by Ligia Houben | Feb 25, 2021 | Blog US
I feel your essence all around.
Your clothes are impregnated with your smell.
Your smile is the constant in your photos.
Your faith lives in me and it is my rock.
Your joy is the inspiration to welcome every day.
Your perseverance is my engine for dealing with obstacles.
Your love for life is the source of my smile.
Your resilience is the motivation to overcome challenges.
Your love for God and the Virgin lives in me.
It is because of this feeling that I honor your memory and I can confirm,
that you are still alive in my heart and soul.
Your love will always live within me.
Your daughter,
Ligia del Carmen
by Ligia Houben | Feb 17, 2021 | Blog US
Pain is inevitable. Suffering is Optional.
Haruki Murakami
Often in our lives, we go through situations that may cause us pain, and instead of letting go of this pain, we keep it in our hearts and ask ourselves, Why me? It is natural and human to resist pain; however, if you continue asking ourselves that question, we may stay stuck in the suffering.
If we keep it in our hearts, we continue feeding the pain instead of lessening it, and it becomes more significant, stronger, and more powerful. It may even control our moods, our interpersonal relationships, and the quality of our lives.
Do you want this to happen? Do you want to perpetuate this feeling in your heart? Or are you ready to let go of past losses or regrets? It depends on what you want. It will depend if you open your heart and welcome the possibility of being happier or if you remain to be stuck, bitter, and upset.
The first thing you can do to let go of any suffering is deciding to let it go. Keep in mind that we do not have control over many events in our lives. However, we always have control over our thoughts. After validating and processing your pain (writing, talking to someone, doing some rituals), choose an emotion you want to feel instead. At this moment, I am grieving the loss of my beloved mother. I know facing a significant loss is painful, still, because I want to continue honoring her, I choose to have peace in my heart.
How can you transform your suffering?
What emotion do you want to experience instead?
As you transform your loss, you transform your life.
Ligia M. Houben
www.the11principlesoftransformation.com
by Ligia Houben | Jan 22, 2021 | Blog US
Don’t Tell me
It’s about time you didn’t feel that way;
You’ve been mourning for too long;
Don’t keep going to the cemetery;
It’s not good for you to talk so much about her;
She wouldn’t like to see you cry;
She’s now resting/
Tell me better
I accompany you in your pain;
I’m here in case you need to talk;
I understand it’s painful to lose such a close loved one;
I don’t know what to tell you, I’m just listening;
I support you in whatever you need me.
What I need is your understanding, not your judgment…
Your affection, not your imposition…
Your support, not your criticism…
What I need are your friendly hand and your big heart.
Ligia M. Houben
A bereaved daughter
by Ligia Houben | Jan 8, 2021 | Blog US
On the last night of 2020, I suddenly realized the year had taken the last year of your life; it was taking the final moments I shared with you. The last laughs, the last hugs, the last looks, the last prayers. 2020 ripped from the depths of my heart, your physical presence; however, your essence has remained in every corner of my soul, as in every corner of my home.
It is present in our family conversations, in church during Sunday’s mass, in visits to the cemetery, in my visits to Macy’s, to Walgreens, to Publix. It is present in every place I visited either with you or to buy something for you. 2020 took your last moments of life, and as I realized that, my heart turned upside down.
However, I turned my gaze to the year just to begin, 2021, and my face brightened up with a smile. I felt an illusion in my heart and a reborn purpose as it was filled with meaning. This year, I am going to share your story. This year, I will finish the project that I started a few months after your departure to heaven.
I will complete my project of portraying your life, your laughter; your love; your enthusiasm, and your achievements; I will share your philosophy. It is a celebration of your life to keep your legacy in our family. You were sunshine, a remarkable human being, and I want to portray your essence between stories and photos.
As was my father’s project that you enjoyed so much when I gave it to you, this project fills every fiber of my being with enthusiasm.
It fills me with meaning; fills me with purpose.
This is the main reason to welcome this year with joy and with an open heart, full of hope, for I will make your life immortal in a book.
Love
Ligia del Carmen
by Ligia Houben | Dec 28, 2020 | Blog US
What a joy it is Christmas! These were my mom’s words every time December came. This time of the year had a special magic for her, and she used to look forward to it. My memories go back to my childhood when we lived in Nicaragua. The Christmas tree was silver and decorating it with blue and silver ornaments was a ritual full of excitement between my mother and us, her three daughters. She decorated the entire house with Christmas motifs and put a beautiful nativity scene. My mother kept this unique feeling for the Christmas season all her life and transmitted it to each one of us.
This year, when December was approaching, I felt my heart heavy because I knew that this Christmas would be very different. Like so many of my dear clients who have lost a loved one and it is their first Christmas without them, I found myself dreading the proximity of this holiday. I was not thinking about Thanksgiving because this celebration was not crucial to my mother; I was thinking of Christmas. I was in a swing of emotions, and ambivalent about how to navigate the season. Was I going to ignore it so I would not think about it, or was I going to embrace it and create moments of magic honoring my mother?
