The Dream

I had a dream on Christmas morning that I will never forget.

In my dream I was in the back yard of my parent’s home pulling weeds.  It was a vibrant sunny day and I wore my big straw gardening hat to help shield my eyes from the bright sunlight, old jeans and sneakers with an oversize white tee shirt that originally belonged to my dad and an old pair of gardening gloves.   I was on my knees as I was pulling the weeds out of my mom’s Iris flowerbed, when I notice something very peculiar.  As I looked to my right side, just a few inches away from my right knee was a very large cocoon.  I quickly got off my knees and jumped back because I have never seen a cocoon so large in my life! At first I thought it was a piece of dead snakeskin but it wasn’t hollow, something was inside side it but I couldn’t make it out. As I stood up and bent over to give it a better look at it, I was ready to run in case anything came out that was going to sting me.  I noticed how ugly it looked; it had a  yellowish and almost a goopy green color to it.  It was about three to four inches long and it looked about a quarter of an inch in diameter.  “Ugh! What an ugly cocoon! I guess what ever was in it died.” I thought to myself so I walked over and got Penny old poop scooper to throw the cocoon in the green trashcan that we used for gardening.

I walked up to the cocoon ready to scoop it up, when it started to move!  I jump back and dropped Penny’s scooper ready to run away but keeping my eyes fixed on the huge cocoon.  The cocoon started to move and roll around and after a few seconds, I was able to make out an image of a Monarch Butterfly fighting it’s way out of the cocoon.  I stood there frozen as the huge wings of orange, white specks, black trim and yellow dots broke out of the cocoon.  Then the massive  black legs and body followed and after a few seconds of struggle it was free.

I stood in amazement of what I just witnessed as the Monarch Butterfly just started to circle around me with it’s massive wing span.  As it circled around me, the feelings of peace and love just consumed me.  I felt safe and secured that nothing was going to hurt me as this immense creature filled with such beauty and grace flew around me.  Then suddenly, the Monarch Butterfly hovered in front of my face as if it was saying goodbye and flew away.  I watch it fly away into the brilliant clear blue sky until it was no longer in my sight; then I woke up from the dream.

Everything seemed so quite and peaceful as I opened my eyes and realized that it was all a dream. 

This morning I felt the peace that I have long to feel since my sister's passing in October of this year.

I am grateful that my sister came to visit me in the wee of the morning in such a unique dream  just to reassure my mind and heart that she is fine; Mary wants to me to continue with life as she continues living our Lord in heaven. To be brave, strong and continue to love her as she continues to love us in heaven and even though she is out of  our sight, she will always be in our hearts and minds.  I love you Mamas!

Christmas Shopping

 Christmas shopping was always simple for my sister Mary Magdalene.  Every year she would buy each of us  $20 gift certificates from Target. 

     “Emils, can you do me a favor?” asked Mary. 
     “What is it Mamas?” I asked. 
     “I need to go to Target, can you take me?”
     “Sure, what do you need to get?” I asked.  I knew what she was going Christmas shopping because is was a week or two before Christmas; I just wanted to see if she was going to keep it was a surprise.
     "None of your business, can you take me or not?"                          
     ” Of course Mary, what time did you want to go?”,
     “In the morning,” she said. 
     “Okay Mamas, in the morning but what time in the morning? How about nine o’clock, is that okay?”

     ” Yeah, nine is fine.” Mary smiled and said,
     “And maybe we can go to the Ihop for breakfast, what do you think?”
     “OKAY!” as Mary’s face lit up with a huge smile.  Mary loved the Ihop because her favorite dish was the rooty tooty pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream.

So the next morning Mary and I went for one of the best breakfast experiences I ever had with my sister.  
      “I love rooty tooty Emils,” said Mary as her piping hot pancakes, strawberries topped with a huge mountain of whipped cream and hot chocolate was placed in front of my sister as we had our breakfast.  Mary was always a slow eater so I know she truly enjoyed her breakfast that morning.

After breakfast we headed to Target, even though we had just had breakfast, Mary was already feeling the fatigue  due to the MS but you would never see it in her face.  As she walked back to the car, she was already starting to walk with a little of a wobble as she pushed along with her walker.

As I parked at the Target parking lot, I got off and took Mary’s walker out and set it up for as I helped her out of my car. 
     “Stay here Emils, I’ll be right back.” Mary said.
     “Oh no Kiddo, I’m going with you.” I replied. 
     “No Emils, I’ll be okay, I can do it.  I know what I want to buy and I will be right back,” answered Mary. 

As Mary took the first couples steps and her legs started to wobble as she tried to keep her balance.           “Mary, I’m going with you! Your tired Mamas from the Ihop, I don’t want you to fall,” as I started guided her walker. 
     “No Emils, I can do it, I want it to be surprise.  Don’t worry, I’ll be okay,” answered Mary.  Her eyes reflected such determination and her face filled with certainty and strength that I let go of her walker. She then whispered, “I can do it.”
It killed me to let go of her walker as she slowly wobbled into Target by herself.  I was so scared of my sister falling and no one being around to help her; I was worried that she wouldn’t find anyone to assist her if she needed help.

It felt like hours, which were only minutes as Mary finally came out of Target and stood at the entrance of the store.  

I then got out of my car and went to her,
     “Oh Emils, I forgot where we parked.” Mary said.
     “That’s okay Mamas, did you get everything you needed?” I asked. 
     “Yep,” Mary answered.
     “You okay?” “Yep,” she answered. 
     “Ready to go home?”

     “Yep,” she answered. 
     “Did you need to do any more shopping Mamas?”
     “Nope,” she answered. 
     “Okay Mamas, let’s go home,” then Mary handed me a small red and white plastic bag and her purse.  I slowly guided Mary’s walker towards my car as Mary kept a tight grip of her walker as she slowly followed.  As I helped Mary into the car she said,
     “Thanks, Emils. Can we go home? I’m tired,”
      “Yes Mamas, let’s go home.”

It’s been over four years since Mary was able to go shopping and enjoy the Ihop. She will still be celebrating Christmas with us in heaven, I wonder if she got Jesus a $20 gift certificate from Target for His birthday/Christmas present?

Sleepy Time

Every night before my sister Mary Magdalene would go to sleep my mom and I would pray together with her.  One Our Father, one Hail Mary and the Guardian Angel prayer was our nightly prayer time with God and together as a family.

However sometimes my sister suffered from insomnia and at times she would only get two maybe three hours of sleep a night. 

Every night I would quietly check my sister to see if she was sleeping and from time to time she would be wide-awake. I would quietly tippy-toe into her room to her bed.  Mary would turn her head and look at me so helplessly because I know she was tired. So I would gently stroke her hair and whispered,       “Mamas, it’s sleepy time, it’s time to go to sleep.  You need your rest, can’t you sleep?”
“No,” Mary replied softly with a tear running down her face.

So I would keep tenderly stroking her head and gently say, ”Sleepy time, go to sleep, its sleepy time Mamas, try to get some rest.”   Mary would close her eyes and try to relax but a few seconds later her eyes would pop open and the tears would fall again.

Mary was prescribed some medication to help her sleep but at times it didn’t seem to take effect at all, no matter how often she took it.

So one night I was at my wit’s end with my sister’s insomnia, it was two in the morning and Mary was going over 24 hours without sleep. Mary looked so exhausted, she was staring to get dark rings under her eyes and it seemed that Mary wasn’t going to have the sleep she so desperately needed.   I sat by her bed and started to stroke her hair, over and over I would whisper, “Sleepy time Mamas, it’s sleepy time.,”  as Mary struggled to relax so I started softly sing,

“Sleepy time, close your eyes, time for mimis say good night;

sleepy time, sleepy time, my love;

sleepy time, say good night, time for sleeping, close your eyes;
 sleepy time, sleepy time, my love.”©

As I  softly sang to my sister the Sleepy Time Song, softly stroking my sister’s hair, she gently started to drift off to sleep.  I couldn’t believe it!  I sat quietly and watched my sister  sleep peacefully in her bed.  “Is that it? She just needed a lullaby?” I thought.  What a fool I was! Some thing so simple as a lullaby could help Mary relax and put her at ease to the point was she was able to go sleep. No drug could have done it; just love and compassion. So I tippy-toed out of my sister’s bedroom as she slept quietly.

After that when my sister had a difficult time sleeping, all I had to do was sing the Sleepy Time Song© and my sister would gently drift to sleep. 

