Chapter 1.🌅 Lessons from a 90-Year Journey – Part 1: The Wonder Years (Ages 0–10)
When you reach the age of ninety, time stretches like a vast ocean—some memories like calm lagoons, others like typhoons that leave an imprint on your soul. As I begin this series, I invite you to walk with me through the decades, as I reflect on the moments—big and small—that shaped who I am today.
This first chapter takes me back to the shores of childhood, in a small town called Barotac Viejo, Iloilo, during the mid-1930s and early 1940s.
📌 Lesson #1: A Child’s World Is Made of Stories and Survival
I was born into a world that was both simple and hard. Simplicity was found in the joy of carabao rides, in eating rice cooked over woodfire, and listening to my mother hum Hiligaynon lullabies. But hard times came too early. The war arrived like a sudden monsoon, uninvited and unforgiving. Detailed of my childhood war experiences are discuss below:
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2024/11/my-childhood-experiences-during.html
My earliest memories were shaped by World War II—blackouts, hiding in the jungles, the fear of Japanese patrols. At an age when children today are learning to ride bicycles, I was learning to be quiet when soldiers passed by. From this, I learned my first big truth:
Resilience begins in childhood. Even when we don’t understand the world, our spirits adapt. We carry that strength, often unknowingly, into adulthood.
📌 Lesson #2: The Eldest Child Carries More Than Just the Family Name
As the firstborn in a family of seven, I quickly realized I was not just a son—I was a model, a mediator, sometimes even a second parent. There were expectations even when none were spoken.
At an early age, I was trusted to watch over siblings, and help my parents in the household. That sense of responsibility never felt like a burden. It was an identity.
Being the eldest taught me leadership not through titles, but through action.
Quiet sacrifice is a language only the oldest child truly understands.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2025/07/my-reflection-as-being-oldest-child-in.html
📌 Lesson #3: The Land Is Our First Teacher
In our province, we did not learn from textbooks as much as we learned from the earth. Planting rice with bare feet in muddy paddies, watching my grandfather graft mango trees, learning which herbs soothed fever—all these were lessons no school could offer.
Even today, as I tend to my garden or walk by the sea at Chateau Du Mer, I feel grounded by those early years.
To know the land is to know yourself.
Nature never forgets to reward those who nurture it.
🌱 Closing Thoughts
The first ten years of life are often dismissed as “too young to remember.” But I remember. I remember everything—the smells, the silence of fear, the songs of hope, the weight of expectation, and the whispers of joy.
In this journey of nine decades, my childhood taught me how to endure, how to lead, and how to grow. I will take you through my teenage years—education, ambition, and first brushes with love in the article below:
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2021/06/my-elementary-and-high-school-years.html
If you, dear reader, are at the beginning of your life—or helping someone through theirs—know this: Your roots matter. They will hold you steady through every storm.
Chapter 2.🌱 Lessons from a 90-Year Journey Part 2: The Turning Point Years (Ages 11–20)
They say adolescence is the time when a boy becomes a man—but in my case, it was also the decade where a survivor became a dreamer. The war was still fresh in our memories, but in the Philippines of the early1950s, there was also a quiet promise in the air: life must go on. At this stage of my life , I always dream to see the US- at that time it was my Paradise.
📚 Lesson #4: Education Is the Door That Opens Every Other Door
After the war, classrooms were rebuilt, chalk returned to blackboards, and Filipino youth once again sat in rows of hope. I was one of them.
I still remember the first time I held a book again after the war. It felt sacred.
I studied hard—not just to pass exams, but because I knew education was my ticket out of poverty, out of provincial limitation, and into the wider world. I became a writer for our school paper. My first article?
“The Advantages and Disadvantages of Being the Oldest Child.”
Education gave me not just knowledge, but purpose.
It taught me that expression—through writing, speaking, and thinking—is a form of freedom.
❤️ Lesson #5: First Love May Not Last, But It Teaches You What Lasts
In my late teens, I experienced the thrilling confusion of first love. A glance across the schoolyard. A shared walk home. An exchanged letter folded into careful squares.
Sweet, awkward, unforgettable.
But as with many young romances, life had other plans. Our paths diverged. Her name was Mary Ann.
