Friday, November 1, 2013

A toast to the memory of departed beloveds

Do not stand at my grave and weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

-Mary Elizabeth Frye

Urn of sculptor Jerry Araos(+)

Nieves and SV Epistola (+) flank National Artist Jose Maceda(+)

Lola Purang(+) at her Brookside home, Baguio City

Daddy(+), Christmas of 1965, with his family

Jane Server Banzhaf(+)

Auntie Pacing(+), Lolo Lucky(+)and Lola(+), seated. Except for Auntie Fe, all the persons in the back row are gone (Uncle Ramon, Dad, Uncles Esting and Celso)


Rico Manlapaz(+) at his Antipolo home


Gigi Custodio(+) one lunchtime at the Glorietta

Lucrecia "King" Kasilag(+), fourth from left, and Odette Alcantara(+), second from right

May we be reunited with our huge family of departed blood relatives and friends in heaven. Meanwhile, a toast of sparkling, bubbly water to their memory.

Love, Babeth
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