I’ve only sung this song twice since my sister went back to heaven, once at her vigil and a month after her passing at the cemetery.  I love you Mamas, I miss you but know we will see each other again.

Something Simple

Sometimes you can find a hidden jewel in the midst of piles and piles of stuff. So my mom and I started the task of going through small white night stand that has two dresser drawers in my sister's bedroom.
 It was full of all kinds of items and medical paperwork that belonged to my sister Mary Magdalene.

 Some were medical papers were dated as far when Mary was first diagnosed with MS.  Paper trails of all the different companies of In Home Service for Mary; I am so grateful to each of them because they taught me so many valuable lessons in caring for my sister.

However, in the midst of paperwork was a hidden jewel that took both my mom and I by surprise.  We found a small bright yellow plastic box that had three stickers of multicolor fishes and two black and white penguins on the top lid.  In the box we found pictures of Mary’s Grad Night at San Gabriel High School, an old bus pass of my mom when she worked as a MTA bus driver. There were pictures of our family along with pictures of Mary’s friends from high school.  We found a CD case with artist like The Cars, Stone Temple Pilot, Alice In Chains, the Police and cassette of Bryan Adams Cut Like A Knife; she was such a fan of 80’s music.  

 To our surprise we found two certificates, one was of Mary’s First Holy Communion certificate (April 29, 1984), she was just eight years old at the time. 

I remember how lovely my sister looked when she made her First Holy Communion, all dressed in white with the exception of her little black paten shoes.  We went to go eat after the mass to celebrate such a memorable occasion and of course she received presents for the occasion.

Then I found a small beige envelope; it had her Confirmation certificate. I had completely forgot that I was Mary’s sponsor for confirmation until I read the index card with her confirmation name (Alexandria after St. Alexandria) and my name was filled in as the sponsor.  A picture of the Most Re. Carl A. Fisher, S.S.J.,D.D., Titular Bishop of Tlos Auxiliary Bishop of Los Angeles San Pedro Regional Bishop. Bishop Fisher confirmed my sister on May 5, 1993 and passed away from his battle of cancer in September of 1993.  I can visualize in heaven,  Bishop Fisher walking up to my sister and introducing himself saying,"Hi Mary! Do you remember me?" I could see my sister leeringly looking at him and saying "No." then he would reply, "I'm Bishop Fisher, the one who anointed you at your confirmation mass." I could see Mary's facial expression starting to think as she stares at him, then light up and scream, "OOOHH YEAH!" as she wraps her arms around  him. At that moment, both of them would be talking about the time of when my sister was confirmed at St Stephen's Catholic Church.

I remember during this time of my sister’s two-year confirmation program, the Confirmation Coordinator had invited a special guest come one night to introduce to the teens a positive roll model.  The guest just happened to be Oscar De La Hoya; he brought his gold medal he had won at the 1992 Olympics for boxing.  Mary got to meet him, hold his gold medal and give him a hug.  She was so happy when she came home that night. My family was watching television in the living room. My dad came into the house with Mary; she stood in the middle of the living room and was gleaming with excitement when she said, “You will never guess who I met tonight.” “Who did you meet?” We asked.  “It was OSCAR DE LA HOYA!” screamed Mary. We were all completely shocked as Mary started to waive his autograph she said, “He is so cute! He is so tall and BOY did he smell good!”  “Mary, you met Oscar De La Hoya? That’s great Mija!” said my mom.  Mary smiled then said, “Yeah Mom, I met him and he was so nice to everyone. He is a cutie patutie!”  We still have the autograph from Oscar De La Hoya and it's tucked away in Mary's grey plastic container along with other items that we just couldn't depart with because there are so many memories attached to them. At times when I look at the container, I feel as if I found a treasure chest filled with priceless memories.

Isn’t it extraordinary when you find something so simple that can spark such a domino effect of memories when you least expect it. 

New Year Eve 2009

The New Year is coming in a couple of weeks and I guess we will welcome it in without my sister Mary Magdalene.  However, even though we know that she will always be with us in spirit, it doesn’t ease the pain of loss.

On New Year Eve last year my dad did something that was so NOT my dad; he came home with a pack of party favors and a bottle of champagne to celebrate and welcome the up coming of the new year.  My mom and dad just usually make menudo and go to be before midnight. However, on New Year’s Eve of 2009, my dad wanted to make sure we were all up and welcomed in the New Year as a family.  As my dad placed the shopping bags on the dinning room table, he turned and seen that Mary was in the living room sitting quietly on her light blue lift chair watching television.
      “Are you ready to party Mary?” he asked.
      “Yeah dad, I am,” answered Mary. 
      “Good! Because we are going to party together!” my dad said with a smile.

Surprisingly, my sister Mary Magdalene was with us until midnight.  My parents, Mary and I all watched and waited for the Dick Clark Countdown, as we wore party hats, held horn makers and waited for the champagne as it was chilling in the refrigerator.  My sister Mary Magdalene sat on a beige lift chair and wore her purple Eeyore sweatshirt, light blue sockies and matching Eeyore pajama bottoms. Waiting patiently, we all did the counted down together
     “Five, four, three, two one….Happy New Year!!” we all shouted as we watched the ball fall and welcomed in 2010.

I popped the champagne and started to pour into the champagne glass, my dad kissed my mom as Mary tried with all her might to blow on her horn maker.
      “Blow harder Mija!” said my dad as he held Mary’s horn maker firmly to Mary’s mouth.  Mary wore a silver party hat that matched her horn maker to boot!
     “HHonkk!” went Mary’s horn and we all cheered,
     ”Yeah Mamas!  You did it!  Honk it again,” Mary took a deep breath and then,
     “hhHonkkk!” went Mary’s horn.
      “I’m tired of honking,” Mary said and we all cheered for her, it was a great way for all of us to bring in the New Year.  I popped the champagne and started to pour it into champagne glass; then my dad made the toast,
     ” I just want to thank everyone for staying up and celebrating as a family.  God willing we will all be together same time next year.  I love you all,” as his voice cracked with emotions.
      ” Happy New Year!”  we all cheered as we rose our glasses together for the toast.
      ” Ugh! This stuff is gross!” Mary sipped the champagne, made a sour face as we all smiled and laughed together.  I took her glass then I gave her the biggest hug and said, “Happy New Year Mamas, I love you so much. I’ll give you some juice instead of champagne.” “Thanks Emils,” answered Mary.

 I will always keep this memory in my heart and when I think about how we celebrated New Year’s 2009, it will always brings a smile on my face.  Just a note to my sister Mary Magdalene: “Happy New Years Mamas, I know heaven is timeless but you can still be with us when we welcome the New Year 2011. I love you and miss you much.” Love Emils

My Three F's

The purple stars are still hanging in Mary’s room.  Mary’s bulletin board, pictures and decorations still hang on the wall in Mary’s room. A white dresser with six drawers and mirror, DVD player and television stand and all of Mary's DVD collection are still in Mary’s bedroom. On Mary's dresser are picture of herself hugging Eeyore at Disneyland, three little Eeyore figures, along with family photos and M&M figures.  The hospital bed is gone along with all the hospital equipment.  No matter how we arrange things in Mary’s bedroom it will always seem empty. 

Even if we removed every single piece of memorandum of Mary from her bedroom, it will always be Mary’s bedroom. 

Sometime, I just sit quietly in Mary’s bedroom; I close my eyes and recall the good times we shared together. 

Before I start my morning prayers, I always invite my sister Mary Magdalene to pray with me.  During my reflection and meditation time of prayer I talk with Mary.   I may not get an answer from her but I know she is listening to me and that gives me peace. 

Don’t get me wrong, there are still times the title wave of grief comes and knock me down with no warning or mercy.  At times like these, the loss of Mary seems like only yesterday.

I never thought I would ever feel any kind of peace after losing my sister.  I guess time does eventually start to heal the wound of loss but is sure leaves a deep tender scare.  I feel that my wound is just starting the process of healing but like a deep cut; it’s going to take some time to get better.  My tunnel has been so dark since my Mamas has been gone even though I know she is in a better place.   It give me a calmness of repose to know that God has been constantly showering my family and I with His graces and through it all I believe these are the graces come to us, I call them my three “F’s”.   With the help of my three “F’s” I have now actually started to see a very small dim light at the end of my tunnel where I felt that there was no light at all. I truly believe that my three "Fs” have helped me up and kept me going forward.

