Silence. Peace.
"Remember what peace there may be in silence." I have found consolation in these words from Max Ehrmann's " Desiderata " during the wake and burial of my great grandmother Consuelo Macaraeg, who died last week. Two words from that line struck me at once: silence and peace . Silence. On so many different occasions in the life of Grandma has silence played a vital role. Grandma was living in Canada when I was a kid, and every year she would come back home and stay at our place for a couple of weeks. My earliest memories of her were not as fond as I hoped it would be. In fact, I hated when she stayed at our house. I was at that phase in my childhood where I started to answer back to my parents and elders. And every time she heard me answering back, she got really mad. She chased me all around the house with a large pair of scissors in hand, threatening to cut my tongue unless I kept silent. Fortunately for her, it worked. But unfortunately for