Closing Cycles

Sharing a good read from Paulo Coelho...

One always has to know when a stage comes to an end. If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through. Closing cycles, shutting doors, ending chapters - whatever name we give it, what matters is to leave in the past the moments of life that have finished.

Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship come to an end? Did you leave your parents' house? Gone to live abroad? Has a long-lasting friendship ended all of a sudden? You can spend a long time wondering why this has happened. You can tell yourself you won't take another step until you find out why certain things that were so important and so solid in your life have turned into dust, just like that. But such an attitude will be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your children, your sister, everyone will be finishing chapters, turning over new leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel bad seeing you at a standstill.

None of us can be in the present and the past at the same time, not even when we try to understand the things that happen to us. What has passed will not return: we cannot forever be children, late adolescents, sons that feel guilt or rancor towards our parents, lovers who day and night relive an affair with someone who has gone away and has not the least intention of coming back. Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them really go away.

That is why it is so important (however painful it may be!) to destroy souvenirs, move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell or donate the books you have at home. Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts - and getting rid of certain memories also means making some room for other memories to take their place. Let things go. Release them. Detach yourself from them. Nobody plays this life with marked cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Do not expect anything in return, do not expect your efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be discovered, your love to be understood. Stop turning on your emotional television to watch the same program over and over again, the one that shows how much you suffered from a certain loss: that is only poisoning you, nothing else.

Nothing is more dangerous than not accepting love relationships that are broken off, work that is promised but there is no starting date, decisions that are always put off waiting for the "ideal moment." Before a new chapter is begun, the old one has to be finished: tell yourself that what has passed will never come back. Remember that there was a time when you could live without that thing or that person - nothing is irreplaceable, a habit is not a need. This may sound so obvious, it may even be difficult, but it is very important.

Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life. Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust. Stop being who you were, and change into who you are.

IT'S GONNA MAKE SENSE

Life comes in many shapes
You think you know what you got

Until it changes


And life will take you high and low
You gotta learn how to walk
And then which way to go


Every choice you make
When you’re lost
Every step you take
Has it’s cause


Chorus:
After you clear your eyes
You’ll see the light
Somewhere in the darkness
After the rain has gone
You’ll feel the sun comes
And though it seems your sorrow never ends
Someday it’s gonna make sense


Tears you she’d are all the same
When you laughed ’till you cried
Or broken down in pain


All the hours you have spent in the past
Worrying about
A thing that didn’t last


Everything you saw
Played a part
In everything you are
In your heart


Chorus:
After you clear your eyes
You’ll see the light
Somewhere in the darkness
After the rain has gone
You’ll feel the sun comes
And though it seems your sorrow never ends
Someday it’s gonna make sense


Release:
Someday you’re gonna find the answers
To all the things you’ve become and all they’ve done
At your expense

SO MUCH IN MY PLATE

This is what's keeping me tied up these days...graduate school. The pressure just keeps getting higher and higher, motherhood, my career, family, hubby, a lot of other things, and school on Saturdays and Sundays. But the course enriches me a lot, its been providing me with a lot of avenues for learning and growing and discovering. Sharing below my most recent reaction paper on Conflict Transformation.

Roads to Reconciliation

Robert J. Schreiter
Catholic Theological Union


SUMMARY:

Along the road to achieving real peace, a lot of uphill struggle have been taken. The message takes on the intricate details to the path of reconciliation. By explicitly dissecting the three roadmaps, Robert Scheiter is able to identify how each course of action is different from the other, its strengths and weaknesses, and how ultimately, it shall answer the question: Heal the past? Or build the future?


Surely it takes a lot of creativity on the part of the peace makers to bring about a change that is desirable for everybody. Reconciliation as a process and not merely as a goal proves to be such a daunting task, discouraging for others that more often than not, they settle for the quicker, easier solution. There is no doubt that world leaders, peace advocates, and church leaders continue to find ways around injustices, atrocities, senseless deaths, and all the ugliness possible. Conventions and synods alone are encouragement enough. But the question lies on how open are these people to try new possibilities?

The three roadmaps to reconciliation incalculably remind me of Conflict Management (First Roadmap: Reconciliation is about the Human Heart), Conflict Resolution (Roadmap Two: Reconciliation is about Overcoming Injustice), and Conflict Transformation (Roadmap Three: Reconciliation is about Alternative Social Formations). Stepping back a little and looking at these three, it shows how actually simple peacemaking should be, after all. Then again, there are no shortcuts to success. Simple things can be made complicated depending on how we use the tools. It seems to be a very doable formula, if followed thoroughly.

I am highly encouraged about these roadmaps. Each, I believe is as important as the others. The first roadmap personally appeals to me as it focuses on the Christian perspective to attaining peace. “It is reconciled individuals who will make a reconciled society.” It has always been one of my personal philosophies and I have seen it work in cases of interpersonal and intrapersonal conflicts. It is quite surprising though, how it is not enough if what we want is real peace, durable peace, for that matter. In this regard, the illustration of the words “horizontal” reconciliation rather than “vertical” understanding of it, that is, the relationship with God, has expanded my understanding of the said supposition.

To put it simply, if my husband has wronged me, it is not enough that I choose to stay a loving wife and forgive him, seventy seven times seven, as the Bible says. The “victim-centered” approach to reconciliation is same as managing conflict. That is not addressing the real issue. That is not legitimizing any goal of both parties involved in a conflict.

Indeed, that alone, a romantic viewpoint of a peaceful world is not enough. While there are boundless miracles of conversion available in heaven, the world is here and now and as much as it needs good men with good hearts, more of creativity and ingenuity is also direly needed.

The second roadmap resonates with the edict “Rule of law is the bedrock of democratic society”. I used to be fully convicted in my belief that genuine peace cannot be achieved by cleaning up the mountains, that there will always be rebels up there as long as there is not enough distribution of wealth. No peace without justice, as the popular slogan calls out. But true justice, for that matter, is not served by the effort alone of convicting the criminals. What do these people live for, anyway? What do they really want? The atrocities committed endlessly are just the tip of the iceberg. Beneath lies a massive obstruction.

