Seeking divine grace

On this day in 1957 my parents said yes to marriage, to be there for each other until death effects a parting. Much as my father desired to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary together, he succumbed to cancer in August 2003. 

While their life together had its moments, Daddy was a real terror at times, it was lovely watching them together, their “coupleness”. After 40 odd years of marriage, they still had real conversations with each other, they hung out together and they had a gentle affection for each other. They had grown into each other in a way I would like to do with P. Two separate individuals with distinct personalities and likes who could come together and blend harmoniously in the commons of marital love.

I was joking with a friend that P and I would never celebrate 50 years of marriage, hence I made the most of our 50 months together, but in truth, the brevity of our time together has so much packed in it that the quantitative seems unimportant. I have grown accustomed to the rhythms of our life together and I (don’t know about him) simply cannot imagine life being any other way. Grateful for the richness I have experienced and I pray never to take it for granted, ever.

Marriages don’t seem to be as robust as marriages of my parents’ generation. There will always be periods where relationships are turbulent and difficult. And yet such times are part and parcel of every marriage. I must admit I have thought my mother foolish in the past for putting up with so much abuse from my father. I was foolishly too modern in my thinking looking only for quick fixes and espousing disposable relationships. Despite their difficulties and struggles, there was also much beauty and joy in their relationship, especially in latter years. The bad did become good because divorce was not an option and they made it work. Short of having made a bad choice - here I would term a bad choice as someone who was dishonest, unethical, violent, abusive or with sociopathic tendencies, someone who leads you to sin - we should not give up on marriage so easily, there is always a way.

This is where supernatural grace comes in for marriages to not only survive but thrive. A supernatural grace that can only flow from a couple’s individual and collective faith: a belief in the institution of marriage and their own marriage, as well as a belief in God’s mercy and forgiveness that transforms the individual such that they can surmount past hurts, even bad childhoods, in order to bring healing and growth into their relationship as a couple. 

In my bathroom I have a papal apostolic blessing that blesses our marriage and it reads: that their love consecrated at the altar will be blessed each day by divine graces. I place it where I can see it and read it not because I believe this piece of paper holds any special powers, but that it serves as a timely reminder to me: divine graces must be sought before they can be attained and experienced fully. 

We seek divine grace when we seek the better of the other. This all-encompassing better of the other demands that I work out all my own baggage of fears, insecurities, bad scripts, unhealthy patterns of behaviour, selfish desires and egoistic narcissism before I present myself at the table of marriage. I need to better myself every day before I can work on the goal of wanting the better of my spouse.

At the table of marriage I must present the best of who I am, together with a listening and forgiving heart, an empathetic and gentle tongue, a sensitive and gracious spirit, a grateful, patient, good-humoured demeanour even when I feel least like it. Did I mention perseverance is key for I also need to actively seek the better of my spouse every day and evermore. 

Whatever hurts I experience I leave at the feet of the Lord, always begging the Lord for wisdom to know how I should navigate in every circumstance, especially when I feel I am not heard, or when I am taken for granted. Oftentimes I do not even have to address the situation for somehow prayer helps me resolve it by either giving me a new perspective through insight, or giving him one. Prayer allows me to go outside of myself and expand my capacity to love in order that I can give generously until it hurts, and then give some more. As Mother Teresa put it: I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.

I have a friend who thinks I am crazy to do what I do, who thinks I am a door mat and foolish. What I have found is the more you give in love, the more you receive, bearing in mind that there is no expectation in the first place of what comes back to you. Love has to be unconditional. 

Marriage is a constant ebb and flow of give and take, it requires openness of heart and the ability to change when change is what brings about harmony. I can only thank God that He has endowed both P and I with this pragmatism to do what is necessary to make our marriage work. Knowing exactly what to do doesn’t make it any easier to execute, great sacrifice may be demanded at times, but when one gives freely, even greater rewards come, as I have found. So don’t be afraid to give generously. Don’t be stingy. 

I thank my parents for being such great role models of what to do and what not to do as spouses. While Daddy is no longer with us, I am sure he is still watching out for Mummy and the four of us. Remembering Daddy and Mummy today who said yes to a life together and to bringing me into being, along with my brothers. Divine grace helped my parents remain true to each other to the end as I hope and pray it helps me and P today and in the coming years.

