Birthday Lessons from a Glamping Trip

On celebrating my birthday as a widow, I couldn't help but still feel lonely. I had moved on but I hadn't gotten over the loss. Anyway... enough of the drama.

Birthdays are usually happy occasions celebrated with family and friends. As for me, birthdays have become opportunities for growth, regardless of age. By the way, I am now 57 years old. 

I believe I am still learning—learning from both the young and the old. I continue to grow, hopefully in wisdom, knowledge, and in becoming a better mother and solo parent to my adult children.

Monday Morning at the Breakfast Table

Memory Lane (May 2016)

I remember posting this on Facebook months ago.

The status read:

The mother called for a family meeting...
Rey and I introduced our family meeting to our children when they were still young. They have no choice but to follow. 😉 We usually held them once a week during breakfast. One by one, from the youngest to the eldest, everyone shared what had happened during the previous week. Everyone was encouraged to share a thought, whether serious or not. Somehow, even the simplest conversations always became part of the fun. 😄

Even after Rey was gone, we continued the tradition every now and then.  

Pero super tagal na ng huli! Kelan na nga ba? 

So, God made a reason for me to call a family meeting! This time, it wasn't around the breakfast table. It was in my bedroom. 

❤️❤️❤️

Wearing Two Hats

⏳ Author’s Note (2026)

I found this piece tucked away in my files, written in 2015—just a few months after my life completely shifted. Reading it today reminds me of how heavy those early days of solo parenting and business management were, and how much grace it took for my children and me to find our footing together.

Learning To Be Alone

Author’s Note from 2026: 

Re-reading these words ten years later, I realize I was wearing a very brave mask when I wrote this. I think I was trying to convince myself that I was okay when the house first grew quiet. The truth is, learning to be alone was terrifying, and the comfort I wrote about was a prayer I desperately needed to believe. Healing isn't a straight line, and it is okay if the mask slips sometimes. If you are reading this today and hiding behind your own brave mask, please know it is okay to just be still and let yourself feel the quiet."

Whenever my children were out—at work or in school—and I was left at home after my husband passed away, I found myself getting used to eating alone in my room. Yes, in my room, not at the dining table.

At first, it felt unusual. Eventually, it became my quiet space.

When the Mother Felt Out of Place

The family was used to singing along with whatever was being played on radio or car stereo while we were on the road. In the past, frequently played songs were my husband's choice—praise songs, especially Ron Kenoly's songs, which were his favorites, and songs from the 70's and 80's.