Punitive justice is an attempt to provide temporary relief, like a first-aid treatment to a first degree burn. There is a gnawing social condition to be analyzed. There are needs to be legitimized. The cycle of violence has to stop, if we are to achieve anything, if not everything right away, on the road to reconciliation.

A new world. Who wouldn’t want that? For that to be possible, we need to heal the past so it will not torment us anymore, and so we can move on in building the future. There has to be a new reality where all can co-exist in harmony. If we can combine the seemingly gentle yet uncompromising religious dogmas with the pragmatic tenets of society, why not? All possibilities shouldn’t only be nibbled and spat out. They should be taken in and digested completely so they can nourish like they ought to.

The future is waiting to be conquered. Hope is paramount to apathy, at all times. With apathy comes along fear, all sorts of angst, and juvenile excuses. Reconciliation shouldn’t only be an argument won, or a point well taken. It has to be actualized. And lived.

SLOW ME DOWN

Lyrics | Emmy Rossum lyrics - Slow Me Down lyrics

DESPONDENT

There are days

When I just walk away.

When there’s nothing left to say,

I walk away.

Sometimes I stay

Even if I bleed, I stay.

Not because I’m a pain glutton, no.

I stay thinking that would be kinder.

But you see,

I can get tired.

I can get scared.

I can be despondent.

And so I walk away…

In spite of my latent grief

I walk away.

I never run out of questions

Only answers are elusive

And so I walk away.

From the heartache of it all,

I walk away.

Right now I wish

I could go far enough…

HE'S GROWING TOO FAST

He's recently turned four and keeps claiming he's already eight. He's a trying-hard adult when he talks, raising arguments that almost always amuses those around him. Most of the time they're hilarious. Like one time, I brought him with me to work. My office mate brought him to a store nearby and they passed by a group of young gentlemen playing basketball. This was how the conversation went:

Abe: "I also have basketball at home."
Gentlemen: "Really?"
Abe: "Yes, I play with my Tatay."
Gentlemen: "Oh, so you have basketball ring!"
Abe: "What ring?! Only Saturn and Jupiter have rings!"

He likes hanging out with adults. Whenever kids around the block pass by our house and invite him to play, he would call out to them and say, "You should be home sleeping!"

One night, we were with grannies, on our way to a birthday dinner for my sister. Inside the car, my mother was talking, my sister was talking, he was also talking. He suddenly blurted out in a much louder voice, "You are talking, I am also talking, that can't be possible!"

Indeed there is so much wisdom you get from a child. Many times, he's tamed my raging spirit just by holding me and telling me his sweetest I love yous. There's been a bit of a storm in my life lately and my son has reminded me of Jesus sleeping in the midst of it all. He would sit on my lap, dry the tears in my eyes with his tiny hands and would tell me, "Let me dry your tears...there..it will be okay..." and would embrace me. It's such a wonder how much strength I would muster from his slender, almost skinny arms around my neck.

Just this week, he's been sick again. Eight days of unrelenting fever. One midnight, his temperature soared to 39.6 and it scared the hell out of me. I prayed hard to God, crying out to him all my fears and worries. For the first time in my life, I bargained with my faith. I promised God to give up 'something' really important and special in my life, if only he would let the fever go away, even just for that night. It did go away in an instant. I can't help but think of how one night, I was having terrible stomach pains. We were all alone in the house, with nanny home on a day off. He got so worried that he knelt on the bed and prayed: "Jesus, please heal my Nanay. I promise I will eat more, promise I will finish my milk, poo-poo on the toilet, drink my medicines, sleep early and won't shout at night. I will be a really good boy. Just please heal Nanay" He then turned to me and said "You should be okay by now, because I prayed already. Next time be sure to poo-poo on the toilet so you won't get stomache."

One day soon, he will be a real grownup correcting me like that. I won't mind at all. While I am his mother, I want him to be my best buddy.

Sharing his birthday cake

Batman lovers

I carried him for nine months in my tummy... look how much he's grown! I always go sentimental on his birthday.

TRADE OF HEARTS

So much about how you look at me
makes me feel so protected.
So much about your smile
tells me I am beautiful.
So much about your touch
makes me want to belong to you
forever.

With my heart that knows so much
but seems to care so little,
so much about your being there
shows me so vastly of the world.
And perhaps I will never know
of a love that have loved enough
more than you.

So much about your loving me
makes me want to love you
even so much more.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PO1

Bar hopping. Wish granted for my dear birthday boy! Happy birthday Banako. Please know that despite the odds, I will be here waiting for the better days. We just need our hearts to keep talking so we will not stray and cry unecessarily.

I pray God will keep you, guard you, empower you and give you strength of body, mind and heart, always. More than me and our son, you need Him. It takes only God to make a brave and gentle warrior like you. I love you.

PS: thank you Pungkay, Cat, DitTobel for such a great, HILARIOUS night with us... *emphasis on 'hilarious' courtesy of Cat..

THEATRE PERFORMANCE

(written 10-10-03)

There are times
when I feel like my life
is a theatre piece
where I am stage-managed
like an actor,
and in my struggle to stay whole,
I keep performing
with a desperate determination
to finish my part,
without getting booed.
How pathetic, you'd say.
But don't we all experience this,
in this whole malady of life?
There is the reality of pain, fear,
confusion, injustice, and death.
Sometimes, with all the ugliness
around me,
I can't help feeling
that I have become too ugly
to believe in a God
who makes monsters like me --
devoid of love, of faith, of hope.
It's not the "Me" anymore,
it's the "Long Lost Me".
And how do I salvage myself
from this wreckage?
How do I quit theatre performance,
when all I got is a stage,
not a home?

