MARIVIE CATIS-DALMAN
On a rainy Tuesday morning not too long ago, I sat watching a video. It spoke of Jesus, eliciting both awe and fear among His disciples. It was LDP teaching night, and as head of the service team, I could not find a substitute. I had to leave my mother’s bedside with the rest of my family in attendance. My mother had suffered a stroke and was in a coma.
I thought of my mother in that mixture of fear and awe. My parents were both educators. My mother brought us up strictly. She taught us to aim for perfection from good manners to reading books to using the corresponding chopping board for each kind of food! Seeing her pride in me as I recited poems at family reunions was worth more than any gift.
When I was ten, my father had a massive heart attack. Thus started a dark period. For more than five years, my mother, steeped in sorrow, kept everything in place at home as though my father never left. Her room was like a mausoleum. Nothing seemed to please her anymore. I started to rebel; I began to dislike her and could not relate to her or what was happening. I eventually hated everything about her.
Then one day, she became a Carmelite Tertiary sister and discovered contemplative prayer. A new period had begun. My mother taught me how to use prayer in my daily life. Indeed, she prayed for everything! She offered Mass intentions for people’s birthdays, those facing financial problems or difficult exams. When our jeep wouldn’t start, she called on the Holy Spirit to help us.
When I got married and started a family of my own, I became very close to my mother, though she lived in Zamboanga. I was no longer afraid of her. Like magic, awe replaced my fear. I followed her every advice and wrote to her from Manila.
I was with my mother when she breathed her last. It is the most difficult of all life’s happenings. I know that with death comes great sorrow. But the ten-day wake had been nothing but sheer grace, an experience of pure joy. We celebrated her life with family and friends as we listened to her favorite songs and recited a Novena prayer she had earlier written.
Yes, it is possible to experience the passing of a loved one, to look through her suffering and let her go with joy. I understand now why saints rejoiced in their pain. Yes, it is possible because of God’s grace, and I am forever thankful for this blessing!
I have many stories to tell my children and grandchildren about this great 97-year old lady. She is my mother who discovered an essential thing in life: PRAYER!
*Written with the assistance of Alice E. Gonzaga