Identity Identification

When Zach was born, the first question that most of our friends asked was, "who does he look like?". Diplomatically and politely some would say, "he looks like his father, or he looks like his mother." Such declaration of truth or falsity, of course, made us proud or guilty. Others, unfortunately will bluntly tell you, "no, he does not look like you, but he looks like his uncle." The most uncharitable or truthful statement that I heard was, "Kung kamukha ni Alex, pangit, kung kamukha ni Manoy mo (referring to my brother-in-law), gwapo".

I do brushed aside such comment especially if I hear an independent and objective assessment from unknown people who will say all of of a suddent the words, " He's so cute, he is so adorable, and he looks exactly like his father." Even as of this writing, there were still some members of our family who are so concerned of who does Zach look like. That prompted me to ask the question, why are they so preoccupied by that. Are they trying to identify Zach to themselves or the other way around? I was more positive with the latter. Why? Because one identifies with the beauty or the handsome or the intelligent or the perfect to make himself beautiful, handsome or perfect! Zach can not do that. Why? He has no sense yet of identification. He goes with the flow of our sense of appreciation of beauty, or handsomeness, or perfectness. He does not know who does he look like?

Hence, people around Zach, that includes us, parents, (more so with my bother in law), identify with Zach's adorable face, infectious smile and calmness. Zach was the perfect epitome of what we want us to be, which unfortunately God never gave us. We identify ourselves with Zach and not the other way around.

Furthermore, Zach has his own identity different from us. He may have some of our physical traits, but everything else is his. That makes him unique and different. Hence, he can not be me, his mother or his uncle. He has his own life to live, devoid of our own prodding (and begging) to be like us.

This makes him independent from us that is why when time comes for him to leave us to seek his own life, we have no hold of him. We have no right to dictate what life he should live after we have done our part of rearing him.

Water and Spirit

There is so much fulfillment when one's dream is realized. Greater more is the fulfillment if it happens within you family cirlce. And it happened with Zach's baptism last July 3, 2005.

I have long been desiring to recreate the liturgy of baptism back to its roots. Inspired by my former professor, Fr. Raul Pura, I dreamt of experiencing its return back to the liturgical practices of the church in the Philippines. But given the enormous number of children being baptized during fiesta, such possibilit is remote, if not nil. But last July 3, such event came right before me.

At the beginning of the liturgy, we brought Zach naked, wrapped in a towel. Jaz became anxious when she saw that it was only Zach who happened to be in that attire. Everybody else are in their best baptismal dresses. Hiding my nervousness and deeply praying that we are not in a wrong place at a wrong time, I tried calming her down.

After so much liturgical gestures and prayers came now the baptism proper. Zach was the first one called by the priest. We gave him to Fr. Brad who in turn, prayed and immersed him in the font for three times uttering the words, "I baptize you in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Thankfully, Zach didnot cry, (our baptismal practice at home was not in vain) As the saying goes, practice makes perfect. It went smoothly as planned and prayed.

I was so happy, not because I was the father, but because it was the liturgy fit for baptism. It highlighted the immersion and rising from the water to a new life. The white garments speaks more of the liturgy. From being naked, we are clothed in the mantle of God's gracious hands, anoined with oil that makes us His children and be the light of the world.

The water is life and makes more alive with the Spirit who welcomes Zach in the Christian community as symbolized by the people who came to welcome him also. They are not only visitors who will partake or devour the blessings of life but they are the people of God who joyfully welcome Zach into their communities, into their families.

Grief, Grieving n Gift

Let the pain sink, grieve and let it go. Dying is one of the painful realities of life that man would not dare to confront and much more to experience. But we all do, in one way orthe other, are given a chance to measure ourselves on how do we handle dying and death. Scream as you may want. Hurl words that only heavens can understand. That is one's privelege. But of course, nothing will change.

I remembered when my brother died years ago. The moment I saw him lying on bed, I threw my bag, run to him, hug him and begged my mother to name the child in her womb Roy, in memory of my brother. We grew up together, shared and quarelled with one bike, teased one another and competed from the attention of our parents. Eldest as I am, I won most of the time. But I knew, my parents heart are for him. Weeks after we laid him to rest there was no night that we dont wake up and cry. We wanted him back. Instead, we contended ourselves with his pictures.

Today, I still long for him. I still ask the question why him? Why that early? There were so many missed moments that we were not able to share. Mind you, I still cry when I remember him today. For how could I not? He was such a good boy, better than me.And he could have been married today, with kids and living a wonderful life.

But grieving and grief are also gifts more than a curse. They are gifts to ourselves to understand the process of life. They serve as our tools to remember more, love more, cherish more and hold on more to the memory of our loved one. The deeper the grieving, the more loving you become. The painful the leaving, the more human you become. It is the letting go that makes it easier to cope life. It is the letting go that drives us to live for others.

There is pain, for there is so much love.