I SAW SOMETHING IN THE SKY

Try standing at the center of an empty city square. Look up the sky and point a finger as if you saw something. In less than 10 counts you are surely to gather a crowd, all trying to see what you’re looking at.

For me that’s what con-ass is all about. People hear something talking about something and they want to say something about it too. If you are mum about it, like frankly I am, they say you have to know where you stand. “Apathy is useless,” I hear someone say,” we have to unite against it to prevent them from pursuing Cha-Cha. “

Call it apathy. Call it cynicism. Call it mediocrity. I am just done believing our people can stop blaming others for their misfortunes. It’s not that I’m for the present government. I’ve never really fancied any form of leadership in the Philippines. In fact I’ve had my share of protests, taking part in classic political satires, relentlessly believing each president was the wrong one. But come to think of it, even from the time of Makario Sakay and his seemingly seditious activities, to the time of Andres Bonifacio, to Hero Jose Rizal, has something really changed? I was born during Martial Law years. The presidents I grew up with were Marcos, followed by Aquino, then Ramos, Estrada and now Arroyo. Has something really changed?

So what if they pursue constitutional amendment? We didn’t like Martial Law did we? So we cried for democracy. And what did we do with democracy? The powerful few deem it possible to consider another form of government for better change to come about. Of course, like my silly scene at a city square, the majority clamor and the threatening possibility spread like wildfire. We fear that the declaration of Cha-Cha is tantamount to a declaration of war against the people.

Martial Law, Democratic, Semi-Feudalism. Whatever form, whatever style, whoever is up the throne, does it really matter, if the people are the same? Change means nothing if it doesn’t come from the people itself. Cliché but whether we like it or not, it’s true.

Last night I was riding a jeepney. The woman next to me was eating something and right after she just unmindfully threw her trash out of the moving vehicle. I was peeved and shook my head in pure dismay. It’s one of those changes I’m talking about. Discipline. Commonsense. Vigilance. To name a few.

When do we stop talking and start moving? There are always juicy things to talk about. Con-ass is juicy. Halli-Hayden scandal is juicy. Not to mention the infamous Hello Garci tape. Every day we never run out of issues, intrigues, scandals. Once again, think about my silly city square scene. Why else was Edsa I followed by Edsa II and another by failed Edsa III attempt.

I wonder do people really know what they’re fighting for.

ME-TIME

For the first time in my life I made this trip all by myself. Eight hours away from Bacolod. It was way too liberating. I am sharing a few photos for now. Have to catch up with a lot of things at the moment.

"The magnificence
of this supreme search

sustains me in my sufferings.
From these sufferings are born

the many songs of my youth
and I come to realize

that struggles serve to strengthen
the fibers of my soul.

They bring me nearer to beauty,

they bring me closer to God."

Please Hear What I'm Not Saying

Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear
for I wear a mask, a thousand masks,
masks that I'm afraid to take off,
and none of them is me.

Pretending is an art that's second nature with me,
but don't be fooled,
for God's sake don't be fooled.
I give you the impression that I'm secure,
that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well
as without,
that confidence is my name and coolness my game,
that the water's calm and I'm in command
and that I need no one,
but don't believe me.
My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask,
ever-varying and ever-concealing.
Beneath lies no complacence.
Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness.
But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed.
That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind,
a nonchalant sophisticated facade,
to help me pretend,
to shield me from the glance that knows.

But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope,
and I know it.
That is, if it's followed by acceptance,
if it's followed by love.
It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself,
from my own self-built prison walls,
from the barriers I so painstakingly erect.
It's the only thing that will assure me
of what I can't assure myself,
that I'm really worth something.
But I don't tell you this. I don't dare to, I'm afraid to.
I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance,
will not be followed by love.
I'm afraid you'll think less of me,
that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me.
I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing
and that you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game, my desperate pretending game,
with a facade of assurance without
and a trembling child within.
So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks,
and my life becomes a front.
I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that's really nothing,
and nothing of what's everything,
of what's crying within me.
So when I'm going through my routine
do not be fooled by what I'm saying.
Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying,
what I'd like to be able to say,
what for survival I need to say,
but what I can't say.

I don't like hiding.
I don't like playing superficial phony games.
I want to stop playing them.
I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me
but you've got to help me.
You've got to hold out your hand
even when that's the last thing I seem to want.
Only you can wipe away from my eyes
the blank stare of the breathing dead.
Only you can call me into aliveness.
Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging,
each time you try to understand because you really care,
my heart begins to grow wings--
very small wings,
very feeble wings,
but wings!

With your power to touch me into feeling
you can breathe life into me.
I want you to know that.
I want you to know how important you are to me,
how you can be a creator--an honest-to-God creator--
of the person that is me
if you choose to.
You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble,
you alone can remove my mask,
you alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic,
from my lonely prison,
if you choose to.
Please choose to.

Do not pass me by.
It will not be easy for you.
A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.
The nearer you approach to me
the blinder I may strike back.
It's irrational, but despite what the books say about man
often I am irrational.
I fight against the very thing I cry out for.
But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls
and in this lies my hope.
Please try to beat down those walls
with firm hands but with gentle hands
for a child is very sensitive.

Who am I, you may wonder?
I am someone you know very well.
For I am every man you meet
and I am every woman you meet.

Charles C. Finn
September 1966

LISTEN

When I ask you to listen to me, it means I needed to be heard. You won't be able to hear me when you're also talking. So when you listen, it means you have to keep quiet.

Quiet. Silence. Idle moments. Sometimes, you also need to listen to those 'uncomfortable' gaps. There are times when I just need you to sit around, with me, for me. Be there for me. Even if I'm not saying anything. And you don't have to say anything, too. If you can't bear my silence then I guess you don't know me enough.

