racoma.com.phJ. Angelo Racoma on technology, economics, writing, problogging, and getting things done

Last Friday, October 3, 2008 marked the first anniversary of our son Joseph Michael’s passing on to the next life. It has been one year since he left us. He was exactly forty-five days old when he died.

Forty-five days isn’t much for a lifetime. It’s barely two months. It’s too short a time for any one of us, and so we are all ancient in comparison. But in hindsight my family has come to realize that each and every one of those days, each and every one of those hours, those minutes, those moments, were important to us, and had taught us life lessons that we may never have learned otherwise.

Joseph Michael was born at a time when my family’s life was at a crossroad. We had just begun to attain that certain level of material comfort in our lives. We just moved to a better place, acquired our first car, and my online jobs and businesses were just starting to improve. And so we thought we were on our way to a good life.

However, when Michael arrived, it was at first a bit difficult for us in terms of material needs. Considering the costs of delivery (Caesarean, and in the hands of one of the country’s best obstetricians), we had to spend those few weeks in simple living. Those were challenging times. Those were hard times. But then were able to overcome that, and things started to become better again.

We didn’t realize the challenges were not yet over. We woke up in the early morning of October 3rd and found our son seemingly lifeless. He was not breathing. We tried to revive him, and rushed him to the hospital as fast as we could. The doctors tried to revive him, but the attempts were futile.

Our son had passed away.

We didn’t know exactly what time he breathed his last. We never opted for an autopsy. Having a loved one cut apart would only add to the pain. Michael was a healthy baby boy, and a lively one at that. And perhaps knowing the exact cause of his death would add even more to the pain (in fear that it could be directly our faults, perhaps).

We didn’t know exactly how it happened, but one thing we remember that time was that my wife awoke at past midnight that day, and shared with me a very vivid dream she had. It was about the two of us carrying a white box and standing in line to board a big plane. People in white had been eager to help us and carried the box for us, marking it with a very distinct number 7. The box was carried onto the plane, and the next thing we knew we were standing on some very wide plains, with lush greenery.

We thought the dream meant that we were about to travel, to migrate or simply to go places—something that she and I had been talking about previously. Little did we know that somehow that dream meant more than traveling physically.

My eldest daughter awoke that midnight, too, and asked me to accompany her in bed because she was scared. I assured here there was nothing to be afraid of and accompanied her. But I would open my eyes only a few hours later and the worst fears of a parent would materialize.

It was the lowest point in our lives. We could not understand why this had happened to us, nor could we find out the reasons—the whys and hows—our son had to leave us early in his life.

No father should ever have to bury his son.

That being the lowest point in our lives, however, we realized there was no way but up. And look up, we did. Having no longer any control in this life over the life of my son, my family and I turned to God. While I have had a religious upbringing thanks to my father, it is only now that my wife, children and I have learned to appreciate faith. We have learned to practice faith, and share it, and try to live what we learn.

Early in life, our two girls have had a concept of death and dying. It is in these times that we also try to impart with them a concept of the afterlife. They still ask us questions, though. The whys. The hows. Those we could not answer. But they do understand far better than other children their age do.

We no longer mourn. In losing someone the pain never goes away. You only learn to live with it. In our living with this loss we now try to see things in a more positive light. We have grown more mature, more discerning. We have grown more faithful, and more active in our faith. For this is the only way we know through which we can be reunited with our son Joseph Michael once again. And of course, it is how it should be, for we believe our son was a gift to us by God in the first place.

This experience has humbled us greatly. But it has taught us to value life more. It has taught us to value our family more. And it has taught us to value our time more. We are born to this world naked and with empty hands. But God gives us gifts so that we may create and do good things. We have but limited time to accomplish this—some of us have more, while some less. Therefore the time to act is now because you never know when your time is up.

Our dear Joseph Michael, we shall meet again one day. But until then do pray for our family that we may continue to be strong and faithful on this journey called life.