Through the love and support of my Faith, Family and Friends, I have been slowly healing from my losing my sister.

I just want to say thank you to all my Family, Friends and my Faith in God for walking with my parents and I.

To my Faith, I just want to thank God for the thousands of hours in prayer I have spent crying while my sister was suffering, for the times I felt over helmed and thought I couldn't go on one more day, for the times I felt the helplessness and fear of not being able to ease my sister’s pain.  When Mary finally left us, only God's grace was able to fill the huge void in my heart.

Only time is going to heal my wound but I know God is with me every step of the way.

To my Family, I just want to thank your for the unconditional love we have received from everyone that has been such a solid beam of support.  Through tragedy comes blessings and we are grateful for the phone calls, prayers and visits that come to us help us heal.

To my Friends, I am so thankful for the many, many endless hours I have spent on the phone with you.   For waking you up at the late evenings and early mornings as I was going through my process of grief.  As I cried, laughed and at times rambled on, you have given me your love, patience,support, prayers and your  presences on the phone and just being there for my family and I.

 I know our lives will never be the same but we do know we a better person because of Mary Magdalene Rodriguez.  I know Mary’s intervention is continuously looking after my three “F’s” and for that I just want to say, “Thanks Mamas, we love you and miss you too.”

Mary's Closet

I remember talking to my mom about my sister Mary’s closet.  Since Mary Magdalene passed away on October 29^th of this year, her closet has not been touched.  Her clothes and shoes still in her closet, pajamas and blouses in her dresser drawers all remained untouched.  My mom and I would bring up the subject about going through Mary’s clothes and shoes to see what may donate to a non-profit organization but it seemed too painful and too soon.  Just now, I can honest feel that Mary is actually gone.  It hasn’t been easy going into her closet and seeing clothes and shoes that will never again be worn by Mary. Two years ago when Mary would have plasmapheresis procedure done at the hospital, she would be gone for about a month.  It took ten days for the plasmapheresis procedure to be done, and then she would have occupational and physical therapy till the end of the month.  She had plasmapheresis done quarterly so she would be gone four months out of the year. I kept thinking that Mary was at the hospital; however now, I finally realized that she isn’t. 

Once again the subject of Mary’s clothes came up in conversations with my mom and I.  “There are clothes hanging in Mary’s closet that can cloth someone who is in need of clothes, we need to donate Mary’s clothes to someone who has none. Maybe next year we can go through them, okay Mom?” “Well maybe next time when we get a donation bag left at our front door we can go through them,” answered my mom. “Okay, that’s sound good.” I said.  I was hoping that we wouldn’t receive a donation bag any time soon; I thought we would not be looking into donating Mary’s clothes until next year, I was wrong.

This past Monday a non-profit organization left a donation bag at our front door with a paper stating,  “Will pick up on Friday, please have bag out by 8:00 am.”  It was a non-profit organization for at-risk youth and families dealing with drug and alcohol abuse.  I picked it off our door and showed it to my mom and she said, “I guess we were going Mary’s clothes sooner than later.” I looked at my mom in dismay and said, “I guess so.”  My mom looked surprised at me and said,” Who is the one who was talking about clothing the naked and giving to those who have none,” “I know, I know, I just thought we wouldn’t get anything until next year, that all.” I said.  My mom puttered towards me with her walker and gave me a hug then said, “Mija, we need to do this, we need to be strong.  You know Mary wouldn’t mind if we gave her clothes to someone who has none.”  “I know, your right.  I just didn’t think  it would come so soon,” I said.  “I know but we talked about it and I think it’s time because here is a donation bag.  We haven’t gotten one in months so I think Mary is trying to tell us that it’s time,” answered my mom.

The next morning my mom and I started to go through Mary’s closet and dresser drawers in her bedroom.

 As I picked up each piece of clothing and I got a flash back of my sister Mary.   I closed my eyes and I could see in my mind Mary wearing each blouse I held in my hand.  I picked up her shoes and I remember taking her shopping for each pair.  I held a favorite blouse of my sister and plunged my face in it, it had Mary’s scent and I just started to cry as I buried my face in her blouse.  I looked up to find my mom doing the same.  “I know it’s hard but we need to do it Mija,” cried my mom as tears ran down her face.  “I know, but it isn’t easy,” I said.  “I never said it was going to be easy, I said it has to be done,” answered my mom. 

As we filled the several bags with shoes, blouses, t-shirts; each one had a memory attached to it.   We had a total of four full bags and they were picked up the very next day.  Mary’s clothes were doing  anyone any service just hanging in her closet.  After today, at least we know they will be hanging in someone else’s closet to clothed someone else.  Both my mom and I kept an item or two because of sentimental value and I know Mary would understand.

coffee

Before Multiple Sclerosis completely took control of my sister’s life, my sister Mary Magdalene would get up every morning and make a fresh pot of coffee.  What’s amusing about this was Mary didn’t like coffee.  She didn’t eat or drink anything that had caffeine in it but that didn’t stop her from making her usually pot of coffee every morning for us. 

While I would be getting ready for my day, I could open your bedroom door and the aroma of coffee would be filling the morning air; I could hear the gurgling of the coffee machine brewing and I love it.

My morning wasn't complete until I had a cup of Mary's freshly brewed coffee.  My sister would be in the living room watching television or playing the Wii with my mom when I would go into the kitchen for my morning coffee.

“Thanks Mary for making the coffee!” I said as I pulled out my travel mug and filled up for the morning. “Your welcome Emils” answered Mary from the living room.  My mom would already have her steamy cup of coffee by her side as she and Mary played bowling on the Wii in the living room.  Mary was our official automatic coffee maker and she wore this title proudly and with a smile.  I know Mary loved making the coffee because this was one way of Mary showing how much she cared about us.  A simple cup of hot coffee made by love is the best kind of coffee you can have and no coffee shop or café can beat it.  Mother Theresa once said, “Do small things with great love.”  My sister practiced this by simply making us a pot of coffee for us every morning.

Now that Mary has gone back to heaven, I sure miss the aroma and sounds of coffee being brewing every morning because I knew Mary was up for the day and made her famous pot of coffee for us.   My dad or I now usually make the morning coffee but it just not the same.  

Why is my name Mary Magdalene?

I remember one day my sister Mary Magdalene asked,       “Why did mom and dad name me Mary Magdalene?  Wasn’t she a prostitute?”  I chuckled and said, “No.  Mom and dad named you Mary Magdalene because she was the very first person to see Jesus after his resurrection from the dead. The twelve Apostles didn’t see him until later but Mary Magdalene seen him right after He left the tomb!'  Mary answered, “Truthfully?” I said, “Yep truthfully, Mamas, you have a beautiful name of a person who was the closest friend of Jesus and the first one to see him after he rose for the dead.” “Then why does everyone tell me she was a prostitute?” she asked. “It has never been proven in the bible that Mary Magdalene was actually a prostitute” I said. “Okay Emils,” Mary sighed. I knew Mary was not convinced with my answers because she questioned me again later on in the day.

“Then why can’t I find any picture, metal or statue of Mary Magdalene if she was so great?” asked Mary.

I was running out of answers and patients so I said,” Just remember at the beginning of every Easter Season, your name is mentioned every year.  The gospel always reads about how Mary Magdalene finds Jesus out of the tomb and she is so happy to see him, okay?" I said.  Mary sighed, gave a half smile and said, “Okay Emils,” I looked at my sister’s sad expression and told her, “Look Kiddo, I bet you I can find something on Mary Magdalene and when I do I will show you, okay?”  She lit up with a smile and said, ”Cool Emils! Thanks!”

 I was determined to find a medal, picture or book about Mary Magdalene.   I had the hardest time finding anything on St. Mary Magdalene.  I went to bookstores, Catholic stores but I couldn’t find at the time a medal or picture of St. Mary Magdalene.  So I called a close friend of mine and told him about my dilemma, he said, “Why don’t’ you wait and see if you find anything at the Los Angeles Catholic Archdiocese Congress.  I am sure you will find something for Mary there because there are hundreds of vendors selling all kinds of religious items.” “That is a GREAT idea!  Thanks!” I said as I hung up the phone.  On the Saturday of Congress, I went on my quest for my sister and I wasn’t coming home until I found anything on St Mary Magdalene.