Sometimes I blabber endlessly, sometimes I'm loud, incoherent, even nagging. But that doesn't make up a great fraction of my life. Most of the time, I can't bear loud people. They talk too much, they hardly make a point.

When I ask you to listen to me, it means you don't judge me or blame me for screwing up my life. It simply means I need your compassion and understanding. It means you try to see the person that is me, am I broken? Am I sad? Am I angry? Am I tired? But really you don't have to blame me for being any of those. Just be there for me.

When I ask you to be there for me, you don't have to solve my problem. I will certainly solve it myself. You can suggest things for me, just suggest. Don't impose. Because you are not me. And don't feel bad if I don't choose to do what you suggested. You being there for me is helping me more than enough.

Your presence, your company, your gentleness, is already an encouragement, is already an assurance that you care. Of course you care, I know you do.

I just need you to listen.

HOW MOTHERHOOD CHANGED ME

at work with my son

Last night my son came up to me and said, "Nay, it's already Mothers Day tomorrow. I should give you a flower." and later went on and said "and you will say thank you and I would say you're welcome!" He went to bed with this funny looking paper he might just have picked up somewhere around the house and a little stick. He said we would make it into a flower. He slept with his 'project' in his hands. Right now, while I am typing away, he is seated beside me with that paper and a pair of scissors waiting patiently for me. After greeting me, he said we should get going and make the flower for me.hahaha my cute little boyfriend.

These are just one of the many things that give meaning to my daily existence as a mother. Life as a working mother hasn't been easy. But I always see to it that my relationship with my son is something that wouldn't get neglected. Thepast months have been quite horrific for me. I could have screwed up my life. I could have thrown in the towel. My son gave me strength to bounce back. His daily i love yous, hugs, and forever cuteness are more than enough to pull me through.

The other day I was taking one of these fun quizzes on FB, What is Your Feminine Philosophy. The result I got was "Womanist".

Feminist doesn't quite fit you. You believe in women's rights, but there is
more to it. You appreciate the roles women play and recognize that this varies
somewhat with cultural background and socio-economic status. Women can be strong and wise. They can be survivors. Men are not the enemy of women, but women can influence men and support and empower men for the betterment of their communities..

I always thought I was feminist. Or maybe I was. This quizz has got me pondering over how being a mother to my son has changed me. How can I keep thinking men as enemies when I have a son who proves me otherwise?

My Dear Gabriel,

You are the wind beneath my wings. Your love teaches me a lot of things: forbearance, patience, humility, ability to hope, above all, faith in God. Because of you, I don't want to give up. I don't want to make stupid decisions. You make me want to decide to be a better person, on a daily basis. There are good days and bad for the two of us, but I praise God for them. They make up such a healthy, beautiful relationship that I am so happy and proud of. I love you with all my heart.


Love,
Nanay

PS: Finish your breakfast before watching Nick Jr.

showing off the flower he and tita dit made

EIGHT YEARS

It was my little sister Che's birthday..May 3, 2001. I handed him back the book I borrowed. In it I inserted an envelope containing a card that said: "Thank you for waiting. I love you."

It was the kind of love that knew no contrast, no comparison. It didn't spring forth from any 'spark' being told in high school novels I had read. It was fresh, innocent,hopeful. What would it be holding hands with him? What would it be being enclosed in his arms? What would the first kiss be? Would he take care of me and love me forever like he promised? Would I be happy? Would there be an eternity for us?

His joy said it all. It was overwhelming and almost scary to be loved and adored by a man so much. But I took it all in and basked in the wonder of falling in love.

He taught me love. He taught me how to bring it out of me and share. He discovered it inside me and in no time it was out freely, heedlessly, even uncontrollably.

For the first time in my life, I could see eternity and got so excited for it.



Banako,

Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for enduring all those many months just to get my sweetest "yes" eight years ago. Thank you for taking in all the crap that I was, and still am. Yes, for you I am the best, even perfect, as you always say. But I do have my own misdemeanors and you know that.

When I think of you, Ithink of how God loves me enough to matchmake me with someone who could neutralize my raging heart. Remember those younger days, everytime you told me "I love you", I could only answer, "Thank you.." Because above all, your love is something I am always thankful for. It is my compass as I wander in own my forest of discontent, fears, angst.

I love you. I am lost without you. No matter how strong you perceive me to be, I am a whimpering princess without you by my side. I pray God will grant the desires of our hearts soon.

Happy Anniversary! Thank you Dear Lord for eight years...

Asawamo


footnote: Happy Birthday Che-Che! A few days before her birthday she begged me nonstop to say 'yes' to my long-time suitor on her birthday itself, saying that would be her happiest birthday ever. It was sort of a blackmail from a little sister, but nevertheless it was because of her that I am married to my husband right now.

I'm sharing a few sweetheart photos below...

COLOR ME PURPLE

Happy birthday Cat! I hope this is enough to let you know I understand what you're going through right now...If there's enough reason to celebrate, it's YOU!!!







My eyes are shut
My heart is locked
The world right now
Is just too sad to look at
Its wind, to icy to feel
It seeps through me
And I become purple,
I become numb…


Here inside my head
are happy days and sad,
a universe of my
vagrant dreams.
Here, inside, is my own earth
where i become purple,
I become queen...

I stay here for a while
before I go a few more miles.
In this journey
of purple sunsets
and pinkish dawn,
i know I have to make it
on my own...

So I color me purple
I color me strength
I am numb,
I am queen,
I am more than a warrior.
I feel, I cry, I sing
I laugh, I dream.

I am beautiful.
I am purple.

LOST

Tired.

I am
tired.

Of this pain
not my
own.

This should be ours
both of us
not just
me.

Why do I feel lost
here in this maze,
you're not here
with me.
Here.

Lost.
I am.
Where are you?
You said you'd stay
But where are you? Lost?

You
are lost.
Lost like me,
but are you tired?

I
am tired.
Tired and scared,
'cause you are gone.