Love Triumphantly

When someone you have loved your entire life leaves, she or he leaves behind a huge hole in your life that nothing can ever fill. More so when your relationship has been filled with light, goodness, love and laughter. Mine with E was such a relationship. Our relationship was layered with all the wonderful things the Spirit endowed with generous abundance: faith, hope, unconditional love, wisdom, joy, gentleness, truth, peace, empathy, freedom and compassion. There was, still is, a purity in our love for each other, a truly rare gift from God. 

While my grief runs deep, I know I cannot remain stuck in it. For to do so would not honour the love we had for each other and especially the love we have for our Creator. In the book of Wisdom, chapter 14 cautions against a father’s grief that leads to honouring the image of a dead child as god. Thus, we must be careful not to divinize loved ones we have lost, and so fall into a form of idolatry. 

The best way I can remember E and continue to honour our relationship is not to dwell on times past, precious as they were, but to do whatever she would do in any given situation in my present and future times. It is an extremely tall order for she was so much more kinder, wiser, and compassionate than I am, but if I do whatever the Lord tells me, I will get there, just as E did, she who always strove to do the will of God in her life. She, of course, took it to a level not many of us can achieve, but that doesn’t mean that I will not die trying. 

Having just completed the books of Maccabees, I am inspired by the lessons of zeal and faith contained within, and how I can draw on the Maccabean lessons in dealing with my grief. 

The Catechism of the Catholic Church talks about the three states of the Church that exist. There is, first, people like you and me, disciples of Christ who are pilgrims on earth. We are the Church Militant, soldiers of Christ who constantly do battle with our own preponderance to sin, as well as with the spiritual presence of evil in the world around us. What we do in our daily lives to shine the light of Christ that edifies ourselves and others is vital. 

As a member of the Church Militant, I continue to love E by being the person she has taught me to be, a stalwart warrior of Christ: to be like Judas Maccabeus, who fully relied on God’s power to do battle even when the odds were incredibly high; to always give thanks and praise to God in a celebratory and public manner, never forgetting the one who made all things possible; and to help the souls of the dead by offering prayer and masses.

Then there is the state of purification the recently dead soldiers of Christ go through known as the Church Penitent, also known as Church Suffering or Church Expectant. This is more commonly known as purgatory among Catholics and it is where our earthly sins and attachments are cleansed before the joys of heaven can be fully embraced. The only way those in purgatory can be cleansed properly and return fully to the Lord is through the prayers of the living - that’s where you and I come in. 

The focus of my prayer life has transformed in the last 18 months to include those in purgatory in a more intentional way. As Father Bobby put it, we are put here on earth to save souls, not just the souls of those who are still with us, but also the souls of those who cannot pray for themselves, those in purgatory. 

Since E’s passing, I have been praying fervently for her swift return to the Father’s embrace. Now while she herself cannot pray for this to happen, she can still pray for us who are left behind. Hence I have been seeking her intercession, and I know that whether she is still Church Penitent or is now part of Church Triumphant, her prayers are equally efficacious.

Finally there is Church Triumphant, where those who have returned to the Father’s embrace “are in glory, contemplating ‘in full light, God himself triune and one, exactly as he is'” (CCC 954). These are our saints, whether they are officially recognized or not. These are the ones, including our departed loved ones who, in enduring faith, ran the good race, and are now crowned with glory in heaven. 

I believe that E is already a saint, or soon to be, and our relationship has taken on a mystical bonding, a spiritual unity that is beyond human understanding, in the communion of saints. When on earth she prayed for my return to Jesus and her prayers bore fruit. Now in heaven I am sure she is still praying for me and for many others so that we can all eventually be together, Church Triumphant, just as the Creator desired from the very beginning. In the book of Maccabees, the prayers of the saints, the prophets, helped Judas Maccabeus win impossible battles. E will be my Onias and my Jeremiah, and will do likewise. What an incredible blessing! I hope to return to Jesus as she did, in triumphant love.

Firstfruits of 50

P and I just celebrated our 50th month-versary - a milestone in our life together. It was nice that we got to celebrate with mass as we usually try to do, with gratitude and in thanksgiving. It was the first day of the Lunar New Year as well so after mass we spent the day celebrating with family, then we went home for a much needed siesta, followed by a walk, then dinner. There was even time to play with the grandkids before just chilling before the telly like an old married couple.  