I opted for the second possibility because it was what came from my heart. I don’t like to ignore any emotion, because I know that I will have it internally even if I do not want it, which prevents me from processing it and letting go. I decided to face it with an open heart and celebrate it in a different way. I opened my heart to the possibility of welcoming Christmas amid the pain of not having my mother physically by my side. I created rituals with her to have magical moments; moments full of peace; moments dedicated to the meaning of Christmas. Every time my heart felt like crying for not having her by my side, I allowed myself to do so and be sad. However, I didn’t stay there. I would once again fill my soul with her spirit of joy towards this magical time, to continue honoring her.
Finally, December 24 arrived, when we celebrated Christmas Eve with a family dinner. I experienced a mixture of emotions in my heart. I felt a great nostalgia for the physical absence of my mother and, at the same time, a beautiful feeling to be able to share with my family because it was also a way of feeling love, support, and solidarity. In the middle of the celebration, we had a special moment to share how we felt, and I took the opportunity to name my mother in a very emotional way. I wanted to emphasize that even though she was not with us physically, her spirit, like my father’s spirit, would continue to be present in our family because the relationship with our loved ones does not end; it is transformed.
This Christmas was different. I did not hear those words filled with joy; I did not see those sparkling eyes filled with hope and expectation; I did not feel her loving hug. However, my beloved mother was present at every moment. And it was precisely this love, this union, this constant presence, that filled my heart with peace and joy, and I could say from the bottom of my soul, “Have a blessed Christmas!”
I accompany you with my heart if this was also your First Christmas…
Remember, our loved ones live in our hearts.
Love
Ligia M. Houben
by Ligia Houben | Dec 19, 2020 | Blog US
In our lives, we meet people that make a difference. Dr. Howard Winokeur was someone who touched my life in a memorable and meaningful way.
I met Howard when I joined ADEC (the Association for Death, Education, and Counseling) almost 15 years ago. I remember walking in the hallway on my way to a seminar when I saw this gentleman with the most welcoming smile on his face coming my way. He introduced himself, and through his warmth and comfortable presence, he made me feel at home. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship as we kept communication regularly until ten days before his passing. I didn’t know he was sick; therefore, when I read the news through an email from ADEC, my heart froze. I was shocked and numbed. I read the email three times to be able to comprehend what had happened. I could not believe that this man, who just a few days before had told me on the phone he was on his way to a Tennis match, had died. What had happened? He had contracted Covid-19 and took his last breath at home. My heart sank with so many memories coming to my mind and soul.
I remembered his joy and wittiness, his passion for life, and his love for music. I remembered how he played the guitar at ADEC conferences. Through his music, he lifted our spirits and made us cry and laugh. His wittiness was incomparable. He had a unique combination of humor and compassion. I remember that when my mother died six months ago, he called me to hold a loving space for me. We spoke for almost an hour. Just before hanging up, he made a funny and cute comment, and I laughed. He also laughed and said, “now, you can say I made you laugh in the midst of your pain”; this was Howard. He had a way to turn things around with love and care.
As a professional in the field of grief and loss, he was brilliant. 
He wrote several books and was an international presenter. His work was recognized through numerous awards. He embodied the grief professional you want to have next to you: compassionate, caring, loving, and hopeful. Something I loved about him was his desire to lead by example. He talked about self-care, and he paid attention to his needs. He regularly played tennis, meditated, and did Yoga. Every year he fastened for two weeks. He believed in having a balanced life.
When he was ADEC president, we had the annual conference in Miami, Fl, where I reside. This conference was a special one. It was combined with the International Conference on Grief and Bereavement in Contemporary Society. He was very excited about this event and dedicated himself to make it memorable. We visited different organizations that could support him or be interested in participating. It was a success, and it meant a lot to him.
As a colleague, I trusted him with my heart. When I was a PESI presenter with my seminar Transforming Grief and Loss, I could not deliver my seminar a couple of times due to health issues.
I called him to see if he could support me in presenting on my behalf. He made the time as he knew my 11 Principles of Transformation® were very special to me, and I trusted him with them. He said to me, “I know they are your baby. Don’t worry, just tell me how you want me to present them”; this was typical of Howard. The last time he presented the seminar was in May, and he did it in Zoom, as live seminars were canceled due to the pandemic. I had the pleasure of sharing some time with him at the beginning of the Zoom presentation. The way he introduced me will always stay in my heart.
Howard impacted my life and the lives of the many people he touched through his teachings and his love.
He made a difference in this world and will be missed.
ADEC and the world are grieving this loss; however, his legacy continues touching our hearts.
He is an inspiration for all of us. Howard, you continue living in our hearts!
