After a week in Baguio, we finally returned to Clark for a late-night flight back to Cebu. While traversing the TPLEX, a colleague suggested visiting some heritage destinations. The idea resonated with everyone, and we all agreed to stop at the Our Lady of Manaog to offer a prayer and candles. Well, the signage says that the Church is at the next exit of the expressway, but it took us a while to get there as it was a bit farther than expected. We arrived late in the morning at the Church.

More than a year ago, I paused writing.My mom died. She was always there to support and encourage me to do things that enabled me to succeed. When I lost her, I felt empty, as if a part of my life had been sucked away. On the night of November 26th, 2023, we lost her. Despite challenges and struggles, what was once a happy household lost its light. The night she died replays over and over in my head for so long, until now, I still cry out of the blue. I witnessed her last breath and how the paramedic arrived just after she had her last breath. That night, I did not cry, and not even during the wake. I had to be the strength my family needed in a sorrowful time. It takes a week after when I shed my tears. I just broke down in the comfort room. Perhaps regrets not giving her a much better life and longing for everything about her dominate as I shed my tears. It's good to have cried and not bottled up that emotion. It was not suitable for my anxieties, as it may become worse if I hadn't cried.

What is the point of allowing ourselves to be so busy that we trade away the things that make us whole? What a relief it was for my working hours to end: there was still work lying around to start, but no responsibility to be available. I'm still trying to persuade myself that I don't have to feel guilty if I don't check into Slack at least once. I attempt to relax it by breathing into it like a tense muscle. But here is the change, the stretch. I did myself a favor for once.

When it came to fortune reading, I had always been skeptical. It appeared to me to be nothing more than a game of chance, a means for charlatans to prey on the unsuspecting. Yet when my pals bragged about a fortune teller who could read your heart by staring at an empty coffee cup, I couldn't help but be intrigued. So, on a whim, I decided to go see for myself.

"Well, I lost myself in other's melodies I was singing songs that were never meant for me I tried to heal everyone's heartache but my own Hiding behind their grief so I didn't feel alone."from Other's Melodies by GattonThat was Gatton singing Other's Melodies through my headphones as I sat inside Basilica Minori Del Sto Nino on Maundy Thursday—Visita Iglesia was something I hadn't done in a while. Growing up around religious people, Visita Iglesia is a tradition and a Lenten practice to visit seven churches for penance and sacred vows from Maundy Thursday to Good Friday. I'm an oddball, though, more spiritual than religious, but I still respect our traditions. I find the practice beyond what rituals are. It is a conversation with ourselves to know what we can change and can not, taking a leap of faith in uncertainty and the monotony of life.

The cold fall breeze touched my cheeks and whispered whispers in my ear as I strolled into the woodland. The birds were singing in unison. The rustling of the leaves beneath my feet created incomprehensible rhymes that echoed through the trees. The colorful tapestry of reds, oranges, and yellows of the leaves decorated the woodland with the energy of life.