most often, he was the one serving us children during meal until his retirement!

When I was in the seminary until I became a priest, every time I would come home to visit them, dad would always ask me if I had eaten. Even if I told him I have had lunch or merienda, he would still get food and serve them on the table. What can I do, especially if he cooked mechado or pochero that Sunday and had kept some leftovers in the fridge? I would always eat everything para daw maubos na ang mga natira at mahugasan na ang mangkok. That’s how I learned that eating is also an apostoalte for us priests…

When daddy died suddenly of a heart attack before dawn on mommy’s birthday on June 17, 2000, I kept asking him why he died on that date. Every Sunday after my Masses, I would go to the cemetery and ask him that question again and again. “Dad, there are 365 days in a year… why June 17?”

My mom was inconsolable during daddy’s wake until his first death anniversary. Part of her really died with daddy’s demise. Most like why she had a stroke six years later.

*Mommy on her wedding day, 26 April 1964.*

They have always been together in almost everything. It was dad who would wake up ahead of mom to prepare breakfast, especially coffee. And only him knows so well when my mom is ready to sip her hot coffee he had prepared; that’s the time he would go upstairs to tell her breakfast was ready.

Whenever we have visitors at home especially during fiestas and holidays, they were all praises with our food. Naturally, they praised mommy, thinking mothers cooked best. But not in our home. And the funny thing was, both of them would fall silent when our food were praised: mom would never say it was dad who cooked nor claim the accolades while dad would never speak a word about it. That’s when we the children would tell our guests our dad was the chef, adding our mom was just for sigang, paksiw and monggo. That is why during our first Christmas without dad, when I went to visit mommy at the eve to give my gifts, I saw her crying while cooking, telling me how she missed dad who would do all the cooking. From then on, I have found the best excuse why we must just order food during family gatherings at home – not only to spare mommy of the troubles cooking but to have really delicious food!

*Our family after visiting our parents last June 17 on a vacation together.*

My dad finally answered my question a few months after his death why he died on mommy’s birthday. It happened in the most strange way because I am more closer to my dad than to mommy with whom I always had a lot of misunderstandings due to her always in opposition with my plans, even my entering the seminary to become a priest.

One time we had some tampuhan blues that I decided not to come home thrice on Sundays. On the fourth Sunday after my mass as I visited daddy’s gravesite, I asked him again my question. As usual, no reply but in some moments of silence, I felt him telling me in my heart, “Nick, I died on your mommy’s birthday so that you would love her much like I have loved her.”

Suddenly, I realized my sins against her, of how I have showed her my anger until tears rolled down my cheeks.

After saying my prayers and blessing his gravesite, I headed home to visit mommy. From then on, I have tried my very best to be like dad with my mom by being more loving, more caring, more understanding and on many occasions, playing deaf to what she said.

*Like our parents, we are always together in meals.*

People say we must visit three places once in a while, namely, hospital, prison, and cemetery. Hospital so that we may realize that there is nothing more beautiful than health; in the prison for us to see that freedom is most precious; and cemetery that life is worth nothing because the ground we walk today will be our roof tomorrow.

It is the love we have for each other that gives meaning to these places that make them worth visiting. As a priest and most of all, as a son, a brother, and a friend I have realized these so true. Don’t wait for death to come. Or birthdays. Sometimes, they happen simultaneously. Just keep loving.

Now they are both gone and hopefully together in eternity, every time I bless their gravesite, I feel them telling me the same thing – love my siblings the way they loved us. Thank you for taking time to read this piece, hope all’s well with you and your loved ones.

"No one has ever seen God.
Yet, if we love one another,
God remains in us,
and his love is brought to perfection
in us" (1 John 4:12).
Amen.