Two months ago, I sat once again at the bedside of a loved one who would soon take her final breath. My grandmother, Lola Betty, passed away twelve years after my mother, her eldest daughter and my fiercest protector, died. I had been with them both in their final days, bearing witness to what the body remembers and what the soul longs for as life ebbs away.
When my mother was nearing the end, her voice grew faint, almost childlike, as she called out “Mame,” her word for mommy. She was reaching for her own mother. Years later, as Lola Betty drifted toward the same horizon, her fading eyes seemed to see my mother waiting, and she whispered after her. Mother and daughter, still bound to each other even as the veil closed in.
It made me wonder: in the most vulnerable moment of our lives, who do we call for?
The Psychology of Our Last Calls
Psychologists say that in the final moments of life, the mind often reverts to its deepest imprints. The subconscious strips away pretenses, careers, possessions, even the roles we think define us. What rises instead are the primal bonds— the people who gave us safety, devotion, and meaning.
To call for a mother, a father, or a beloved partner near the end is not regression. It is return. It is the psyche’s way of reaching back to the wellspring of love that sustained us. Neurologists even suggest that the dying brain sometimes produces vivid hallucinations or visions of loved ones gone before. Whether those visions are biochemical or spiritual, they comfort. They remind us that we were once held, once loved, and never fully alone.
My Mother, My Grandmother, and Me
My relationship with my Lola Betty had never been easy. As a child, I exhausted her. I disappeared into the trees and the streets when she wanted me safe at home. I refused her rosary prayers, uninterested in the beauty rituals she clung to. I was dark-skinned, unlike the fair-skinned, god-fearing grandchildren she favored.
But when my mother died, a new tenderness emerged between us. My grandmother began clinging to my arm in a way she never had before, her eyes softening with an affection I had not known. She looked at me and, in some way, saw her lost daughter. That bond of devotion, the same devotion my mother had shown her siblings and her widowed mother, flowed toward me in those final years. Through grief, she reached for connection, and I became her vessel for continuity.
Devotion was their inheritance, passed from my grandmother to my mother, and from both of them, imperfectly yet indelibly, into the life of our family. It was a devotion to kin above self. It was why my mother set aside her own dreams to support her husband and children. And it was why my grandmother endured widowhood for half a century with enduring strength, raising all eight of her children on her own.
My grandmother with my mother at her college graduation in the early 1980s
Who Will I Call?
Watching them both, I began to ask myself: who would I call for in my own final days?
I suspect it will be my mother. Despite our conflicts, she is the one who fiercely protected me, who carried the weight of our family, who modeled devotion with a strength that has become the backbone of my own life. Her death shook me so deeply that it set me on the global journey I now recount in my memoir, The World Is My Mirror, a journey that became as much about geography and the landscapes I crossed as it was about healing, reinvention, and finding home within myself.
Perhaps, in my last moments, I too will call out for her. This would not be a sign of unfinished growth, but a return to the one whose devotion made me.
To be at the bedside of the dying is to witness the letting go of all that is superficial. What remains is not the tally of achievements or possessions, but the thread of human connection. We reach instinctively for those who shaped us, even if through pain, conflict, or imperfect love.
So when we ask, “Who do we seek in our deathbeds?” the answer is both simple and profound. We seek the person who embodied devotion to us, the one whose presence reassured us that we mattered. That presence may be mother, father, grandparent, lover, child, or God. It may be someone who has long departed, but whose imprint is etched into our very sense of self.
In the end, death is not only a departure. It is a return.
And so I leave you with this question: when your own final days come, whose name will you whisper? Who will you seek?
If you’ve just discovered this blog, welcome. I didn’t set out with the goal of exploring every country in the world—not at first. What began as a break from a long career in science and intellectual property management gradually turned into a deeper journey of healing, rediscovery, and ultimately, transformation. Over time, one step led to another, and I found myself walking a path that spanned continents—and reshaped my life in ways I never expected.
This site is where I bring together three strands of my life’s work:
The Memoir:The World Is My Mirror
After years of walking unfamiliar roads and navigating inner crossroads, I’m thrilled to finally share my story in full. The World Is My Mirror is a deeply personal memoir about midlife reinvention through travel. It follows my journey around the world—not just as a record of places, but as a reflection of a woman transforming from within.
This book is for anyone who has ever wondered, “Is it too late to change?”
Anyone who has felt stuck in life.