Yet from that early love, I learned the value of tenderness. I learned that the heart, though young, is capable of deep feeling—and that heartbreak is a teacher, too.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2016/01/photo-memories-of-my-college-years-in.html
First love teaches us that vulnerability is not weakness, but courage.
Even if it doesn’t last, it shapes what we look for in lasting love.
🇵🇭 Lesson #6: To Love Your Country Is to Serve It in Whatever Way You Can
These were years when nationalism was strong in post-war Philippines. My father, Dr. David J. Katague, instilled in me a sense of civic duty and pride in being Filipino.
Whether through student leadership, helping neighbors, or dreaming of contributing to my community through science and public service, I began to understand that identity isn’t just personal—it’s national.
Serving your country doesn’t always mean wearing a uniform.
It can be raising good children, planting trees, or telling your people’s stories.
🔑 Closing Reflection
My second decade was the season of formation. From the dusty roads of Iloilo to the wooden chairs of rural classrooms, from stolen glances to hand-written essays—those years were the scaffolding of the man I would become.
As I look back from the vantage point of ninety, I no longer mourn what didn’t last. I celebrate what stayed with me: the hunger to learn, the heart to feel, and the soul to serve.
I’ll take you through my twenties—a decade of migration, marriage, and meaningful choices that would shape the rest of my journey and college graduation. I got married at the age of twenty-six and become obsessed with pursuing my graduate studies in the US.
Chapter 3.✈️ Lessons from a 90-Year Journey – Part 3: The Decade of Decisions (Ages 21–30)
Your twenties are often described as the years when life begins in earnest. For me, that was not just a cliché—it was a truth.
This was the decade where I left my boyhood behind, crossed oceans, committed to love, started a family, and began laying the bricks of a new life. Not just for myself, but for generations after me
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2021/07/my-undergraduate-college-years-memories.html
💍 Lesson #7: The Best Decisions Come From the Heart—But Must Be Backed by Commitment
I was in my early twenties when I met Macrine Nieva Jambalos, the love of my life. A registered nurse from Marinduque with quiet strength and grace, she challenged and inspired me in ways no one else had.
We were young, in love, and full of hope. We married on May 8, 1957, in Boac, Marinduque—a day that still lives in vivid color in my memory
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2021/07/our-love-story-for-my-storyworth-book.html
It was a joyful union, but not a simple one. Like many Filipino couples of our time, we had to make difficult choices—balancing career, family, and later, immigration.
Love is not just a feeling—it is a daily decision.
To choose one another even when life becomes hard is the greatest vow of all.
🌎 Lesson #8: Becoming American Is More Than a Legal Status—It’s a Journey of Identity
Immigrating to the United States in the early 1960's was both exciting and terrifying. I was leaving behind family, comfort, and culture—but in return, I was stepping into opportunity.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2021/07/our-chicago-graduate-school-years-for.html
Macrine and I built a life brick by brick. We learned how to be Filipino in our hearts, but American in our paperwork and daily routines. We raised our four children to embrace both worlds.
The transition wasn’t always easy. We faced racism, economic hardship, and the disorienting silence of being far from home. But we also found community, purpose, and a second homeland.
Migration teaches humility, perseverance, and reinvention.
You are not less Filipino because you live abroad—you are living proof of our people’s courage.
👶 Lesson #9: Fatherhood Is the Most Important Legacy You Leave
By the end of my twenties, I became a father. Holding my first child—you, my eldest—was both terrifying and exhilarating. I remembered my own father's hands, rough from work but steady with love, and I hoped I could be half the man he was.
Being a parent rewires your soul. Suddenly, your dreams are not just for yourself—they are for your children.
Every decision becomes a seed you plant in someone else’s future.
Legacy is not found in titles or wealth—but in the lives we shape through love and example.
🌟 Closing Thoughts
The third decade of my life was defined by love, migration, and purpose. I crossed seas, said yes to forever, embraced a new country, and became a father. These were not just milestones; they were transformations.
As I continue this series, I’ll take you into my thirties—a time of professional growth, raising a family in a foreign land, and learning what it truly means to belong in two worlds.
Chapter 4.🏡 Lessons from a 90-Year Journey – Part 4: The Family Years (Ages 31–40)
If my twenties were about bold choices and beginnings, my thirties were about building and becoming. In this decade, the tempo of life quickened—babies became toddlers, jobs turned into careers, and the quiet sacrifices of parenthood became daily rituals. I was no longer just a son or a dreamer—I was now provider, protector, and planner.
