Remember the Good

My mother died ten years ago today - May 17th, 2012.

For those of you who've lost a loved one, you know we are part of a unique "club" that no one wants to be a part of joining.

The Club for Those Left Behind.

Membership has its disadvantages.

A broken heart.

Things left unsaid that should have been.

Endless regrets.

In front of King Neptune - Virginia Beach, Virginia, November 13, 2010

In light of Mental Health Awareness Month, I can tell you that grief is something that screws up your well-being emotionally and physically, even long after someone passes away.

You never fully "recover" from the death of a loved one.

My mom was my rock. My voice of pragmatism for an emotional young adult who thought the world was against him.

She gave me dating, savings, and life advice...

...and I ignored most of it for the better part of my 20s and 30s.

She was also a Tiger Mom at times, stubborn and steadfast in her ways. We even butted heads for several years as my first marriage split us apart. (More on my Tiger Parenting and my first marriage in my previous entry here.)

However, we made our amends after I divorced and before she passed.

My mother's death a decade ago (while fading slowly into the distance with time) will never fade from my heart.

And yet, I have found a way to make it hurt a little less...

Remember the good.

Uncle Dave, Auntie Rose, mom, and me - Nov. 13, 2010

I remember the pic above, taken a few days before my birthday in 2010. It was the first time I ever saw my mom tipsy after drinking a pina colada. Her sister Rose and brother-in-law Dave were visiting from Brisbane, Australia.

I remember the last birthday I celebrated with mom (below) on January 3, 2012. I had a few friends come over and share some cupcakes with her. She was so happy to talk with them all.

Me, dad, and my friends (Catherine, Sarah, and Cait) celebrating my mom's 69th birthday, Jan. 3, 2012.

I had the great fortune to spend one last Mother's Day with my mom (no pics, unfortunately, my dumbass forgot to take them). She had never had pho before, so I brought some to her house and we ate it together.

I can't even recall the conversation we had, but I remembered how much she was in good spirits and sipping her soup calmly.

(And, she loved it!)

I remember the Wednesday night after Mothers Day she wasn't doing so well and had trouble breathing and talking.

My dog, Sasha, would whine at the side of her bed and I would have to push her off because she kept trying to jump on to lick her.

My good girl, Sasha, saying "Hello" to mom. (RIP, Sasha Bear)

I remember laying next to my mom for a bit and just holding her hand for about an hour. I had to work in the morning, so as I left I kissed her on her forehead and said, "I love you."

I remember her telling me in her weak but motherly voice, "Be good."

My brother called me at 4:30 a.m. to tell me I had to come to the hospital. It wasn't long after I arrived that they admitted her and brought her into a room upstairs.

At around 9:00 a.m. a nurse looks at her vitals, checks her responsiveness, and tells us calmly, "I'm sorry, but you all have to prepare for the worst. You need to say your goodbyes while you can."

We all lost it.

I remember reaching out to a few friends to let them know where I was and what was happening.

One of them, Sarah (yup, the same one from the pic above), called off work to get to the hospital. She had lost her mother suddenly a few years prior, and she knew what it was like to be a part of "The Club."

And when the on-call minister read the last rites and the nurses put the injection into her IV on queue as he wrapped up the prayer, I heard my mom give out one final sigh.

It was 1:30 p.m. exactly.

Sarah hugged me tight. I was still in disbelief at what was happening. I collapsed and let all my rage, sadness, and confusion leave me.

I sobbed for a good five minutes, and when the pain subsided she suggested we leave to clear my head.

We went to a local cafe where we talked about our moms and their lives. She listened as I cried or laughed about the stories I shared.

I still remember two songs that played as I was talking to her.

Hello by Lionel Richie (because I paused mid-sentence reminiscing about my mom and asked, "Why is this damn song playing right now?!?!" and we both busted out laughing.)

Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town by Pearl Jam. I will always associate today with this song. Its melancholy tune and lyrics always make me feel reflective and (surprisingly) cheers me up.

When Eddie sings the bridge...

I just want to scream, "Hello

My god, it's been so long, never dreamed you'd return

But now here you are, and here I am"

Hearts and thoughts they fade away

...I imagine myself seeing my mom at the doorway of her house saying those words, smiling at me.

It makes the pain bearable.

The memories of my mom remind me of how she'd like me to carry on and be happy.

I remember to...

???Always see the good in people.

???Take loads of pictures with your family and friends. You will never regret seeing their smiles.

??Always try to see how you could be the root of an issue, then make amends.

???Save at least $20 every paycheck for a rainy day.

???Forgive but never forget.

???Never hold a grudge. (Yes, it sounds paradoxical from the previous statement, but it isn't. It's called "detachment with love.")

???Appreciate the family and friends who were there for you on your life-changing days as much as the mundane ones.

??? Make sure your loved ones remember you like I remember my mom. Hold them close and treasure the time you spend with them.

??? Always tell your friends and family, "I love you" before hanging up or parting with them.

If you're part of The Club and you had a special relationship with a loved one, you know exactly where I'm coming from.

You want to hear their voice one more time. I've saved a few of my mom's voicemails to hear her curse me out under her breath in Tagalog for not answering the phone or invite me over for dinner. Usually it was both in the same message.

You wish they were here to see how you're doing. (Mom, you would have LOVED Florida!)

You wish they could have spent time with your kid and met them at least once because they were SO INSISTENT on having grandbabies.

If you haven't been inducted into this somber membership, consider yourself lucky.

Give your parents and loved ones extra hugs today.

Tell them every day how much you appreciate them.

Savor each and every moment from now until they're gone so that you remember every single great memory with them.

Because when that day does come when they're no longer here, you'll wail and shout and roar and plead and beg for them to come back.

And the storm will return on occasion, even if a decade has passed.

In the most unexpected moments, your heart will break again over and over again.

Or you'll shed a tear and smile.

And [SPOILER ALERT] it will happen to you for the rest of your life.

But the memories you make with them starting today will help you carry your grief and allow you to hold on to them always.

They will anchor you as Sarah did for me that day.

They will bring you back from the edge so you can smile instead of mourn.

Make those memories.

Remember the good.

And if the pain ever gets too unbearable, find family, friends, or a therapist to help alleviate your sorrow.

(And if all else fails, know you can reach out to me.)

Don't ever feel like you're alone.

Here's to my mom, Leticia "Letty" Calo.

I miss you every single day.

Say hi to Sasha for me. I hope she's giving you lots of kisses.

Beckett, Dana, and Obi say, "Hello."

Leticia S. Calo (January 3, 1943 - May 17, 2012)

???? ↙??? ↘?↗??????

If you like this post:

?? Please comment, subscribe to, or share this newsletter.

?? Ring the ?? on my profile to follow me and my journey as a Filipino-American digital media entrepreneur

??? Reach out to me if you need any help (or just a friend), and...

???? ???????????? ???????? ?????? ????, ???????????? ???????? ???? ?????????? ???? ???????? ???????? (?????? ????????????). ??

#BeGood #RememberTheGood #MentalHealthAwarenessMonth #MentalHealth #Grief #LevelUpYourGame #ProfessionalNerd