Anyone quietly longing for more meaning, freedom, or a renewed sense of self.
I’ll be sharing updates here as we approach the launch later this year, along with exclusive behind-the-scenes moments and stories that didn’t make it into the final pages.
The Mission: Reinvention Through Travel™
This platform was born from the belief that travel can be a profound tool for personal transformation—and for social change.
I don’t mean luxury vacations or escape itineraries.
I mean the kind of travel that slows you down, strips away your assumptions, and lets you see the world—and yourself—with new eyes.
Here, I’ll be writing about what I’ve learned from the road, how I rebuilt my life after letting go of an old one, and how you, too, can use travel as a path to rediscover who you are and what you’re here to do.
Whether you’re navigating a transition, rebuilding after burnout, or simply feeling the stirrings of change—I hope you’ll find wisdom, encouragement, and real tools here.
The Movement: From Solo Journey to Global Community
One of the most unexpected gifts of my travels was discovering that I wasn’t alone. That there were others—Filipinos and global citizens—seeking not just adventure, but purpose.
That’s what led to the creation of the Philippine Global Explorers, now the largest national travel club in the world. What began as a casual gathering of like-minded travelers has evolved into a community committed to giving back—supporting education, environmental conservation, heritage, and culture in local communities across the Philippines.
In time, I’ll share more about this movement, and what it means to lead with impact—whether in your hometown or halfway across the globe.
What to Expect From This Blog
Every few weeks, I’ll be sharing:
Personal stories from my global journey
Lessons on reinvention, resilience, and finding meaning through change
Reflections on leading with purpose and creating impact in local communities
If any of this speaks to you, I hope you’ll stay connected – and sign up to Journey With Me for occasional updates on the book launch and upcoming events and travels.
You can also follow along on social media, where I’ll be posting reflections from the road, behind-the-scenes glimpses, and thoughts on living a life of meaning beyond borders.
This is more than the start of a new chapter.
It’s the unfolding of a shared journey.
Let’s take it one step at a time—honestly, openly, and with a willingness to grow.
At the time, I had what most people would call a successful life—on paper. Nearly two decades of work in science and intellectual property management. A 17-year corporate career. A home in the United States. A marriage. The kind of life that looks complete from the outside. But inside, something had quietly begun to fray.
It wasn’t one dramatic moment that unraveled it all. It was a slow, silent hollowing. Grief after the death of my mother. A quiet estrangement from my own spirit. The sense that I had followed all the rules, achieved everything I was supposed to—and still, something was missing.
In 2015, I made a decision that would change everything.
I walked away.
From the structure, the certainty, and the version of success I had known for so long.
Not to escape.
But to consciously step into the unknown.
What began as a brief pause turned, over time, into a decade-long journey that took me across all seven continents and, ultimately, every country in the world.
I didn’t just pass through places. I let them shape me.
I lived with tribes in the Amazon, danced barefoot in Burundi, wandered silent temples in Bhutan, and drove alone across deserts where I couldn’t hear anything but my breath.
And somewhere along the way, something quietly stirred.
I didn’t just visit places. I let them change me.
I began to find parts of myself I had long buried—or never known at all.
This website, and my upcoming memoir The World Is My Mirror, were born from that journey. Not just the physical one, but the inner one that asked me to reconsider who I had become—and who I still had the chance to be.
Through travel, I learned that reinvention isn’t a single act.
It’s about slowly rediscovering who you are when the roles, titles, and expectations fall away.
It’s about staying open long enough—for meaning, clarity, or purpose to find you.
If you’re here because you’re navigating a midlife shift, seeking renewal, or just wondering what comes next—you’re not alone. I created this space for people like us.
In the coming months, I’ll be sharing stories, reflections, and lessons on reinvention, personal courage, and creating tangible social impact through travel and community-focused leadership.
This is the beginning of a new chapter—for me, and perhaps for you too.
I’m glad you’re here.
If my story resonates with something stirring in you—
If you’re standing at your own crossroads, seeking renewal, meaning, or simply permission to begin again—
I invite you to walk with me.
Let’s explore what becomes possible when we dare to begin again.
ABOUT
Dr. Riza Rasco is a scientist-turned-global explorer, author, and advocate for women’s leadership and social impact through travel. She’s visited all 203 countries and now leads organizations and speaks globally on purposeful travel, reinvention, and impact-driven leadership.