This was the decade I began to truly understand what it meant to build a life in America while holding tight to the values I brought from the Philippines.
👨👩👧👦 Lesson #10: Raising a Family Is a Team Effort Built on Patience and Purpose
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2021/07/our-modesto-california-years-for.html
We faced the everyday chaos of parenthood—sleepless nights, tight budgets, illnesses, and school projects—but we never faced them alone.
Marriage and parenting are not about perfection—they are about persistence.
Raising a family takes teamwork, tenderness, and time.
💼 Lesson #11: A Career Should Serve Both Your Wallet and Your Soul
During this decade, I moved forward in my professional life in the U.S. government(FDA). The work was stable, and it allowed me to support my growing family. But I didn’t want to be defined by a job title—I wanted to make a differenceand represent excellence as a Filipino-American.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2021/08/the-highlights-of-my-professional.html
At times, I felt the pull between ambition and family life. I made the conscious choice to never let my career eclipse my role as a father and husband.
Success isn’t about climbing the ladder the fastest—it’s about knowing which wall that ladder leans on.
🏠 Lesson #12: Culture Must Be Lived, Not Just Remembered
Living in the U.S., it became easy to slip into American routines. But Macrine and I made it a point to keep our Filipino culture alive at home—through food, music, language, faith, and values.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2025/07/the-rich-and-flavorful-world-of.html
Our children grew up eating adobo, listening to kundiman songs, and learning the importance of utang na loob (debt of gratitude) and pakikisama (harmony with others).
I saw how cultural identity was not something children inherit automatically—it had to be nurtured, lived, and modeled.
To raise Filipino-American children is to teach them to be proud of their dual heritage—not torn between it.
💬 Closing Reflection
The thirties were busy, challenging, and deeply rewarding. They taught me how to build—not just a house, but a home filled with love, laughter, and legacy.
This was the decade I became not just a husband and father, but a Filipino-American patriarch in the making—shaping lives, planting roots, and strengthening the foundation of everything that would come after.
I will take you now into my forties—a decade of deeper responsibility, self-reflection, and anchoring faith.
Chapter 5. ⚓ Lessons from a 90-Year Journey – Part 5: The Anchoring Years (Ages 41–50)
By the time I reached my forties, life had become a full orchestra—each section playing its own melody: career, children, marriage, culture, faith. And as the conductor of this symphony, I learned that while you cannot control every note, you can set the rhythm.
This decade was about deepening roots—in family, faith, and community. It was no longer about proving myself. It was about staying grounded, growing wiser, and learning the value of stillness in the midst of storms.
🕊️ Lesson #13: Faith Isn’t Just a Belief—It’s a Lifeline
By my forties, the weight of responsibility had settled in: a growing family, aging parents back home, and increasing demands at work. There were health scares, financial stresses, and moments of doubt.
What sustained me wasn’t just logic or discipline—it was faith. Faith in God. Faith in family. Faith in the unseen rewards of staying the course.
Mass, prayer, and quiet time became more than rituals—they were rest stops for the soul.
In the middle of life’s noise, faith is the silence that keeps you sane.
🏛️ Lesson #14: Leadership Begins at Home, but Must Reach Beyond It
With children now in school and beginning to form their own identities, I found myself shifting from caretaker to mentor. I wasn’t just telling them what to do—I was showing them who to be.
I became active in Filipino-American circles, professional communities, and began mentoring younger immigrants who were navigating the same journey I once did. Macrine and I devoted some time to philanthropy ( medical missions) and Donations to the Philippines.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2016/06/my-involvement-with-medical-missions-in.html
Leadership isn’t about spotlight—it’s about legacy.
You lead not only by example but by empowering others to surpass you.
🧳 Lesson #15: Your Homeland Never Leaves You—Even When You’re Miles Away
During this time, I longed for home—not just the Philippines of my youth, but the cultural depth and natural beauty I had left behind. This longing gave birth to a dream: Chateau Du Mer.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2025/01/landscaping-of-main-house-of-chateau-du.html
The idea of building something in Marinduque wasn’t just about real estate—it was about roots. I wanted to give back, to leave something for our family and for balikbayans like me who longed to return.
You can live in two worlds, but you only have one soul—and it always remembers where it came from.