There is such grace in the daily rituals of life such as exercising together (although we don’t do that often enough), eating together as a family, sharing life and laughter. It is little pleasures that come from the simple things, and not the grand gestures, that mark the marriage with quiet joy, pleasures often overlooked and taken for granted if we do not stop to acknowledge them and offer them up with thanksgiving back to the Father who first bestowed them. 

When I really look at P, I see who he is and why I fell in love with him, and I continue to love him just a little bit more for everything that he is, the total package. Sure, there are things about him that rub me the wrong way and irritate me, as I am sure I do him. However, God has given us the wisdom and charity to know what we should hold on to and what to discard in order that we can build a marriage that is founded on mutual respect, love and honour. We are far from perfect as individuals but because we decide to live for Christ and all that He stands for, we are able to forgo our egos, our need to be right, and even the instances when we are actually right and the other is wrong. 

So what have the 50 months of marriage stood for? It has been a time of getting to know each other better, of deeper bonding, of learning to love the other in a multitude of ways that were new and challenging in the initial stages, but ultimately proved enriching, delightful even, in repetition. It has been a time of testing and endurance, of great stretching, which has led to growth and a fruiting unimagined. I may not have enjoyed every moment, but I would not exchange a single milligram of pain for it is only in the bitter that sweetness is truly appreciated and savoured fully. 

The number 50 in the Bible signifies the coming of the Holy Spirit, Pentecost or the Feast of Weeks also known as the Feast of Firstfruits. P and I lay at the Lord’s feet the firststfruits of our marriage, all the choice blessings of marriage we have experienced. In thanksgiving, we honour Him for bringing us together in holy matrimony, and for journeying with us all these months. His Spirit is certainly what drives us to always desire and seek the good of the other even at great personal sacrifice. 

May we continue to walk in His ways and see His face when we chance upon or gaze fondly at the other’s visage. 

Dreaming to let go

I dreamt of E last night. We were chatting and she was doing what she did best, challenging me to live out my vocation to the fullest by using what gifts I have been given; hence this post. She was telling me to write. I have not been open to dreaming about E until yesterday for I felt, somehow, that if I dreamt of her, it would mean her passing was final and I wasn’t quite ready to accept that reality even though my brain knows she is no longer here.

It is hard letting go. It is painful; to let go for one has to process one’s emotions by naming them: the grief, frustration, fear, horror, loss, bewilderment, regret, anger and hurt... I also have to acknowledge how deeply I mourn her passing, allowing all the sadness I felt from as far back as four years ago to surface and sit with it. Most of all I have to acknowledge the deep grief I felt seeing her suffer in those last days, the sense of helplessness I felt from not being able to make her feel better.

There is such great pain in seeing someone you love suffer and knowing that whatever you do to help in concrete terms is futile and pathetic. My love was simply not enough. All I could do was stand by and weep at the awful decline wrought by the cancer. The horror and the sorrow runs deep.

Then there is the sense of loss from the aching void her death has left behind. Even though I did not live with her, her absence is palpable. And yet, as one of her dear friends said to me, E is still here, but in a different way. P said she was able to connect to E through prayer, spiritually, and I guess I need to learn to do the same.  

As Christians who believe in eternal life and the communion of saints, I get that we are still united through love and we will eventually experience a union in heaven that far supersedes the way we have experienced love on earth, but I still miss the conversations, the closeness of shared experiences, the familial love we had for each other for over 50 years that was so rooted in our mutual love for Christ in latter years. 

My gratitude runs deep that God in His infinite wisdom and mercy saw fit to gift the two of us with the gift of the other. Our relationship was pure gift, so much so that not even death can separate us fully for our bond of love is unbreakable, founded, as it were, on the Creator’s own love. 

I know in days to come that I will still be guided by her spirit which was so deeply grafted on Christ Himself. I continue to ask for the grace to transmute my grief into something more powerful, something that purifies the way I love those around me into a self-giving and humble love that brings healing, wholeness and great spiritual joy. 

I let go of the past today, wonderful as it was, and I look to the future with hope and excitement for E is still with me, guiding me on my way forward. Thanks for stopping by in my dream, E. Love you much.  

Remembering

Today is the birthday of J who would have been 53 if he were still with us. It is also the two-month anniversary of E’s passing. It is a bit of a double whammy for me as they were both so dear to me and I feel their absence quite keenly. 

Their leaving has left a huge void in my life for we were buddies first before we were cousins. I kept in touch with both frequently when they were living abroad, and saw them regularly when they were living in Singapore. We shared our lives - celebrated our victories, and commiserated over our sorrows.

