Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw. Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni nanay. Nais kong maulit ang awit ni inang mahal. Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan. Sa aking pagtulog na labis ang himbing. Ang bantay ko'y tala, ang tanod ko'y bituin. Sa piling ni nanay, langit ay buhay. Puso kong may dusa sabik sa ugoy ng duyan.
I’ve been singing this song to my child ever since she was born. It’s special to me. We used this for our interpretative dance in grade school. Plus, dancing to this won me a pageant, even though my costume was awful!
Anyway, I really loved the song’s rhythm, but in retrospect, I realized I didn’t fully understand its meaning. I just thought that it was a heartfelt song.
Until now, I still remember our dance routine. I imagine dancing to this song with my child someday.
Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw. Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni nanay. Nais kong maulit ang awit ni inang mahal. Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan.
A few months ago, its meaning to me was changed. Just like how everything in my life did.
Recently, as the lights are turned off, as Luna hugs me tight, as I close my eyes, and as I sing this song...
I could only think of Mama.
I miss her. I miss the person who loves me the most. The person who taught me how to love. The person who demonstrated the purest love even until her last breath. I miss her sorely.
Sa aking pagtulog na labis ang himbing. Ang bantay ko'y tala, ang tanod ko'y bituin. Sa piling ni nanay, langit ay buhay. Puso kong may dusa sabik sa ugoy ng duyan.
I try to cry silently each time. I don’t want to disturb Luna’s sleep. I couldn’t stop my voice and body from shaking, though. I’m longing for my mom in ways that I never knew I would.
One night, I was thinking how I won’t ever have anyone again, who will love me like how Mama did. Then suddenly, Luna woke up from my sobbing. She kissed my face repeatedly, stroked my arm, looked at me with a big smile on her face, then went back to sleep.
God really responds to us in unexpected ways, doesn’t He...
Sa aking pagtulog na labis ang himbing. Ang bantay ko'y tala, ang tanod ko'y bituin. Sa piling ni nanay, langit ay buhay. Puso kong may dusa sabik sa ugoy ng duyan.
I never knew that this was a grieving song. It’s provoking a storm of thoughts and feelings inside me.
This kind of pain is interesting. It’s the kind that I won’t ever be cheered up from. It’s horrendous. It’s a feeling that has no silver lining.
Not all people will understand, and it’s okay. We all grieve differently.
Grief is as individual as our lives, according to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, a psychiatrist who pioneered near-death studies and the theory of the five stages of grief.
These past few months, I’ve appreciated books more than ever. They are such perfect companions, because I don’t feel judged nor given dismissive advice. They don’t tell me not to cry.
Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw. Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni nanay. Nais kong maulit ang awit ni inang mahal. Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross and her husband, David Kessler, in their book On Grief and Grieving, has taught me to own my grief, and not let anyone take it from me.
That the process of healing could take forever, and it’s okay.
That it’s normal not to like it because it really sucks.
That acknowledging all that is lost and learning to live with the pain aren’t like reaching a finish line. Because there’s no end point to this feeling of loss.
We may experience this Acceptance Stage, and may go back to the other stages, then go to the final stage again. It’s like a loop.
Sa aking pagtulog na labis ang himbing. Ang bantay ko'y tala, ang tanod ko'y bituin. Sa piling ni nanay, langit ay buhay. Puso kong may dusa sabik sa ugoy ng duyan.
When I had the chance to listen to a podcast, I chose Tim Ferriss interviewing Leo Babauta, one of my favorite bloggers (transcript here).
One of his statements that resonated with me was this:
“If you have something or someone that matters more than yourself, you can actually go through the hardest discomfort.”
I cried when I heard this. If only I could howl, I would.
I realized that all my life, one of the people who has helped me get through the most difficult life discomforts...has been my Mama.
Thinking how she survived hers has inspired me the most.
I was also able to get out of self-absorption, because Mama was around.
Leo said that there had to be a reason that mattered other than yourself, so you could be limitless; so that you could no longer only in self concern, you still cared about yourself, but that’s not the thing that limits you.
I knew that one of my biggest reasons has been my Mama. My love for Mama has widened my perspective about life and love...and loss.
This kind of love is causing me a dumbfounding pain.
There are things that make me feel like I couldn’t breathe: like the holidays, birthdays, or any red-letter days; like her clothes, shoes, notebooks, and books; like the thought that her death monthsary is a day after my baby’s monthsary.
Megan Divine’s book, “It’s Okay Not to be Okay”, reassured me how this kind of grief is normal and healthy.
She said that we had to acknowledge the pain; that this pain wasn’t a problem to be solved, but an experience to be tended; that taking a break from pain could backfire miserably; that grief was a natural extension of love.
Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw. Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni nanay. Nais kong maulit ang awit ni inang mahal. Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan.
I’ve learned that life is about loving and losing. You can’t fully live if you won’t commit to loving because you’re scared of losing.
I’ve found out that pain and love could and should co-exist.
I’m still on the process of learning to live and love with this pain. I don’t know how long this journey will be.
All I know is I won’t let myself be unchanged by this loss.
Like what Harold Ivan Smith said on Grieving the Death of a Mother, “I have been forever changed by the death of my mother. I take life more seriously. It was a privilege to be her baby, her child, her son.”
I, too, am forever proud to be Elsa Riego de Dios Factor’s daughter.
I’ll love you, Mama, for the rest of my life...
Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw. Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni nanay. Nais kong maulit ang awit ni inang mahal. Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan. Sa aking pagtulog na labis ang himbing. Ang bantay ko'y tala, ang tanod ko'y bituin. Sa piling ni nanay, langit ay buhay. Puso kong may dusa sabik sa ugoy ng duyan.
*- Sa Ugoy ng Duyan (*Lyricist: Levi Celerio, Composer: Lucio San Pedro)