🧭 Closing Reflection
My forties were about alignment—of values, of purpose, of identity. I stopped chasing every opportunity and started choosing what aligned with who I wanted to become.
The anchor was set. I had a compass in faith, a ship in my family, and a direction set by my heritage and dreams.
In the next post, I’ll bring you into my fifties—a decade of transformation, of planting the seeds for the next generation, and of beginning to look inward as much as forward.
In June, 1999, Macrine was elected overall Chairperson of the Festival Committee that was in charge of the celebration of Philippines Independence for the whole month of June. I am super proud of her community involvement.
Chapter 6.🌳 Lessons from a 90-Year Journey – Part 6: The Legacy Years (Ages 51–60)
If my forties were about anchoring myself, my fifties were about planting seeds I knew I might not live to harvest.
This decade marked the beginning of a deeper self-awareness—where success was no longer measured in promotions or possessions, but in impact, influence, and integrity.
In my fifties, I began to see life not only through my own lens but through the eyes of my grown children, the wisdom of aging elders, and the needs of a community that was still evolving—both in the U.S. and in the Philippines.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2016/01/my-participation-with-undc-tokten.html
🌿 Lesson #16: Legacy Begins with Intention, Not Age
You don’t have to be old to think about legacy. In fact, it is in your fifties—while still strong in mind and body—that you must begin to act on the question: What will I leave behind?
For me, this meant investing more time in writing, mentoring, and giving back to both my adopted country and my homeland. It meant building up Chateau Du Mer not just as a private retreat, but as a vision of what a peaceful, beautiful life could look like for retirees and balikbayans in Marinduque.
Legacy is not what you leave for people; it’s what you leave in them.
Your values, your stories, your lessons—these outlast even your name.
👨👧👦 Lesson #17: Adult Children Need Support—Not Control
By now, our children had grown. Some had careers, others were starting families of their own. Watching them make their own decisions—some wise, some wobbly—was both heartwarming and humbling.
I learned to let go of control, but never of connection. I learned to offer advice when asked, to support without smothering, and to celebrate their independence even when it hurt my pride.
Fatherhood doesn’t end when your children grow up—it evolves.
You become less of a teacher, more of a sounding board. And that’s okay.
🌏 Lesson #18: The World Changes Fast—Stay Curious
The late 20th century brought computers, cell phones, global connectivity, and shifting cultural norms. Instead of resisting the changes, I chose to stay curious.
I learned new technologies. I began exploring the internet. And in 2009, I started blogging—at first for family, then for friends, and eventually for a global audience.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2025/06/summary-of-topics-i-have-written-in-my.html
A curious mind never grows old.
Adaptability is one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself as you age.
🪵 Closing Reflection
In my fifties, I became a bridge: between generations, between continents, and between ideas. It was a time for mentoring without preaching, building without boasting, and planning for a future I might never see—but wanted to help shape.
The decade reminded me that our greatest work may be invisible to us—yet essential to those who follow.
Next, I will take you into my sixties—a decade of health challenges, spiritual deepening, and preparing to embrace the beauty of elderhood.
Chapter 7. 🕊️ Lessons from a 90-Year Journey – Part 7: The Wisdom Years (Ages 61–70)
In our youth, we chase knowledge. In our middle years, we pursue success. But in our sixties, we begin to seek something deeper: wisdom.
This was the decade I entered what many cultures regard as the eldership stage—not a retreat from life, but a step into a new role: that of a guide. My hair turned gray, my steps grew slower, but my perspective became sharper than ever.
These were years of looking back with gratitude, looking forward with calm, and looking within with honesty.
🧘 Lesson #19: Aging Is Not a Decline—It’s a Refinement
In my sixties, the signs of aging became undeniable. Aches appeared where there were none before. I had to watch my diet more closely, go to the doctor more frequently, and accept that some physical limitations were here to stay.
But surprisingly, I did not resent growing old. Instead, I embraced it. There was something liberating about no longer needing to prove anything to anyone.
Aging gracefully means knowing what to hold onto—and what to let go of.
Vanity fades. Wisdom glows.
🙏 Lesson #20: Spiritual Life Becomes the Compass
Faith had always been part of my life, but in this decade it became central.