Yet I am reminded of a homily which I heard at the start of this year to give thanks; be grateful for everything in my life. And I am grateful that the Father saw fit to place both E and J in my life which has been enriched immeasurably. 

The laughter, the tears, the good and bad times, we have walked together through it all. Nothing can erase the memories except perhaps my own faulty memory, and yet, at the end of it all, the deep love I have for both of them will remain.  

Today I celebrate dear J’s birthday by giving thanks to the Creator with a little prayer that J is now in Paradise with Him, as is E. Kisskiss, hughug, much love, me cozzies. I am so glad you were, and still are in my life. Happy, happy birthday J.

Unprecedented blessings

While driving earlier on, a radio DJ asked: In one word, describe how the year has been for you? I am loathe to say tough, although it has been tough for I most recently lost someone whom I love very much after journeying with her in her last months. It has been heartbreaking while at the same time I am glad that she is not suffering any longer, and rejoice that I have a new guardian angel looking out for me from heaven. Simply have to take the bad with the good.

I hesitate to say challenging as well for every year has its own challenges. Yet nothing is so bad that we cannot overcome adverse conditions, loss, or complete chaos, especially when God is on our side, and, more importantly, we are on His. No matter what happens, if I do not deviate from the narrow path of all that Christianity espouses, then I know I am good. Thus it has been in past years, and so it has been in these last 12 months, and will continue to be in the future. Nothing and no one can take away my joy, my bliss, my freedom. Not even a pandemic. Reading the Bible in a very intentional way this year has brought this message home to me more than ever. I am blessed, and I am immensely grateful for all I have been given. 

If I need to mask up when outdoors, watch that I am not standing too close to strangers, sanitize my hands frequently, curtail social gatherings and keeping gatherings to a legally prescribed number, so be it. If I have to stay home for several weeks, it is not the end of the world. No biggie. I love my family, some of whom are vulnerable, so I do my utmost to ensure they are not at risk. Life may have seemed more circumscribed, but it was definitely not diminished.

Besides work, I have been busy with family, especially grandchildren who have brought me tremendous joy. I have had the opportunity to work with my community and participate in a couple of outreaches via the wonders of Zoom. I have picked up a new ministry, journeying with people who wish to be baptized Catholics. I have had the privilege of journeying with someone and watching his conversion to Christ, something that brought him peace in his last days. I have put to use the gifts and talents I have been given, helped those who needed a helping hand, connected meaningfully with people, brought hope, maybe even a few laughs if not joy. 

The word I would choose to describe 2020 is unprecedented. Unprecedented in life experiences, and unprecedented in how I have been called to respond and act, to show love in new ways, to communicate in new ways, and to bear fruit in new ways. I am even been called to worship God in new ways. While all these new experiences may not have been fully comfortable in their initial strangeness, I continue to say yes and be open, adaptable to the newness of life. And I look forward to unprecedented ways to say thank you to my Maker for always making a way, even when there seems to be none. Look harder, there’s always a new way.

 

Letter to E

I cannot believe that you are no longer here. It has been almost a month and I have not really allowed myself to think of your passing except when I pray for I continue to pray for your soul my most heartfelt wish being that you are already with our Lord in paradise, no longer in purgatory. I believe you are already there with the many whose lives you have touched and transformed and who therefore are praying fervently the same prayer that I am. But call it insurance. Plus I know my prayers will not go to waste for they will help others who are still in purgatory so this is my win-win prayer for you. 

Although I cannot quite put into words my grief for it changes all the time, from inchoate to full blown depression (I’ve put on weight from all the emo eating I’ve indulged in to fill the emptiness inside, chocolate being my food of choice which, I am sure, you would approve), and I have isolated myself away from well-meaning friends who are grieving as I am for my grief is private and unique something I am not quite ready to share with others.