Gone,
to chase
your own dreams.

Me?
I'm here.
Lost.

ARE YOU STRONG?

"Strong people make mistakes like weak people.
The difference is that strong people ADMIT them,
LAUGH and LEARN from them.
That's how they become STRONG."

God brought me you

Writing this poem for my best friend since high school, Vivian, for her birthday last April 2. Sorry for being late my friend. My first lines start from the moment I stepped into our freshman classroom... up till now, where our life continues to bring us together in our journey. Thank you for all that you are to me. Happy Birthday!

Love, Anne

I walked along, alone

nervous of something new

a traveller, scared one

that I was...

Then God brought me you.

There were flowers to admire

sun who only rose

to set again...

I cried for those.

And you cried along.

I looked for meaning

for a teardrop,

a broken dead branch,

my discoveries were echanting...

You understood them.

And now my journey

has brought me to a whirlwind

of confusion, pain and joy

Everything else becomes

too close to see...

You look at them clearly for me.

You cry with me, for me.

You understand me.

Indeed, God brought me you.

FREEDOM IN YOU

Reposting a poem I wrote for my boyfriend more than five years ago...he's now my husband...


I just want to be with you
for in your arms
I could lose everything
but then I live.

I am caged and locked
from the world
but with you I'm free --
and could never be freer.

Just one touch
and I fly away
from the shadows of the past
and my fears of the future.

Just one kiss and I'm in a land
I never knew existed.
Just one look at you
and I let go of my kite.
Holding you
is more than just right

TEMPTRESS

This is an answer to my mother goose's request... been trying to write poetry again Mir, so here is one of the recent ones...hope to talk to you soon...

Love me,
hate me
I'm a rose
that blooms
in charm
and deception...

Love me,
hate me
I'll take away
your strength
render you helpless
and reward you
with bliss
that isn't almost
real...

Love me,
hate me
you'll never find out
why...

WORRIED ABOUT YOUR FUTURE?

Thanks to Father Shay for his incredible mission...

Huge fire balls from massive bush fires engulfed homes and incinerated unfortunate people in South Australia, the result of prolonged drought while massive floods swamped the North Territories. In the Caribbean, massive storms greater than previously experienced created havoc and loss of life and property. Europe and North America have been hit with ice and snowstorms greater than previous years. Climatic extremes are on the increase and they are not a natural occurrence these days unlike 12,000 and half a million years ago. Then climate change came slowly and the earth and plants and animals had time to adapt, change and survive.

Ever since the “Big Bang” and the universe came into being, heat has been at the center of life - and death. Life on earth depends on the sun, a fraction to close and we fry, a fraction more distant and we freeze. In the past, the slight changes in the earth¹s rotation, a tiny tilt of its axis caused the planet to heat up or cool down. That was natural climate change over eons but now human industrial activity has caused a huge increase in global warming by releasing millions of tons of Carbon Dioxide(CO2) and methane into the atmosphere in the last 100 years.

These gases form a blanket around the earth, a transparent one, as if putting the planet into a greenhouse - hence Greenhouse gases. The rays of the sun can penetrate but the resulting heat cannot be reflected back out into space because the gases block its escape. The ice sheet at the North Pole used to be a great reflector but it is melting so fast that even the Polar bears could be wiped out.

Those living in the developed nations consume more and burn more fossil fuel than the all the poor nations combined. However, making the matter worse, India and China have almost equaled the C02 emission rates of North America. We are all responsible for global warming when we buy products that are not Fair-Trade and damage the environment. When the Philippines and Vietnam were targeted as sites for shrimp farms to feed the Japanese market, government officials allowed the dense bushy mangroves to be bulldozed for shrimp ponds. Millions of tons of methane gas was released from the marsh lands and millions of tons of CO2 was released when the bushes were burnt. With the rapid rise in world temperatures, the Siberian and Canadian permafrost is melting and releasing billions of tons of methane, more dense and dangerous than CO2.

Nature creates its own CO2 emissions helped by criminal arsonists. In 2007, in seven days of wildfires, an estimated 8.7 millions tons of CO2 was released making a denser global blanket. The Australian bush fires will add millions of tons more. Wildfires in the USA pump 322 Million tons of Carbon Dioxide every year into the atmosphere. An estimated 145-255 million tons of CO2 are given off by Volcanoes. The planet cant cope and absorb this huge amount, most of the rain forests that absorb CO2 are gone. If this goes on and the amount of CO2 released reaches 3000 gigatones, then that's the tipping point for the Greenland ice sheet, it melts. Oceans rise and coast line and islands sink. I saw a Google picture of Greenland and it looks like a third has melted already. Human consumption and production activities pumps six gigatones of CO2 per year but the planet can only absorb 3 gigatones a year. A gigaton is one billion metric tons. One billion metric tons is what one cubic kilometer(one billion cubic meters) of water weighs. It boggles the mind and almost unimaginable.

Each of us can do something to reduce our carbon footprint and reduce global warming. We can drive less, take the bus, ride a train instead of a plane, turn off unneeded power appliances to reduce energy use, consume less beef. Did you know that one cow gives off 400 liters of methane a day? There are billions of them doing that. Rain forests are being cut to provide pasture, grow corn to feed them. Malaria spreads as mosquitoes thrive in rising temperatures.

In the Philippines, 92 percent of the rain forests have been logged out. We can campaign against deforestation, coal-fired power plants and instead we can join the Preda Fair-Trade tree planting project and lobby for solar, wind and geothermal power generation. We can save the planet and the polar bear and thousands of beautiful species, even ourselves. END

Visit www.preda.org for more related articles.