It took several long hours of looking, asking and inquiring about St. Mary Magdalene with different vendors.  I almost lost hope until I passed by a vendor who sold tiles of Catholic Saints. All the saints where lined up in alphabetical order so I looked for the letter M and there I end up finding a beautiful tile of St Mary Magdalene.

She was so beautiful, she had long brown hair (just like my sister), big brown eyes (just like my sister), dressed in white and was holding a grey jar.  The jar represented the incense she used when Jesus was placed in the tomb.   I bought it and went straight home to give the tile to my sister, thanking God all the way home for helping me find such a beautiful tile of a wonderful woman.

I got home and asked my mom where was Mary, “She’s in her room, why?” asked my mom,“I have a surprise for her" I said as  I walked  down the small hallway to her bedroom.
 I knocked on her door, “Who is it?” said Mary.

“It’s me Emils and I have a surprise for you, can I come in?”

“Okay” answered Mary.  I walked in and Mary was laying down resting on her bed as she watched television.  I asked Mary to close her eyes and hold out your hands because I had a surprise to give her.  I helped Mary sit up on her bed and cautiously held out her hands and closed her eyes. “Surprise!” I yelled as I took the tile of St Mary Magdalene out of the bag and placed it in her hands. “Oh Wow Emils! You did it! You found Mary Magdalene!” yelled Mary. “Yes Mamas, I did!  I hope you like.” “I do, I do.  Thank you so much. I love it!” Mary said.

“Your welcome Mamas, now let’s see where you want to hang you tile so you can always see and remember who Mary Magdalene was and be proud that mom and dad gave you such a beautiful name, okay?” “Yeah, let’s hang it!” answered Mary.  She was smiling from ear to ear and was glad to have an image of who she was named after hanging in her bedroom. 

This is one of many, many loving memories I have of my sister Mary Magdalene Rodriguez.  Next year’s Easter Season will be a painful since my sister will not be with us, she always smiled when she heard her name mentioned in the gospel reading during the Easter Season. However, this coming Easter Season she will be smiling in heaven as her name is mentioned in the gospel reading of Jesus’s resurrection.   She will probably nudge St Mary Magdalene and say, “Look, they are talking about us!”

Over two thousands years ago Mary Magdalene was the first person to witness the resurrection of Jesus. Two thousand years later, my sister Mary Magdalene coming from twelve siblings is the first to meet our resurrected Jesus.

I miss you Mamas but I know you are okay, love you! 

No More

“No more Emils, no more.” Mary said as her eyes filled with tears.  I had just given her daily injection of steroids in her left arm.  To my surprise, the medication squirted out of that same left arm about two inches above of when I injected her medication.

As I looked in her eyes, I could just see how tired she was feeling; I knew she was tired of 15 daily pills, daily injections of steroids, hospitals, needles, IV’s, experimental procedures, doctor appointments and pain.

I cleaned off the medication that was running down her arm and said, “Okay Mamas, no more.”

I remember when we took Mary to the neurologist and were given two options to prolong Mary’s life.  One drug had a side effect of a brain infection and the other drug had a side effect of an enlarged heart and leukemia.  By this time Mary was very limited in communication and was permanently in a wheel chair.  Mary couldn't hold herself up so we had to keep her strapped in so she won’t fall off her wheel chair.

The neurologist was insisting that her life could be prolonged but did not guarantee the Mary’s life would be improved with either drug.  “It would just prolong her life,” said the doctor.  “Really? What kind of life would Mary have?  She can barely talk; she can’t walk; she having problems hold her food down among many other medical issues. Will any of these drugs improve her quality of life at all?” we asked. “No,” said the doctor. “If Mary is given the drug with side effect of a brain infection, how will the brain infection be diagnosed? She is barely able to speak to us now” asked my dad.  “We would need to conduct an MRI but then we need to consider the radiation she will be exposed to,” replied the doctor. 

A dead silence filled the doctor’s office as we ran out of questions and options to help us make a clear decision on Mary's future. 

As all three of us walked out of the doctor’s office and as I pushed Mary in her wheelchair, we already knew that we were not going to be returning back.

When we got home, we researched both drugs that were suggested by the neurologist.  Due to Mary’s failing health, we knew both drugs had very grave side effects for Mary so we sat as a family and asked Mary what did she think, she replied, “No more, I just want to be home.  Can I just be home?”

“Yes Mary, we will keep you home and as long we can, okay?”  Mary started to cry as did we coming to the decision of “No more,”

It’s so hard for my family to come to terms of the decision of “No more” but that is what Mary wanted so we needed to focus on quality of Mary’s life and to think of her and not ourselves.

Slowly, every day that passed we had seen that all the medications in the world were not going to Mary any better.

I remember sitting in my own doctor’s office because I ended up coming down with bronchitis.  My doctor asked how was my family and I told him what was happening with my sister Mary and just started crying and said, “I don’t know what to do? My mom and I talked about placing Mary in hospice but we are not sure.  We are so scared and it hurts so much.”

My doctor told me that if you are thinking about hospice then chances are you need their services.  He gave me a brochure and I took it home to show my parents.  

Step by Step, Inch by Inch....

I was listening to a CD the other day that was given to us by a bereavement social worker from the hospice facility that took care of my sister Mary Magdalene and our family.  It talks about the different ways people deal with losing someone you love.  I couldn’t help but take notice to the track that talks about keeping yourself busy.  I remember all during the hospice experience we had a woman who came every week to pray with us, she was the spiritual support of the hospice program.  Dana was her name and I will always remember how she would compare my sister and I to the Martha and Mary verses of the bible.  “Your mom should have named you Martha, Emilia; because Martha was the busy one and you are certainly very busy every time I come to visit,” said Dana.   I would just laugh and say, “No Dana, my name is Emilia and I can’t help but be busy.”

As I listen to the CD this memory of Dana's comment comes to mind.  Now, I can completely relate to this track of busyness and Dana's comment. Before my sister passed away, I was very busy taking care of my sister and assisting my dad looking after my mom, the only time I had to rest was when I actually slept at night.  However, I have been finding myself trying to stay busy since my sister Mary Magdalene passed away.  It’s very hard not to because the more busier I am, the more I don’t have to think about the pain and grief that is in my heart. I just do the task at hand and I don’t really have to think about anything else.
 For example, I usually don’t decorate for the Christmas Holiday until the week before Christmas.  Since we are Catholic, the season of Advent just started so for the next four weeks we are preparing for the coming of Jesus.  For Catholics, Christmas season starts on Christmas day and ends on the day of the baptism of Jesus.  

However, this year has be very different since my sister Mary Magdalene will not be with us physically, just in our mind, hearts and spirit.  This past weekend, I removed the autumn decorations and replaced them with Christmas decorations inside and outside of my parent’s home.   Going back about a year ago, Mary received an Italian fern as a Christmas present from my dad’s cousins.  She was so happy to receive it as the tiny tree that sat in a small pot wrapped in red foil, and a mini present wrapped with a red ribbon was tied on one of the branches of the tree as it sat on her dresser for two weeks. After New Year's Day we transferred it into a big pot in the back yard.  I put Mary into her wheelchair and rolled her outside onto the deck of my parent’s home so she can see what happened to her tree.  “Wait and see Mamas, once your tree grows stronger, we will plant in the yard and we will always have a Christmas tree every year.  It’ll be Mary’s tree!” I said.

 “Wow Emils, that’s so cool!” smiled Mary as she looked at the direction of where her little tree was potted in the back yard.  This past summer a couple of my brothers planted Mary’s tree in the middle of the front yard.  By this time the MS had total control of Mary and she didn’t have the strength or the sight to see where her tree was planted so I described it to her as she laid in her bed.  “Hey Mamas, your tree is in the front yard, it strong enough to be on it’s own.  Our brothers put it right in the middle of the front yard so this coming Christmas we will be able to decorate it, it's going to look so pretty!” Mary smiled and blinked her eyes so I knew she understood what I had said and was just as excited.  We were in looking forward to the coming of the Christmas season.   I was so looking forward in rolling my sister out in her wheelchair to my parent's front yard to show her how much her tree as grown. Then, a ask her how she would like her tree to be decorated for Christmas.  Little did either of us know at  that my sister was not going to be here with us this Christmas season.
 So here is a note to my sister Mary Magdalene concerning her tree:
Hey Mamas, do you like your tree?  Isn’t it beautiful? It grew big enough so I was able to decorate this year.  Can you see it?   I know you can see it from heaven, I just want you to know that I will be decorating it every year.  Once I finish decorating it,  I'll look up to heaven and ask you what do ya think, okay Mamas?  I love you and miss you but I  now need to figure out how to start slowing down.   So please, can you help me Mamas?    With your intervention and God's grace, I know one day to take it a little slower every day.  

