Sunday:
Guided by Grace: A Cool Travel Mom Journey with the Blessed Virgin Mary
A Legacy of Love and Faith
Some journeys are not just about reaching a destination — they are about fulfilling a promise, honoring a legacy, and embracing faith along the way. This particular Cool Travel Mom journey was one deeply rooted in devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary and my father’s unfulfilled bucket list. It was an intentional family trip to the Philippines, a journey that would not only bring us closer to our roots but also reconnect my mom with her own father — a reunion decades in the making.
My dad had always carried a heartfelt desire to visit both his side of the family and my mom’s side if we ever traveled back to our hometown in the Philippines. Fulfilling his wishes wasn’t just about honoring his memory — it became a profound journey of faith and family, reminding me how deeply our bonds are tied to both the people we love and the prayers we carry in our hearts. and my mom’s side if we ever traveled back to our hometown in the Philippines. His bucket list was filled with names of family members to visit, but at the top of his list was one special wish: for my mom to visit her father’s gravesite — a place she hadn’t been to since we migrated to the US in the mid-1980s. Though my dad is no longer with us, his voice and intentions echoed through me, guiding our path and shaping our purpose for this trip.
A Journey of Connection and Discovery
With our hearts full of purpose, we set out on this legacy trip. One by one, as we traveled and visited family and friends, we uncovered precious stories about our parents' past — stories of youth, love, and the deep bonds they shared with those around them. Laughter rang out as we heard tales of their younger days, while wisdom filled the air as relatives offered advice on raising children and nurturing a strong, lasting marriage. It was a beautiful reminder that family is not just about bloodlines but about the lessons and love passed down from generation to generation.
As the days unfolded, we saved the most emotional part of the journey for last — visiting my grandfather's grave. This was no ordinary task. My grandfather’s resting place wasn’t in a private, well-maintained cemetery; it was in a public one, where graves had been moved multiple times over the years. Locating his site felt like finding a needle in a haystack.
A Mother's Devotion and a Daughter's Prayer
Determined, my mom, my husband's cousin, my brother, and I split up, each taking a different section of the cemetery. The scorching heat, the maze of tombstones, and the layers of dust didn’t stop us. As I walked alone, my heart racing and my mind clouded with worry, I turned to the one who I knew would guide me — the Blessed Virgin Mary.
I whispered, "Mama Mary, I know you are here waiting for us to ask for your help and guidance. Please show me the way to reunite my mom with her father."
I prayed the Rosary over and over again, feeling the weight of time pass and the heat bearing down on me. Still, I didn’t lose hope. As I moved through the graves, something caught my eye — a small yellow butterfly that circled me not once, not twice, but three times. It wouldn’t leave my side, almost as if it was trying to tell me something. I felt a tug in my heart to follow it, and it led me toward a construction area.
A quiet voice inside urged me, "Ask the men working here." For a moment, I hesitated — unsure if they would take me seriously or if they'd dismiss my request. But the nudge in my heart grew stronger, and with a deep breath and a silent prayer to Mama Mary, I found the courage to approach them. Hesitant but hopeful, I gathered the courage to approach the construction workers and asked if they knew my grandfather's grave. I mentioned his full name, only to be told there were many graves with the same last name. Still, one man offered to help me look.
👨👩👦 Family Dynamics on the SkyBridge
Each Personality Meets the Moment
Now, let me be honest—heights and I are not exactly friends. My eldest son and I both tend to get a little weak in the knees when we’re faced with towering heights. My youngest, on the other hand, is the brave and daring one—the type who leaps before thinking. And then there’s our middle child, the easy-going, flexible one who simply goes with the flow.
As we waited in line to purchase our tickets, my eldest and I were filled with nervousness and anxiety, exchanging glances that silently asked, “Are we really going to do this?” My middle child took off ahead with my cousins, eager and ready, missing the first initial moment of our family’s shared apprehension. But my youngest, full of excitement, stuck by my husband’s side, while I found myself clinging to their fearlessness for strength.
A Divine Discovery
Step by step, grave by grave, I kept praying to Mama Mary for guidance — and just as the worker was about to give up, I kept my faith steady. Then, in what felt like a divine moment, he had one last thought about where the grave might be — and there it was. My grandfather’s resting place.
A wave of joy and relief washed over me. My heart pounded with gratitude, and the widest smile spread across my face. I knew, without a doubt, that Mama Mary and God had guided us there. Overwhelmed with emotion, I shouted for my mom, my voice trembling but full of happiness.
Seeing my mom, my brother, my husband, and I standing together by my grandfather’s grave — a moment decades in the making — was a profound reminder of the power of faith and family. Witnessing my mom's fulfilled heart, her quiet tears of joy, and the gentle smile of peace on her face was a gift I will forever cherish.
And then, as if to confirm the presence of divine intervention, a wave of peace washed over me, reinforcing my belief that Mama Mary's hand had been guiding us every step of the way. I noticed something that left me in awe — the back of the construction worker's shirt had our family name on it. We soon discovered he was a distant relative, a cousin of my grandparents. What were the odds? It was a beautiful, God-orchestrated moment that affirmed we were never alone in this journey.
Faith and Family: Intertwined Forever
This journey was more than just a family trip — it was a testament to the strength of prayer, the guidance of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the importance of honoring our family's legacy. I firmly believe that the yellow butterfly was a symbol of hope and perhaps even my father’s spirit, nudging me toward the right path.
Through this experience, I continue to instill the value of praying to Mama Mary within our family. She, the purest and closest to God, reminds us that faith will always light our way — even in the most challenging moments.
To those reading this, I encourage you to lean into your faith during your own family journeys. Whether you're seeking answers, facing challenges, or simply hoping for guidance, trust in the power of prayer. Mama Mary is always there, waiting to intercede, to comfort, and to lead you closer to God's plan.
As we return home, our hearts are full of gratitude — not just for crossing off my dad’s bucket list, but for witnessing the miraculous power of prayer and love.
A Prayer for Your Journey
I leave you with this beautiful prayer to guide you, just as it guided me:
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
May your journeys always be guided by faith, love, and the ever-present grace of our Blessed Mother.
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