I found peace not in possessions but in prayer. I no longer prayed just to ask for things—but to listen, to give thanks, and to prepare my soul for the chapters to come.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2025/05/the-power-of-prayer-quote-from-pope-leo.html
Whether at Mass, walking by the beach in Marinduque, or in moments of quiet journaling, I felt closer to the Divine than ever before.
In elderhood, the spirit finally has space to speak—and we are wise enough to listen.
🏠 Lesson #21: Retirement Is a New Beginning, Not an Ending
In my sixties, I began transitioning into retirement. For many, retirement is feared—associated with uselessness or boredom. But for me, it was an opportunity to pivot into purpose.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2025/05/an-excerpt-from-life-of-david-b-katague.html
I devoted more time to writing, gardening, traveling, and dreaming up ways to give back—especially through Chateau Du Mer, which became a haven for family, friends, and fellow balikbayans.
Retirement isn’t about doing less—it’s about doing more of what matters.
🌅 Closing Reflection
My sixties brought me clarity. The fog of youth had lifted. The pressures of midlife had passed. What remained was essential—faith, family, purpose, and peace.
This was the decade where I stopped racing toward the future and began savoring the present. And in doing so, I realized: growing old is not losing youth—it is gaining depth.
In the next chapter, I’ll take you into my seventies—a time of acceptance, gratitude, and watching life bloom in the next generation.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2020/05/it-is-better-to-give-than-to-receive.html
Chapter 8. 🌻 Lessons from a 90-Year Journey – Part 8: The Gratitude Years (Ages 71–80)
There’s a stillness that comes with the seventies—a slowing of the body, yes, but also a softening of the heart.
By this time in life, you are no longer the center of the stage—you’ve become the observer, the encourager, the quiet strength behind the scenes.
This was the decade when I learned that gratitude is not a feeling—it’s a way of living. I found peace not in striving, but in seeing: seeing the beauty of what already is.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2022/10/my-donation-to-upv-library-fund-to.html
🌞 Lesson #22: Letting Go Brings More Peace Than Holding On
As the years passed, I found myself letting go of many things—titles, possessions, roles I once thought defined me. I retired fully. I watched my children raise their own families. I said goodbye to friends, colleagues, even siblings.
Letting go didn’t mean giving up. It meant making space—for reflection, for stillness, for grace.
What you release doesn’t leave a hole—it makes room for clarity, humility, and peace.
👵 Lesson #23: A Life Partner Is Life’s Greatest Treasure
In my seventies, my relationship with Macrine—my beloved wife—deepened into something even more tender than before.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2025/05/my-spouse-macrine-j-katague-and-dodies.html
We had been through every season of life together. By now, our conversations were sometimes wordless, our comfort in each other’s presence unquestioned.
We celebrated anniversaries not as accomplishments, but as gifts. Every shared sunrise was a quiet miracle.
True love matures like wine—richer, deeper, more soulful with age.
In later life, companionship becomes the purest form of romance.
👪 Lesson #24: Grandchildren Are a Second Chance to Love—With Less Fear
Becoming a grandfather six times was one of the greatest joys of this decade. With grandchildren, you are no longer driven by the anxiety of getting everything “right”—you simply love, and that is enough.
I delighted in their curiosity, their innocence, and the sense that life was continuing—this time with a little more color, a little more wisdom woven in.
Grandparenting is love without pressure—joy without agenda.
🌤 Closing Reflection
My seventies taught me that life doesn’t shrink with age—it expands inward.
I became more grateful for the simple things: a quiet morning, the smell of the ocean, a family meal, an old song, a handwritten letter.
This was the season of harvest—not in terms of accolades or achievements, but of relationships, memories, and meaning.
Next, I will share with you my eighties—a decade of legacy, slowing down with grace, and preparing for the final stretch of this beautiful journey.
Chapter 9. 🍂 Lessons from a 90-Year Journey – Part 9: The Harvest Years (Ages 81–90)
In your eighties, you begin to see life as a completed painting—full of brushstrokes both deliberate and accidental. This is the decade when time becomes more precious than ever—not because of fear, but because of clarity. You realize that every moment is a blessing, and every breath is a benediction.
I entered my eighties with a quiet heart, open hands, and deep appreciation for all that I had been given—and all that I had given in return.
