‘Shining through,’ even after they’ve gone

Once more, my eyes welled up with tears as I read Conrado de Quiros’ column “Shining through” (Inquirer, 4/11/13) which was about his niece Katrina, who died of a heart problem a few days ago.

It really is true that there is no word for the pain a parent feels in losing a child. There is nothing that can compare with the grief and anguish a parent goes through in such an experience … as I continue to experience since I lost my youngest daughter, Hazel, in 2011, also to a heart problem while she was undergoing dialysis. I felt helpless, angry, guilty, alone, uncaring, useless, detached and could not understand the unthinkable uselessness of it all—that one so young and in the prime of her life, just like Katrina, would be gone forever. My daughter, older than Katrina by 13 years, was then just beginning to enjoy the happiest first 10 months of her married life when she got seriously ill.

As I continued reading De Quiros’ column, I relived the anguish and pain I felt during the cremation and wake of my daughter, when my other children and I had to attend to visitors, relatives and friends whom De Quiros described as “ordinary people made extraordinary by their giving as much as their grieving, by their laughter at their recollection as much as their grieving at their loss.” I thank De Quiros for saying “some people could be so present even when they’re gone” because, truly, I see my daughter always with me in my sleep, in church during Mass, in little things that I do every day, even though she’s gone.—CELIA G. DE LUNA, retired government employee and senior citizen, nay_deluna@yahoo.com