Love…..Emils

Decorating for the Thanksgiving Holiday

As I decorated for the fall season as I always do, I could help but feel the missing presence of my sister Mary Magdalene.

I remember at this time of the year when I would start to decorate for the fall and Christmas season; Mary would always be watching me from her lift chair and I would always ask her how the decorations looked.  I have a pumpkin that had small little lights all around it's eyes, nose and mouth that changes colors, along with a set of scarecrows that illuminate also in the same manner and would be placed in the living-room on small round tables.  I also had some collectable bears with a Fall theme from a famous coffee shop that I would place around the living room. “How this Kiddo?” as I would be placing the fall garland around the window, “It’s okay,”  replied Mary. 

 I would place the glass pumpkins, scarecrows on the deck’s ledge and sting up the foil garland and soft yellow lights around the deck.  “What do you Mamas, do you like it?” Mary would reply, “It’s okay.”

This year I didn’t have my sister around to ask for her expertise on how I was doing in decorating our parent's home. 

This was the first Thanksgiving without my sister Mary and my heart ached.  I wanted so much to see her face light up when she would eat the stuffing from my parent’s famous turkey and she loved cranberry sauce.  I miss her sitting down in the living room to watch football with my dad and brothers.  I miss asking her, “How you doing Mamas?” and hearing her say, “I’m okay.”  Mary’s smile would tell me that she was more then just “okay”.   She loved Thanksgiving because that was a time to soak up being surrounded by the family she so truly loved.  I know she loved to see the decorations of the holiday.  She would putter around in her walker just to see the decorations that lit up the deck of our parent’s home.  As she stood at the sliding window of the deck, I would ask her, “Do you like it?” she would reply, “Yep, it looks nice Emils!” and would stare at the flickering candle light of the glass pumpkins and warm yellow lights that lit up the deck for the evening.

This year was very different since Mary left us, I know she is in a better place but I sure miss her!  I miss you Mamas!  It doesn’t feel the same, it feels like something is missing and when I turn to see what is missing, I realize that it is you.  I know decorating won’t feel the same because your not here to give me you expertise in decorating.  However, because I love you and because I know how much you enjoyed seeing the decorations of the season I will continue to do it.  I know you are watching us from heaven and I just wanted to let you know that I will always decorate for the holidays.  I love you Mary Magdalene, I always have and I always will.  I am thankful that you are my sister and I had 34 beautiful years of living and loving you.  

You're Right

Sometimes life seems to be so unfair and cruel and you question why bad things happen to good people.   My sister Mary Magdalene was twenty-three years old and just starting junior college and worked part time and seemed to be on the right track of a bright future.  In September of 97’, Mary Magdalene started to feel sick but it took over six months before we got a diagnosis of her illness.

I remember on February 14, 1998 my mom and sister came home from the neurologist and told the rest of our family that Mary was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.  At that time we did not understand the severity of the disease because none of us ever heard of Multiple Sclerosis.  From that day on, Mary life was going to change dramatically and unbeknownst to us so would our lives too. I remember as my sister started her steroid treatments and taking up to 15 different pills a day and take daily injection. After a year of her diagnosis, she had a complete nervous break down.  However, Mary Magdalene came back and was determined not to let MS bring her world to a stop. 

At times Mary struggled with depression and she would say to me,
      “I am going to die before you because I have MS.”  There was a thirteen-year difference between my sister and I and I would look at her and answer back,
     ”Oh yeah, Well I prove you wrong, I will go and play in the freeway to prove to you that I can die before you.”  Mary would laugh and let me know how stupid I was acting and just smile.  I then said,      “You know Kiddo, only God know when we are going to die and it doesn’t matter if you have MS or not,” “No, no your wrong, I am going to die before you cause I have MS,” she said and start to cry.  For years Mary would bring up death and I would bring up my freeway adventure.

As time passed and the MS started to slowly taking over Mary’s life, I still would not concede to my sister’s statement of her dying before me.

Two weeks before my sister passed away I came to accept what my sister had been saying for years. If I closed my eyes I could see my sister’s face and hear her say “I am going to die before you because I have MS.” 

 I went into my sister’s bedroom I sat right next to her hospital bed and said,
     “Mary I have something to tell you.”  My sister slowly turned her head and looked at me with her huge brown eyes. 
     “You are right, you were right all along.”  With the look on her face, she knew exactly what I was talking,
     “I can’t go play in the freeway, who will take care of mom and dad? You were right and I was wrong,it looks like you are going before me.  I just wanted to let you know that you were right.  I love you Mamas, and I'm going to miss you when your gone,”
Mary looked at me smiled then we both started to cry.   My mom had been diagnosed with Parkinson six years ago so along with caring for my sister; I would help my dad with my mom. 

I had to let MaryMagdalene know that I was wrong and she was right even though for years I would not believe or accept what she had told me for years; I just couldn’t bring myself to accept the fact that I may have to live without my younger sister.   Mary Magdalene was slowly dying  before our eyes because the complications of MS just kept growing and we had no way of stopping it from happening.  

Penny

About three and a half years ago, every other Sunday the gardener would come and work on our front and back yard of our home.  My sister Mary would get up early Sunday morning to unlock the side gate so the gardener could work on the back yard and put a leash on our tri-color beagle named Penny.  Penny was a wonderer so Mary wanted to make sure she didn’t wonder off. 

One Sunday morning I was sleeping comfortably in my warm bed; it was about six thirty that Sunday morning when I woke up to Penny howling at my bedroom window.  “Not now Penny!” I grumbled as I turned over and covered my head with my blankets.  However, Penny did not put an end to her howling and seemed to howl ever louder.  Feeling frustrated because it was too early and I still had a couple of hours of sleep before I had to get up and get ready to go Sunday’s liturgy at our parish.  I got out of bed and opened my window, looked out and there was Penny standing at full attention and howling her little lungs out.  “What is girl? Is it a possum? Do you see a possum?” I asked.  Penny was from the hound dog family so she had the tendency to bark at possums, squirrels, cats or rats.  As I looked out the window trying to see what she was barking at, her howling just got louder and she started to snarl at me as she howled so I knew something was up. I put on my slippers and ran outside in my pajamas to investigate.  I thought I would be running into a possum since our neighbors had fruit trees and were not in the habit of trimming them.   When we would get critters running along the top of our back fence I would scare them off with the water hose.   As I made it to the sliding glass door to our back yard I had seen what Penny was barking at.  It was my sister Mary; she had fallen and was lying face down on the grass of our back yard.  Her walker was upside down as it lied a few feet away from her.  “Dad! Mary fell!  I need help!” I yelled.  I ran outside to help my sister, Penny seen me and ran right up to Mary, sat down and continued to howl.  “Mary! Mary!  Where are you hurt? What happened?” I carefully turned her face to one the side so she could breath easier.   “I don’t know, I lost my balance and fell down trying to put the leash on Penny,” said Mary.  She started to cry and said, “I was so scared, I thought that no one was going to help me.”  “Penny helped you Mary, she howled at my window until I came out side to see what was going on.  Penny helped you.”  By this time Penny stopped howling and just sat next to Mary waging her tail.  My dad came out a few minutes later and together we helped Mary off the ground and onto her walker.  “Does anything hurt Mamas?” I asked.  As tears ran down my sister’s face, she answered “No, no.  I just got scared and I don’t know why I fell down.”  Mary had a cut on her face from the fall but it had stopped bleeding.  “Mamas, we have to get you in the house so I can clean you up and you can try to relax because you are going to be fine, okay?”  “Okay” trembled my sister.  So my dad and I pushed her back into the house while Mary sat on her walker.  Penny just followed behind and kept an eye on Mary.  This was the beginning of many falls that Mary had unbeknownst to any of us that the MS was starting to become more aggressive.  I am so grateful for our Penny; if it wasn’t for her Mary could have suffered serious injuries from her fall.   Penny was 17 years, 7 months and fifteen day when we had to put her down.  She was suffering from tumors that bloated her tummy and was in a lot of pain,  she had a fever and she had very shortness of breath.  It hurt so much to see Penny suffering and sometimes in life you have to make tuff decisions, putting Penny down was a  very tuff decision.  I remember talking to Mary about Penny, I told Mary that Penny had gotten very sick and passed away. As I explained to Mary what had happened to Penny, we both cried together and were filled with sadness on that day.  Now, I would like to think that Penny when to Doggie Heaven and is now running around keeping Mary company.  Thank you Penny for taking care of my sister here at home and keeping her company in heaven.