I CELEBRATE INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY

"There's a place I know where you can touch a woman for free ... her heart"

Too sleepy to add anything to this tonight. I forgot all about the movie from which I got this line. It was spoken by an old man to a young boy. I was too struck to ever forget this line. I was in high school and it forever changed the way I looked at myself. I have a poem for this quote above, but it's not finished yet. An exact contradiction. Wanted to show the team from Mars how they should be watching their steps. This is Venus's turf. Well, anyway. This is National Women's Day, I remember my feminist side hehe

But then again, I know it's more than that. If only I can be as gentle and at the same time strong like Mary....hmmm...

I'M OVER YOU

Reposting a poem I wrote a few years back :) Been trying out poetry again to no avail!! urgh....

The hemorrhage stopped,
and wounds healing now,
the beating, normal.

Now I can look at you
straight in the eye,
straight from my heart--
stitches and all.

I may be traumatized
to feel your pride
cut through the flesh.
I may cringe
just from the thought
of you and me in the past.

Such a crime.
But it's all worth it anyway.
You're damned
to be imprisoned
inside your own
ignorant heart.

Life sentence.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7

Feb 14 was their scheduled family day, so son and I went to see hubby. I have to be honest. That was the lamest wedding anniversary for me. No flowers, no fine dining, no romantic movie, not even a greeting card. As my dear friend Mira would say, nada. Zilch. None. Zero. But God taught me something that made the day even much memorable. He wanted me to give. Just GIVE. And he wanted me to be happy while doing it.

My husband wanted so much for me and our son to go see him. His excitement was undeniable the night before when we were texting. And so we went, despite heavy rain and looming storm. The travel was too long, inconvenient, tiring. I had to fake a smile to his comrades when he proudly and most happily introduced us. Abe was just as excited to see Tatay. He sang him songs, he recited his poem, he answered questions from his 'interviewers'.

That day I made the two most important men in my life very happy. I thank God for coaxing me to do it. After all, that's what love, truly, is all about. Didn't he himself prove it, by dying on the Cross for us?

Dear Lord, may you always show me the ways to real Christianity, to real love, real happiness, and peace. Thank you for your compassion to all my angst, anger, impatience, discontent. Thank you for being there, and for keeping my husband and me strong amidst temptations. May you be glorified in my little sacrifices, and may I be pleasing to you always. Amen.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."-- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

5TH YEAR, TODAY

Cannot think of anything right now, I am overwhelmed with sadness and disappointment because he won't be home...I pray for God's light to illuminate in my mind and heart. More than anything, I know I should be grateful and celebrate the day he brought me and my husband together...For better or for worse...in sickness and in health...till death do us part...

I'll come up with a belated anniversary blog. Perhaps our love story. Something like that.

Is love out there

and beckoning

Is it suspended

in the air?

I want so much

to breathe that in

I want you

to be there.

There's no more way

to numb the pain

Sometimes I just

get tired to care

I've never gone

to neverland

I knew

you won't be there

Do you hear me

or do you know?

I've gone to hell,

I tried to dare

Just so I'd find out

what it'd cost

For you to come,

you should be here ...

OUT OF THE COCOON

It’s been almost a month since hubby left again not knowing when he would have the chance to come home and see us. For security purposes, they’re not allowed to use their cellphones, which I personally find really retarded. The first week, I was a stone’s throw from losing my wits. Why, what wife wouldn’t lose her mind when she doesn’t have any idea as to her husband’s whereabouts. It’s like walking towards a cliff, backwards. Anyway, this blog isn’t about venting or anything like that. I want to keep my hopes, no matter how frail if not elusive they are most of the time.

Last night he called. They were given an hour break and get in touch with their loved ones through phone. I was blabbering, trying to sound casual as I didn’t want crying bouts to start. He was just listening most of the time, telling me how much he missed me, how wonderful my voice sounded, describing to me how magical the fireflies can look at night. He watches their nightly performance, the best that he can look forward to, at the end of the day. I told him Feb 14 is fast approaching. We will be reaching our 5th year of being married. God knows how much I pray for him to be there on that day. Nevertheless, I got my own plans. Me and my officemates have already booked a private videoke room. I won’t have time to be manic-depressive. I promise.

He was able to give me their exact location. Today we drove to that faraway town, to that primitive sounding barangay, and to where we saw their little makeshift tents erected proudly, but rather grotesquely, at least for me. Papang had a plan. We would pretend something’s wrong with the engine. That would give us at least 10 minutes. And so the engine ‘went dead’ right in front of the camp gate. How marvelous. Anyway, we didn’t see him. I suspected he was trying to hide up on that tower where he said he was assigned as a sniper. Whether he saw us or not, I didn’t think it mattered. It was enough for me that our son saw where his Tatay stays, while he’s away from us. As we drove away, I took two desperate shots. Just to try and capture the moment. In this first photo, Abe’s hand is shown waving. “Babay Tataaaayyy!!!”

It tugs at my heart, of course. Leaves this kind of pang that has become so familiar over the years. But I don’t have any choice but to stay strong, have I? “Nurture strength of spirit for sudden misfortunes” as my present mantra from Desiderata would say.

I praise and thank the Lord for being my pillar, for being a friend who doesn’t get tired of me. After some period of darkness I am out again, wanting to be excited for the happy days.

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY: our part-time office assistant

QUESTIONS, ENDLESS LIKE THE SEAS

I wrote this while my son and I were having our vacation over a month ago. A bit timely to post right now.

I want my life to get going. I am in a hurry to achieve things. I can’t wait to get things done.

The question is: HOW?

I am not for myself anymore, I am for my husband, and my son. I cannot purposely decide alone but with my husband, what to do with our life, and how to do it. Right now there is a long wait … I have been waiting.

And so I go away. To try and look deeper into myself, while there is no other choice. I guess God has intended for me to be left with no other options. So that I can listen to him. Well, after all, that’s what he always wanted. To get my full attention.

Okay God, here I am. What do you do with a reluctant heart? What do you do with a lukewarm spirit? What do you do with a lazy, apathetic, coward warrior like me? You spit me out I know. You cut me out like a dead branch and put me to fire.