My memories range from the whimsical - all those magical times we shared: playing as girls, listening to the single Pappa loves Mama, trying to heal that beautiful blue butterfly we found in your garden; you happily showing me around Cambridge; that gorgeous summer’s day in Heidelberg when you drove down from Allerheiligen in the Black Forest to spend the afternoon with me; eating ice cream in wintery Boston, walking around the touristy surroundings of Faneuil Hall; those three life-changing weeks in Bangalore at Pastoral Counselling School where I first experienced God’s compassionate and forgiving mercy through you; our final carefree outing together at Sonya’s Secret Garden in Tagaytay - to the terrible: that Sunday morning you called me when you experienced great pain which we later realized was when the tumour had burst; to P feeding me Korean ginseng chicken soup when he broke the news of your cancer to me (I remember telling him I would go mad if I lost you for that was the year we both lost J.); watching you suffer through chemo that first round, the only relief provided by my wedding day; then the brief respite when you received the all clear PET scan results... until the cancer returned and the mad rollercoaster of grief began yet again as you went through the suffering of treatment which morphed all too quickly from preventive to palliative. 

It was hard watching your decline, that last year, that last month, that last week and that last morning. If I could have, I would have taken the suffering and pain away from you, yet all I could do was watch the awfulness of it all, pretty much helpless. 

There is so much love within my heart for you, this gift from God, this bond of pure love that has never changed except to grow stronger through the years from the time I could remember. I know it will never die even though you are not here physically, materially. 

Part of my grief is selfish for I am wondering how am I going to grow spiritually without you challenging me, encouraging me, guiding me, and loving me, even though I know this will never stop, for your spirit lives on in my heart, and I know you are still with me through our shared Catholic faith. 

There is, of course, great consolation in my desolation, knowing you are gained eternal life and that you are free from the chains of that odious cancer. For there is a lightness within my heart, as Emily Dickinson wrote, the thing with feathers that never stops singing - at all. You have become that thing with feathers, that little singing bird that will go on singing through the storms and gales of my life. 

Like Mary Magdalene I need to let go of known perceptions, comforting in their familiarity, to embrace a whole new reality of life, new life, resurrected life. Our lives together have just begun. The love never stops - ever...

Cana revisited

Who knew what the future would hold

A scant four years ago

In faith we said yes to marriage 

A life together having and holding

Hand in hand we have walked

Our hearts made whole in unity

Joined by our mutual love for the One

Who makes all things possible 

When we do whatever He tells us 

Miracles have abounded we are astounded 

By the joy of living as husband and wife

We give thanks for His wisdom and grace

His purpose and plan 

We say yes today and always

To praise and glorify Him

With deep gratitude for our Mother 

Who knew exactly what each one needed

The best for last to last forever

Blessed be the Lord our God

Who makes all things new and alive

Loving means letting go

I have let you go

By restful waters of a new life

A well deserved place at the table.

I have let you go

Into the arms of the shepherd

Who swaddles you cosy, carrying you home.

I have let you go

Ascending the mountain

Disappearing into the clouds.

I have let you go

In peace and joy to the Bridegroom

With one last backward smile goodbye 

I have let you go

Free from the interminable suffering

Free to be His beloved, desired child.

I have let you go

My selfish grief has settled

Into great rejoicing at your perfect healing.

I have let you go 

With great gratitude

For having known you and loved you.

I have let you go 

For I know you will never truly leave me

The gentle breeze whispers your heart. 

Grief-struck

Sad, sad, sad, incredibly sad, that this would happen

Why, why, why, it makes no sense, oh no, it doesn't.

Does it shake my faith? Of course it does.

Did my daily prayers not move You?

You are not listening to me!

Surely there’s still much to be done

The harvest is rich, and You need labourers

Is she not one of the best in Your sight

As she is, deep within my little girl heart?

Surely Your plans need time to unfold 

Why, at least until I am bent over with age?

You say to trust You with all of my heart,

and not lean on my own understanding,*

That the wisdom of this world is foolishness**

Then, help me understand, for, right now,

I am foolishly, most indubitably, a mess. 

* Proverbs 3:5
** 1 Corinthians 3:19

Written on September 6, 2018.

Fare thee well, au revoir

In my heart there is a space filled with love of you

You were my gift from God, a very special one

Words are simply not enough to express who you are to me. 

Nor describe the beauty of our story, the love and life we shared. 

Now you have left me to carry on without you. How could you? 

Grief indescribable floods my whole being. 

How will it be possible, you, not in my life?  

You, whom I've known simply forever. 

You showed me the Way, His truth, how incredibly beautiful life can be, 

To live as His bride, adorned in jewels bright.

Thank you, my dearest coz, for everything. 

A life poured out on the altar, a pleasing aroma of Christ. 

When I look to the heavens I know you will be there

to guide me home to Paradise where we will be together again.