Strength And Courage

Even though Mary was losing her mobility to move, her willingness to help never stopped.  When she had to go from using a commode to adult diapers, she would help me in any way imaginable just to try to make my job easier.  When I would dress her, she would lift her leg, arm or head so I can dress her with more ease.  Giving Mary her daily injection of steroids, she would never complain of any pain but with the size of the needle, I know it had to hurt.  When she couldn’t feed herself anymore that was very hard for her but she tried her best to make it effortless when it came time for either my mom or I to feed her.  As time passed the needs of my sister grew.   As I would be tending to my sister, she would say, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry you have to work so hard; I don’t want to be a burden,” and started to cry.  I would stop what ever I would be doing in helping her with and held her in my arms, then said,” Burden? Sorry?  What are you sorry for?  What did you do wrong that you are apologizing? You’re a burden?  Oh no Mamas! You haven’t done anything wrong; do you hear me? You have never been nor will ever be a burden!  Mom, dad and I are taking care of you because we love you.  We are here for you Mamas and don’t you ever forget it!  Do you hear me? We love you very much!”  Tears would be streaming down my sister’s face as she softly replied, “Yes.”

Tuesdays and Thursdays were the day that the hospice nurse would come and assist me in giving Mary a bed bath.

As time pass with my sister’s illness, a regular shower or bath became too difficult since Mary had no control with her motor skills due to the progression of MS.

I remember on October 28, 2010 the nurse came at her usual time in the morning.  I knew my sister was not doing well all week because she had been battling a constant fever and the feedings had to stop due to the nurses not hearing any activity or sounds in her stomach or her intestinal tract.

So it has been seventeen days since my sister had anything to eat.  As the nurse came into our home I pulled her aside and said,” I’m not sure if Mary will be able to have a bath today, she looks so weak and tired.  What do you think?”  As the nurse popped her head in Mary’s bedroom then said” Good morning Mary, how are you dong Mama?”  Mary gave no response.  The nurse walked with me out of Mary’s bedroom and said, “No.  No bath today but let’s change her pajamas and bedding so at least she will be in a fresh bed and pajamas.”  “Okay,” I replied.  My stomach was already in a knot because I knew what her answer was going to be, I just needed to hear it from her. 

As we walked into Mary’s room, I had everything ready for her bath so the clean bedding and pajamas were placed in Mary’s room the night before.  We first changed her bedding and then started with her pajamas.  As I took off Mary’s top and  started to place it with a fresh top over her head, my sister did something that I will never forget.  Mary started very slowly but steadily to move her left arm towards the direction of the opening of her pajama top.  She was trying to help me with dressing her, she had such a an exhausted look on her face but kept focused in helping me.

I stopped for a second and looked at her in shock and amazement; tears started streaming from my eyes as I said,

“Oh Mamas, your still trying to help me? Your stilling trying me help me even now?”  Mary looked at me and gave me a smile.  I had to stop; I had to stop what I was doing because my emotions got the best of me.  Everything became a  watery blur as my tears were non-stop and streamed down like a heavy rain day.  As I was crying, I continued to help my sister finished getting dressed.  'How amazing is Mary?!  What kind of strength did my Mamas have?" I thought.   At this time of her life, when I thought she was at one of her weakest moments, she was strong!  Mary had a heart of strength, of giving that I could only stand back and admire her courage because it was never ending.  Her fight with MS was going to end when she decided to stop and no one could take that away from her.  So when I think I can no longer be strong or courageous , I just think of Mary and know that I can.

Mary's New Place

As my parents and I sat in a conference room of the mortuary planning Mary’s services;  my parents decided to have my sister cremated so the process was very new to all of us.  One question the representative asked was, “Does your family want to witness the sealing?”  Well, my parents and I just looked at each other then all at once answered, “What?”  The representative then smiled and started to explain, “After the funeral mass your family would come to the cemetery to have Mary’s remains placed in her niche.  After the priest said his final prayers, your family can place the urn on a table and later on in the day a mortuary employee would place Mary in her niche and seal it closed or your family can actually witness the sealing of the niche.  Which one would you like to choose?”  My parents and I looked at each other and in sequence said, “We’ll witness the sealing.”  Driving back home, my parents and I talked about the to options that were presented at the end.  We all agreed that neither of us would feel comfortable just leaving Mary on a table all alone, it felt just too venerable.

The day was so bright and warm; the sky was a crystal blue as we made our way to the church.  Inside the church it was freezing and cold as friends and family filled it to celebrate Mary’s funeral mass. When the funeral mass was being planned out, my mom and I wanted to focus the funeral mass based on love and the resurrection of Christ.  It made us feel some comfort to know that even though Mary was not with us now, we will one day be all reunited again and our love for her would always be.

So, after the Mary’s funeral mass, my brothers made sure that everyone who attended the service had a map to where the cemetery was located and we all drove off.

From Monterey Park to East Los Angeles really wasn’t too far of a drive but it felt like forever on that morning of November 12, 2010.  As I drove my parents and Mary’s urn, I felt that  I was never going to get to the cemetery. 

I knew it would be the first and last time my sister Mary would be riding with us as a family and even though I knew my sister was gone, it sadden my heart.

At Mary’s niche, there was a small table with a dark red burgundy cloth over it.  Mary’s urn was placed on the table and a picture of her was placed underneath.  This was a beautiful picture of Mary; she looks so content with out a worry in the world.  The bright red frame surrounding her picture had enough room for family and friends to sign it and let Mary know how much they loved her.

After the priest finished praying and handed over the crucifix to my parents, it was done.  The moment had come, the moment were we had to say good-bye to Mary.  As one of my brother’s look for the mortuary employee to seal Mary’s niche, others started to head towards their cars.  One of my dad’s cousins suggests for my parents to go home and he would stay to make sure the niche was sealed.  My parents agree because they wanted to greet and thank the family and friends that were heading towards their home for attending Mary's services.  I looked at my dad’s cousin and asked if I could stay with him then asked my parents if they were okay.  My dad smiled and said” Okay Mija you stay if you wan to, okay?”  “I’ll be here Dad”, I said.

As my dad’s cousin and I sat waiting for the mortuary employee to come and I started to get anxious.  I just wanted to put my sister to rest, to her final rest.  She had suffered so much and for so long that the last few minutes of waiting for a mortuary employee seemed like an eternity to me.

Finally one employee came followed by another a few minutes later.  They had a wooden crate with wheels and rolled it in front of my sister’s niche.  They matched the card with my sister’s information and carefully and respectively placed Mary in her niche.  They then closed it and put a seal around the small plastic door and with a putty knife, smoothed the sealing.  Then, the two men placed the granite slab back on top of Mary’s niche. “It’s done, it’s finished,” I thought to myself.  Mary is finally home and I felt so relieved. Mary is not longer in pain, scared, suffering, hot with fever, cold with chills or feeling alone or abandon but now is truly happy in her eternal life. Mary is now in a place were I know and believe she will be loved in a way she could have never imaged.  Thank you Jesus for embracing and surrounding my sister Mary with your love and assuring us that Mary is in a much better place. To my sister Mary: Just know Mamas that even though you are at a new place, you will always have a special place in my heart.

Forgiveness

When we first moved into the home, my sister knew exactly what bedroom she wanted, “I like the one with the walk-in closet, it’s just like the one I have right now,” she said as we had our first walk through of my parent’s new home. 

My sister had the biggest closet and was very pleased with it.  It made her feel more at home due to the fact that she already had the biggest closet at my parent’s old home.

Be known to us at the time that this walk-in closet would slowly turn into her medical supply room.

There were cases of adult diapers, bed liners, cans of formula, and sponges for her G-Tube.  Among others supplies of medications and vinyl gloves, oxygen tanks, wheel chair, oxygen machine and many other medical supplies to meet my sister’s growing needs

As my sister’s medical needs grew, the supplies were placed in her walk-in closet.  Once a very spacious closet became a very crowded and with time it began to shrink to a very small closet.