You have equipped me with things I need for this journey. But most of the time I screw it up. At times I play God. I plan, I rely on my own knowledge and skills. I look down on people who don’t agree with my principles. I complain, A LOT.

I keep pinning my hope at the other side of the fence, choosing to ignore the ones in my side of it. Because I am never content. And I always find reasons to justify it.

Once in a while I am envious of what other people have, how they live their life, how even if they seem not to be perfect, they are happy and satisfied. Sometimes I wonder, do they still want something? Do they also cry in their pillows at night? If ever they too have regrets, what are those?

Funny, but somehow deep inside me I know, the same questions are in the minds of others. Who knows somebody out there is also envious of me, how I live my life, what I have. Oh, the ironies of life. How do I make sense of them?

Here, along these shores I hope to find some answers.

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY: YOVILLE BUFF

SNIPPETS OF CHRISTMAS JOY

Can hardly wait for Christmas Eve

Every Christmas, Lolo Papang makes a special Belen

Lola Mamang and Lolo Papang leading the liturgy

Hubby is sharing his Christmas reflection

Daw la ka nalipay haw?


That's more like it

I wanted hubby and me to really wrap gifts for each other.

Need I say more?



Thank you Lord for the gift of yourself to us. Thank you for making us deserving of your love and salvation. Happy Birthday!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I know we should be posting our Christmas family photo, like everyone else. But I've been meaning to post this poem below as my Christmas gift to my friends. After all, this season is also about inward journey, what do we have inside that the Lord will be happy about? I pray this poem bless you guys, like it did to me.

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others,
even the dull and ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be critical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.

But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be careful.
Strive to be happy.

© Max Ehrmann 1927

WORLDLESS WEDNESDAY: this is what happens when you leave your son with his grandfather

VACATION POST

On the third day of our vacation, an ambush happened up the mountains where my husband was undergoing a scout training. One of his female colleagues died instantly after being hit in the head. I didn't have the slightest idea what fright my husband was experiencing that day, for the first time in his life. My youngest sister, who is also a cop and that time was also vacationing in Manila got a text from one of her fellows and forwarded it to my father. The rest of my family were gripped with fear for my husband's life...

The ambush happened at around 2pm. My son and I were having our siesta. A few minutes past 2, I suddenly awoke, jumped out of bed for reasons I didn't know. I was just restless, wide-eyed, clueless. But my mind was filled with thoughts of my husband.

And so while my husband was up there in the middle of the battle, I was writing something about him, thoughts so far away from his present reality...


It has been four days since we came here, in the place where you first came as a little Manila boy, and grew up to be one of the chauvinist males of your clan. There hasn’t been much change since you first brought me here, almost eight years ago, to meet your family. I guess that is always the way with places close the seas. People and things don’t seem to grow old.

It was surreal to watch our son play with some of the toys you grew up with. The little dinosaur with sharp scary fins, the black and white little piano from which your sister said you composed a few melodies, young as you were. We slept on your bed, in your room that still has the sticker on the door that says: “No Smoking”.

The other night I feasted my eyes on the old photographs, most of them moistened and damaged from several storms that your Mom said had gone by. Through tainted colors I looked at you, a young boy, often misunderstood and labeled, “Naughty”. There is one picture of you holding a cigarette in your mouth, while your Dad and the rest look on with much amusement. No wonder you grew up struggling how to quit smoking ;) There are other photos of you, in high school prom with your date. There’s one of you, beside your first love. You’re right, you were a heartthrob. How dare I make you wait for over a year.

If given the chance I want us to live here. The memories even though sad, are so rich I can’t help but smile despite myself when I think of you recalling each detail of your life here. In here, I am reminded how simple and less complicated life should be. That is what you are, that is how you look at things. And I want such spirit to contaminate mine. If only Gabriel can grow up to be like you -- knows how to spell trouble, but childlike enough to get over them quickly.

Walking down the path to your childhood makes me feel blessed to have found you and loved you and welcomed you into my life. From where my own beginnings have come from, we will meet halfway, we will make something out of our pasts, and we will make it rich for our son. I also want him to have memories to go home to, every once in a while and thank us for them.

I thank God for protecting him and keeping him safe that very day, that very moment I was writing the blog. Just now I realized, the thoughts I wrote down was my prayer for his safety, for a more normal life that I have been longing for our family. And God heared me, he himself put the prayers to my lips.

The following day, Mamang texted saying hubby was home. I had to cut my vacation short. My son and I rushed home that very night. When we came he was out to see another wounded comrade in the hospital. Papang showed me a text message that he said had frightened them to their wits end. They all decided not to let me know. Indeed they knew too well what to do.

Now, Abe and I are home with my battle-scarred husband. His skin bearing all the marks of the ardous training. He talks about the ambush, how he froze when the moment he loaded his rifle, our son's face flashed before him, he talks about how they saw traces of the rebels' blood...

I am hoping soon enough he will talk about our wish for a more normal life. Things have simply been too horrific to handle...

STOPPING TO SMELL THE FLOWERS

Well, not exactly flowers. I'm smelling the sea breeze, for a week.

The world will continue to revolve. Seasons, although they are becoming more and more abnormal, will still come and go. Terrorists will keep planning how to destroy the world. Worldwide economy will struggle as, not quite surprisingly, it should be. Survival of the fittest, indeed.

So I am forcing myself to go on vacation, to try and keep myself as fit as possible. I choose to keeping thinking that this life isn't about any battle. Rather is it about pursuit of happiness and peace that everyone deserves. Everyday there are endless questions, there are endless wondering and wandering, even endless fears for the future, for what is around the bend. And sometimes the answers lie in the simplest things, occasion, moments.

As for me, I often hear them being spoken by the seas...