🕯️ Lesson #25: Slowing Down Is a Gift, Not a Burden
In youth, we rush. In midlife, we manage. In old age, we observe. In my eighties, daily life moved more slowly—and so did I. But I discovered a richness in this slowness. I had more time to reflect, to savor my meals, to tend the garden with care, to sit silently beside loved ones.
Pain and fatigue sometimes visited—but I welcomed them like old friends, reminders that I had lived fully and long.
To slow down is not to fade—but to notice what others miss.
🖋️ Lesson #26: Memory Is a Treasure Chest—Keep It Open
These years brought deep reflection. I looked back on childhood under wartime skies in Iloilo, courtship in Marinduque, immigration to America, fatherhood, writing, retirement, and rediscovery.
Through blogging, poetry, and storytelling, I found my voice again—not just to share the past, but to weave it into something enduring for my children, grandchildren, great grand children and the world.
Writing became my way of staying alive in the minds of others—even long after I am gone.
When your body slows, your memory becomes your wings.
Don’t just live a life—leave a story.
🕊️ Lesson #27: Preparing for the End Is Part of Living Well
In my eighties, I made peace with the finite nature of life. I updated wills, made clear wishes, had open conversations with my family. I said the words that needed to be said, and offered forgiveness where it had long been due.
There is dignity in preparing—emotionally, spiritually, even practically—for the end. And far from being morbid, it brings serenity.
To prepare for the end is not to invite it—it's to greet it with grace, whenever it may come.
🌾 Closing Reflection
The harvest years were gentle, sacred, and soulful. I watched generations bloom before me, felt the rhythm of seasons long passed, and heard the echo of laughter from every chapter of my life.
In my eighties, I no longer asked, “What have I done?” Instead, I gave thanks: for the journey, for the lessons, and for the love that outlived time itself.
In the final chapter of this series, I’ll reflect on what it means to reach ninety—a rare and humbling milestone—and the deepest lesson of all.
Chapter 10.🎁 Lessons from a 90-Year Journey – Part 10: The Nineties The Gift of Presence
Reaching ninety years of age is a gift few receive—a milestone that invites reflection not just on a life lived, but on the very nature of time, presence, and legacy.
At ninety, I have learned that the most precious thing we give to those around us is not advice, possessions, or even stories—but our presence: the simple, quiet act of being truly here and now.
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2024/12/personal-reflections-on-eve-of-my-90th.html
🌟 Lesson #28: Presence Is the Greatest Present
With fewer years ahead than behind, I cherish the moments—morning sunlight on the patio, the laughter of grandchildren, a gentle breeze from the sea at Chateau Du Mer and the Court yard Gardens of the Heritage Downtown, Walnut Creek.
I listen more deeply. I smile more easily. Macrine has passed and now I live alone. Only the company of Batman and Robin eases the loneliness I felt once I a while. But I kept busy, playing bridge, mahjong, chair volleyball, corn hole and ladder ball. Most of all, writing daily, experimenting on new ideas and technology ( AI).
Being present is love made visible.
It transforms ordinary time into sacred time.
🕰️ Lesson #29: Time Is Both Precious and Plentiful
When you reach this age, time paradoxically feels both short and expansive. Short because you realize how quickly moments slip away.
Expansive because you understand that each moment contains eternity if you let it.
Life is not measured by the number of breaths, but by the moments that take your breath away.
🌈 Lesson #30: Legacy Is Love in Action
At ninety, I see that what truly lasts is not the things I have done alone, but the love I have given and received.
My children, grandchildren, great grand children, friends, and community carry pieces of me forward—not in marble or paper, but in the kindness, values, and memories shared. When Macrine passed in 2020, I decided to live alone in an active senior living community to be near to by two oldest children. This year I also become a two times Great Grand Father- of! -Graham Everett and Beau David. They call me the SUPER LOLO!
https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2025/05/dinah-katague-and-david-e-katague-by.html
Your legacy is alive as long as it lives in the hearts of others.
💖 Final Reflection
The journey to ninety and perhaps beyond has been filled with joy, sorrow, growth, and grace. If there is one wish I have for every reader—young or old—it is this:
Live fully. Love deeply. Be present. Be Grateful.
Because at the end of the day, the greatest gift we can offer the world is simply ourselves.
Photo Taken, July 4, 2025, The Heritage Downtown Court Yard, Walnut Creek, CA
Thank you for walking this journey with me. With gratitude and hope, David
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