I remember the day when I had to move Mary’s burgundy red walker out of her closet.  The little burgundy walker had given my sister the independence of being able to walk on her own.  She loved that walker because it became very important piece of her life. However unfortunately due to time, my sister had already become bed ridden due to the progression of MS and the hospital supplies were coming in monthly.  I felt like I was trying to solve a Rubic’s Cube because the more I moved things around as I tried to keep my sister’s closet looking as a closet for clothing, the more it didn’t.  It kept looking more and more as a medical supply store. 

Till one day I looked at my sister’s red-burgundy walker that sat way in the back of the closet folded up in the corner of her closet.  As I crammed my way into my sister’s closet trying to figure out how I could make more room, I thought,” Well, we won’t be needing this for a while so I just place it in the garage,” so I picked it up and brought it to the opening doorway of my sister’s closet.

I peeked my head out and seen that my sister was fast asleep so I thought it was safe to walk quietly out of her room with her walker.  As I was carrying the folded walker in my hands, tipping toe out of my sister’s room I reached the bedroom doorknob.  I slowly started to turn the knob as quietly as I could and turned to see if my sister was still sleeping. 

Well to my surprise, she wasn’t.  “What are you doing?  Where are you taking my walker?!” demanded my sister.

“Aye, Mamas, you need more room in your closet for all your new stuff.  I’m just going to move your walker out into the garage just for a little while, when you get better, I will bring it back, okay?”  I said, hoping she would believe me that one day she would be better.  I didn’t want my sister to see her walker get moved out of her closet and out of her bedroom because I knew how much it would hurt her to see it done. 

As my sister lay in her bed, her eyes over flowed with tears and her lips just trembled.  I put the walker down and ran to her, cradling her in my arms I said,  “Mamas, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  I didn’t want to hurt you so I thought I would do this when you were asleep.”

“It’s, okay….I know….I know it’s not your fault.  It… just hurts.... it hurts so much to see it leave,” wept my sister.

If there were a way to erase my sister’s pain, I would have done it that instant.   I held my sister until she cried herself to sleep.  Praying all the while that I could have the strength to place her walker in the garage.  I felt horrible; I felt that I just added insult to my sister’s injury.  At that time I knew my sister forgave me for taking her walker to the garage but it took years for me to forgive myself.   

Gratefulness

I have been a bereavement minister for the Los Angeles Archdiocese for over ten year.  Through the ten year I have been through many journeys with families that have lost a loved ones.  However, it wasn’t at my parish where I ministered at but at my place of employment.

Working at a credit union at the time I was going through my bereavement certification, I often thought about how this was going to change and evolve my life.  Once the certification program was completed and I received my certificate, I assisted two families at my parish with making arrangements with the funeral and vital of their loved one who had passed away.  However, as time pass on, I found myself called to minister to families who lost a loved one that were customers at the credit union.  With each family that came to my desk became such a roller coaster ride of emotions. Some people were sad, angry, happy, and solemn.   With every family that came to my desk,

I experienced God’s grace to deal with the family’s needs.

 Every time a deceased account would come into the credit union, I would get a call from the receptionist. 

“We have a deceased account, can you come and take it?” said the receptionist.

“Why me?” I asked. 

She replied, “You’re the bereavement minister, aren’t you?  I know you will be able to take good care of them”,

“I’ll be right up, “ I replied as I hung up the phone and walked up to meet the family.

One of the rules of bereavement ministry is never minister to a loved one who passed in your immediate family.  Also, if you do suffer a loss in your immediate family, you need to separate yourself from bereavement ministry and stop ministering for one year so you can greave and heal from your loss.

When the Parish Life Director asked me if I wanted to conduct the vital and funeral mass for my sister Mary, I was shocked.  I couldn’t believe it but I agreed.  I then asked her for assistance because it had been a while since I actually assisted anyone in the process of planning a vigil and funeral mass.  One Saturday afternoon, the Parish Life Director came to our home and gave me some books, ideas and directions on vigils and funeral masses. 

At first, I thought I was going to be able to do this for my sister with no problem and felt it was just another opportunity for me to be open to where God wants me to go.

However, when my sister did passed way and I had to start the process of planning, it got harder and harder to complete, I kept procrastinating and getting distracted.  I would pick up the vigil book or Catholic Funeral book and for the life of me I could not stay focused.  That is when I felt I was way over my head and  I felt like I was drowning with out any help in sight. It’s ironic how God’s grace works in the most trying times of one's life, even when I think I am at my wits end and can’t go any further.  God picks me up, dusted me off and give me the strength to go one more day.  With the help of my mom, I was able to complete my sister’s vigil and funeral mass.  We sat down and we walked through the whole process together.  Picking each song and reading with great detail and love that would reflect our love for Mary and our faith.   It took everything we had in to complete it and I know I am a stronger person in faith because of it.  The readings, songs, intercession, presenting the offertory gifts were just for the funeral mass and the vigil was another mountain to climb but we climbed it. 

Would I recommend this to anyone else?  At first my first my thought would be “No way!  It’s too hard and emotional to do” However, given the fact that we did it as a family and has brought us closer as a family, I would have to now say it’s really up to the person.  At first, I was lost but with prayer and support from my mom we was able to complete it.  I know this experience has made me a stronger person not only in faith but who I am as a person.  It brought my mom and I closer and I believe that it was through my sister’s intercession and God’s grace that pulled us through and for this I am grateful.

See You Later Mamas

I remember accompanying my parents to the parish rectory to start the planning of Mary's funeral mass.

We talk with the Parish Life Director and went over many details of how many different ways a funeral mass can be celebrated.  We knew as a family that we did not want to dwell on death but focus on Jesus's resurrection.

I remember the Life Director asking me if I had a letter written about my sister.  I thought, "A letter?  It was hard enough to come here in the first place with my parents and you are asking me about a letter?"

I answered, "No, I haven't really given it much thought, it's hard enough seeing my sister in the state she is in and for me to write a letter is too overwhelming for me right now."  The Life Director just smiled at me and said, "Well maybe you might want to think about it later,"  

After the meeting as we were driving home, I thought about what impact my sister had made in my life and I couldn't believe that I had never thanked her.  So, when I go home I when straight to my bedroom and started to write.  It wasn't hard at all for me to pour out my feeling, I just didn't want to confront the pain or the thought of losing her.  After I finished writing, I walked down the hallway to read it to her.  However, as I got closer to my sister's bedroom, my eyes filled with tears, my throat got dried up and I turned right back down the hallway to my bedroom and cried.  I couldn't to it, I couldn't read to my sister the letter I wrote to her.  So for several weeks through out the days and weeks that passed all my attempts in reading this thank you letter to my sister failed. 

At the funeral mass of my sister, I mustered  up the courage and read my thank you letter to my sister.  At the end, I am glad I was able to do it because I knew she is in a better place and can still hear what I wanted to say to her….

Thank you Mary Magdalene for teaching me the true meaning of love,

Thank you for being our sister,

Thank you for sharing your tears and laughter,

Thank you for giving me an opportunity to serve God in a way I could not ever had imagine, it's made me into being a better person,

Thank you for your patience, kindness and consideration towards me as I learned how to tend to all your needs,

Thank you for teaching me the meaning of companionship as you and mom would play the Wii in the wee early mornings.

Thank you for helping mom as you and her would go on your daily driving adventures to Wal-Mart, Jack In The Box or visiting dad while he was healing from his fall,

Thank you for allowing me to change and bath you; you taught me how to be humble and never take anything for granite,

Thank you for being a good listener as you sat quietly and listened to dad tell his stories,

Because of you, my life will never be the same.  I believe that you are truly happy and no longer suffering and now you are truly free.

So why am I sad?  Because I miss you Mamas, you changed my life with out me ever realizing it.  I know my love for you will always be in my heart and mind,

I am so grateful that God loves us so much that He sent his only Son to destroy death for ever,

So while you are looking down from heaven, please know that I am looking up,
knowing that one day we will see each other again.

I love you Mary, I always have and I always will.