Tomorrow, August 20th, 2008, we commemmorate the first birth anniversary of our son, Joseph Micahel, who has joined our Creator ahead of us all. For those who wish to join us in commemorating this event, the following masses will be held in his honor:

1. Parish of the Holy Sacrifice, UP Campus, Diliman, Quezon City – 6:00 a.m., 12:00 noon, 6:00 p.m.


2. Our Lady of Pentecost Parish, Varsity Hills, Loyola Heights, Quezon City – 6:0 a.m., 6:30 p.m.


3. Santa Maria Della Strada Parish, Katipunan Rd., Quezon City- 6:00 a.m., 6:00 p.m.


4. Immaculate Heart of Mary Parish (Claret Church), UP Village, Quezon City – 6:30 a.m., 6:00 p.m.


5. Lord of the Divine Mercy Parish, Sikatuna Village, Quezon City – 6:00 a.m., 6:00 p.m.


6. Parish of the Holy Family, Kamias, Quezon City – 6:30 p.m.


7. Immaculate Conception Cathedral Parish (Diocese Cathedral), Cubao, Quezon City – 6:00 a.m., 7:00 a.m., 6:00 p.m.


8. Divine Word Mission Seminary Parish (Christ the King), E. Rodriguez Ave., Quezon City – 5:30 a.m., 6:30 a.m., 6:00 p.m.


9. Mount Carmel Shrine, New Manila, Quezon City – 6:00 a.m., 6:00 p.m.


10. San Nicolas de Tolentino Parish, Congressional, Quezon City – 6:00 a.m., 6:00 p.m.


11. Our Lady of Mount Carmel Parish, Project 6, Quezon City – 6:00 a.m., 6:00 p.m.


12. Our Lady of Hope Parish, Pag Asa, Quezon City – 6:00 a.m., 6:00 p.m.

We would like to thank everyone who have helped us and who had been with us during our time of difficulty, and who continue to support us.

Joseph Michael
Our Angel

You came to us
God’s loving gift
Our baby boy
Our source of joy.

You gave us love
The purest kind
Your perfect smile
Your touch so mild.

We had our hopes
Our dreams, our plans
Until one day
God reached out His hand.

He called you home
He needed you
To join His host of Angels
So mighty, so strong.

You said, “Yes Lord.”
Then bid us good bye
“I’ll watch over you
From heaven up high.”

Dear Joseph Michael
Our baby, our Angel
You are God’s gift to us
And you are our gift to God.

We love you,
Daddy Joseph Angelo
Mommy Caren Marie
Ate Sofia Bernice
Ate Agatha Clarisse

Joseph Michael G. Racoma
20 August-3 October 2007

This is a poem written by us, Angelo and Caren, for our baby boy Joseph Michael.

(image source)

Dear all,

Our youngest son, Joseph Michael G. Racoma, passed away this morning. He was one month and thirteen days old. Your prayers would be much appreciated.

Sincerely,

J. Angelo, Caren, Pia and Cate Racoma

Update: Thanks to everyone who commented, wrote about our loss, and/or visited. I’m not much online these days, but you can get in touch with us via my mobile phone listed in the sidebar.

Our son lies in state at the Resurrection Chapel at the Claret Church (Immaculate Heart of Mary Parish) in UP Village, Diliman Quezon City.

Again, thank you for your prayers and words of support.

– The Racoma family

Update: Mass today (Friday) will be at 9:00 p.m. Mass tomorrow will be at 11:30 a.m., after which we will head on to the Loyola Memorial Park in Marikina City at about 1:30 p.m. for interment.

Thank you for your words of support and for your prayers. Our beloved Joseph Michael is in heaven now, and we turn to him for intercession. Please pray for our family.

I’ve taken some time offline this week, mostly from work (building kick-ass sites, apps and blogs) as my wife and I had just given birth to a healthy baby boy. This would be our third child, and our only boy (so far, and most likely will stay that way). Aside from the hospital not having a reliable connection—I can only log in either via dialup or GPRS, which are very slow—I’m focusing on my family and taking care of hospital errands. It’s not so easy now that there are also two little ones we also have to tend to.

So it’s another blogging hiatus for now—as if I’m even able to post here regularly. You can still, of course, check out my other sites and projects, most particularly those under Splashpress Media (where I am now formally known as Editor in Chief), like the Blog Herald, Performancing, Cutline, Tubetorial and the like. I may not always have my name on the bylines there, but I’m involved in many ways in the sidelines (or the background).

If you need anything urgent—well, I don’t think anything is more urgent than the things I’m taking care of right now—you know where to reach me.

P.S. Linux sucks quite a bit when it comes to dialup networking and GPRS! I had too boot up to Windows.