See you later Mamas

Thank You card

Months ago, I was fumbling through my closet and found some old keepsakes that were wrapped with a dark purple ribbon. As I looked through them, I fumbled on an old Thank You card.  It had a very simple floral design of faded pink flowers and light mint color leaves that read Thank You in the front of the card.  I opened the card and it read,

“Dear Emilia, With sincere thanks for your kindness, It was appreciated more than words can say,” then signed From Your Sister, Mary Magdalene Rodriguez and it was dated March 9, 2001.  My sister had signed my name, the date and her own name; which meant this card that was given to me was during her healthier and stronger days as she was battling MS.

As I sat on my bed in my room with the card in my hand, I kept reading it over and over again hoping that it would trigger a memory.  However, it didn’t so I started to wonder about what I did to deserve such a beautiful card?  “What did I do? What did I do?”, I kept mumbling to myself. So then, I started to wonder about the date, “What was I doing on March 9^th?  I know I was working, I know I had my car back in 01’ but what did I do?”

I couldn’t remember so I went to the next best resource, my mom.

“Ma, what did I do for Mary in March of 01’?  I found this thank you card and I can’t remember what I did for her?” As I showed my mom the Thank You card, she replied,” I don’t remember.” “That’s great.” I responded with even more frustration. As I walked off I started to realize that the only person I was really frustrated with was myself. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember why I received this card from my sister Mary Magdalene. 

So, I decided to go my sister and see what I might be able to find out.  As I walked into my sister’s bedroom, the MS had already gotten to a point where my sister’s speech was being challenged.  “Mamas, do you remember why you gave me this card?” I asked.

I read it to her and then looked up to see if I got any reactions.  Her eyes filled with tears and she softly said. “No.”  My sister’s memory was becoming harder and harder for her to remember the past but I was hoping that maybe the card might spring a memory of her kindness.  I hugged her and said,” I'm  sorry  Mamas. I didn't mean to make you cry, I was just wondering if you remember why you gave me this card and I just want to say thank you.  I am going to keep it on my meditation table along with my statues of Santos, ok?” she smiled and whispered, “okay.”

To this day, I still don’t’ remember why I received this card from my sister but looking back in the last three years, I should have given her a Thank You card.  Thanking her for giving me the opportunity to serve in a way that I never thought I could be able to serve and helping me to grow to be a better person. 

So here is my Thank You card to my sister Mary Magdalene Rodriguez.

My Dearest Mary,

Thank you for being my sister and helping me to grow and see life with such love, faith, patience and kindness.  You have made me flourish in ways that I could have never imagined. 

I love you very much!

Your sister,

Emils

Miss you much!

Today was my 34-year-old sister's birthday; she would have been thirty-five years old.  She was born on the feast of All Souls Day; little did any of us know that her passing would only be five days before her birthday.  My parents and family went to the liturgy of All Souls Day at our Catholic Church in Monterey Park.  My 34-year-old sister's name was on one of the banners that hung in front of the alter of the church.  The names were of the parishioners who have passed away this year.  As I stared at her name on the banner, I kept looking but it didn't seem real.  People of our parish walked up to my family to give their condolences of the passing of my sister.  I hugged and yet it still didn't feel real, it felt like I was in a dream, a very slow moving dream.  As the liturgy was being celebrated, after the gospel was read and the priest gave his homily, it was time for the litany of the deceased.  As every five names were being read off there was a pause, then the congregation would sing “Holy men and women, pray for us!”

At first, I was singing and reflecting on each of the names that were being read off the banners.  However, the emotions started  to crack inside of me like a dam with a small leak.  As the names got closer to my sister’s name, the cracks of emotions got bigger and the emotional dam weakened.  The tears started to fill my eyes and my lips began to tremble and my voice started to crack.  Now, since my sister passed away on Oct 29^th, everyday seems like a bad dream and I wanted to pinch myself to wake up.  Standing in the church on that day made this dream a very hard reality.  As I heard my sister’s name read over the PA system, my tears exploded like a dam bursting from too many cracks, which gave way to over flowing water.  I guess I need to be more patient with myself and just take time to greave.  Just when I think I am all out of tears and have my emotions in control and lower my defenses, I have a break down.  The only person I am fooling is myself if I think I can keep it all together.  Right now, the grief is like a very bad cold, every time I think I am getting better I have a relapse.  

I miss my 34-year-old sister so much, when I would have a tuff day, she would be the one who would offer me a hug.  When she couldn’t hug anymore due to the progression of MS, I would lay my head on her chest and she would kiss my forehead three times and then say, “It’ll be alright Emils, don’t cry,” as I would soak her pajamas with my tears.

Now, when I having bad day I have no one to cry to, no shoulder to cry and lean on and it kills me.    Even though I was caregiver for my sister, I know my sister returned the favor and cared for me.  With her love, strength, compassion, patience and kindness that only a sister can give she was a great teacher of human care and warmth.  I love you Kiddo!  

The New Journey Begins.....

On the day my thirty-year-old sister decided to rest in heaven; it was one of the hardest times in my family’s lives.  The nurse from the hospice came in the darkness of the morning to pronounce my sister leaving us and to call the mortuary so my sister can be picked up.  A few hours past, my mom, dad and sister were able to give their final farewell.  I remember thinking that I would not have the courage to remove my sister’s earrings but I did.   I thought I would not have the courage to see my sister off but I did.  As I stroked my sister’s hair, it hit me that I was not going to be able to do this after today and my throat choked and my eyes filled with tears.  Her hair was so soft, thick and had a beautiful streak of silver in her hair.  Every stroke I did just brought back all the memories of my sister all at once and it was too much for me to bear.

So I walked outside in the darkness and cool of the morning and waited with my dad for the mortuary to come to our home.

Two white vans with tinted windows pulled up the drive way and the drivers who wore black double vested suits got off and walked towards our home.  They gave their condolences and gave us their business cards and introduced themselves as being from the mortuary and explained what were the procedures in removing my sister.  They ask where my sister was at so my dad and I let them in our home to my sister’s bedroom.   We were told that my sister would be wrapped in a white sheet, covered with a black cover and placed on a seven-foot gurney.  Once on the gurney, she would be strapped securely and placed in the van and be taken to the mortuary.   One of the mortuary’s employees told us that we might want to remove ourselves because this can cause a very emotional state.  So my mom and my 40-year-old sister sat on the other side of the house while my dad and I watched my sister being prepared to take her final journey. 

Going to the mortuary and cemetery with my parents was such an emotional rollercoaster because to the employees; it’s a business so money was the only thing that mattered to them.

Coming home from the mortuary , I wanted to make sure that all medical equipment that was used by my sister was pick up from our home.  Later on that evening, another van drove up to our home to pick up the medical equipment.  The driver was a young man and he was by himself, I said, “You all alone, do you need any assistance in taking the medical equipment out?” he answered, “No, Miss.  I can do it.”  Out went the hospital table, oxygen tanks, wheel chair, oxygen machine and last by not least her hospital bed.  

I kept on insisting to help the young man but he refused.  So I sat in my sister’s room and just watched.  Thinking to myself, “I know somebody’s else can really use this air mattress bed.  I hope it helps someone else just like it helped my sister.”

However, the second the bed started to get disassembled my emotions started to get the best of me.  “Keep it together Emils, remember she said that she is okay”.  The "she" whom I was refereeing to was my 34- year-old-sister who just passed away.  I wanted so badly to touch the head board of the bed, I don't know why but this urge was very strong and I didn't have the courage to do it.

“Clang!”, went the bed as I watched; I felt a rush of tears so I just closed my eyes.  “Bang!”,  went another piece of the bed, I grabbed my sister’s Eeyore and kept my eyes closed.  The tears flowed non-stop from my eyes as my throat started to choke.

I felt as the bed was being taken apart so was my heart, piece by piece my heart was being disassembled and I had no way of stopping it.  At the end, when the young man asked me to sign the document to show that the medical equipment was being returned, he said” I sorry about your lose.”.  I signed the paper and watched him walked out of my sister’s bedroom.  Suddenly, there was such a rush of emotions that I thought my heart was going to drop out of my body.  I screamed,” Where is my Mamas?  I want her back! I want her home. I miss her!  Where is she going to sleep if her bed is gone?”, I couldn’t stop crying if my life depended on it.  I didn’t want my sister back if she was sick; I just wanted her back! 

When the bed was gone, the grief hit me with such force that I will never forget it.  Now that I look back, I realize that no matter how much I thought I was “okay”, I wasn’t.  It’s going to be a long and painful road to recovery and I know my life will never be the same.  The only consolation I have comes from know my sister is not suffering anymore and knowing that one day we will see each other again.