JUST HERE

Been hiding in my private blog site. I guess there will always be things better left untold. Sometimes pain for me can mean so itsy bitsy tiny for others, that's when I choose not to share it. A lot of times I am also aware that each of us has got things to do for their own lives. So I'd rather not bother anybody with anything. Or perhaps, as for me, sometimes I just don't want to be bothered.

Amo na gid na ya ang pinaka "Ako" hehehehe.

WORLDLESS WEDNESDAY: My Little Architect

MISSING TATAY

"Nay, na sad gid ko bala.Kay na miss ko gid si Tatay." (Nay, I'm really sad. Because I miss Tatay.)

Abe held my head in his hands, looked me straight in the eye and told me that. It pierced my heart. Hubby has been away for a month already, for a two-month scout training. What's worse is that their batch will be sent to the war in Mindanao. I think the government is this desperate enough to send policemen to a real battle. I hate Philippine National Police more than ever. With the recent scandal involving their higher officials, I need not elaborate more. Ours is just one of those untold stories of those working for the so-called safety of the government.

More than two weeks ago, one of his co-trainees died. He collapsed in the middle of their road run. Reports tell of a heat stroke. The family was shouting foulplay, and demanded an autopsy. The result never got to the media. Which made the case a lot more interesting.

The other day hubby appeared at our doorstep, unannounced. He had to tell a big lie just to have a few hours respite with us. I was taken aback at how he sobbed on my shoulder like a child. The guy who died was his friend and he is greatly affected considering that he saw him fall to the ground and struggle for his life. Life at the training camp became twice as hell, having to undergo the trauma and grief at the same time.

I'm hurting for my husband. I'm crying the tears that he is not allowed to shed back at that hellhole. I feel the pain that he is too confused to name. I fear for his fears that almost consume him. He said it was different when he was single, when challenging death was fun. Getting married and having a son made him such a coward. And I am proud of him for being so.

I pray God give him strength and sustain him 21 days more. May he be empowered not only physically but most of all spiritualy. I may never know what kind of anguish he is into right now, but I will stay strong and wait and endure the present darkness - for him.

"This too shall pass" is his mantra. I pray it keeps him alive. Family is waiting.

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY: Superman and Tando-Tando

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAROLAYNAAA!!

It's my friend Caroline's birthday and I thought of something different for her: Torture her with our younger days back in Brgy Bata. Bwahahaha.

Laying out these photos has brought me back down memory lane, with Caroline, how we met and how together we grew up into adulthood, learning things and letting them mold us and be who we are now.

Caroline and I are an obvious contrast. She's wacky, I'm serious. She's noisy, I'm quiet. She's adventurous, I am cautious. She loves to dance, I hate it. But there was one common denominator: we were both thirsty for the Lord, eager to get to know him and serve him whichever way it would bring us. Remembering our Singles for Christ days is never complete without her in the picture. Why, she was the very first friend I made, being underage and almost not allowed to join the organization. The allowed age was 21 up. She was only 17, and I was turning 19. It was God bringing us together, because we got in!!

Quite recently, she sort of hurt my feelings. And I, well sort of, hurt her back (Bwahahaha). But the things that a cat friend would do to mend our friendship! It humbled me and showed me that no matter how different we are, we have already become part of each other's life, whether we like it or not.

Miss you Car. I miss the way you wanted me, and only me when you were hurting. I miss the sleep over at your house, the jogging at Roselawns, the whole-night talks. No one would tell me such shocking revealations like you did. No one would let me laugh so hard till I cry for mercy. No one would attack our house, break into my mosquito net and shove bibingka down my throat, like you did. I miss that and when you're here, we will eat bibingka till we turn green.

DID YOU BELIEVE IN SANTA?

I was six years old when I found out the shocking truth. That Santa Claus was a fairy tale :( I wanted so much to see him, catch him putting gifts under our Christmas tree. So I woke up much earlier in the morning, i tiptoed down the stairs only to see our mother, also on her toes, putting goodies under our Christmas tree. I was breathing heavily and I wanted to cry. Instead, I slowly and silently took the steps back to our bedroom. Our three other younger siblings depended their Christmas delight on those Christmas socks and presents galore from Santa. I couldn't just ruin it.

So now, it's time to pass on the torch! lol A friend asked me, if later my son also finds out about the 'shocking truth' what will I do? I keep thinking and thinking about a contingency plan, but I couldn't come up with anything. For now I will just let my Abe be the child that he is supposed to be.

Abe's first Christmas sock

See the obvious delight in his face the first time he woke up to find his Chrismas sock containing goodies? A week later he thought of a brilliant idea. He hang a big plastic bag instead! How hilarious. And before he went to sleep, he shoved in some of his toys in the bag saying, "Para dugangan na lang ni Santa Claus." (So that Santa will only be adding something into it) I told him that he's breaking the tradition, to his feisty protests. Now I think I will have to look for a really big sock.

I never got to talk to my parents about their 'lie'. Nevertheless Santa Claus brought me much delight as a little girl and it's all that matters. Because of it, Christmas became my most favorite season of the year, like most of us. Imagine Jesus Christ being born and we all would have to celebrate and exchange gifts?? I tell the same story to my Gabriel, so that he too, will have something to tell his children someday.

Now, for a contingency plan...

CELEBRATING 33

Reflecting on the 33 years God has allowed my life, I came up with 33 things I discovered along my journey...

1. Life isn't about choosing the lesser evil. Evil should never be an option.

2. Nothing is indespensable. So I delete my inbox. But print some first :)

3. Friends aren't friends when they don't argue. So I stay away from them.

4. Never miss a good opportunity to shut up. It can spare you from shame.

5. The world will not stop for my tears. I cry, and sometimes I have to cry alone.

6. Laughter isn't the best medicine. Sometimes it gives me abdominal pain :)

7. But laughter keeps me young. So I laugh some more.

8. Learn poetry. You'll be surprised to know you already have it.

9. Dancing in the rain is romantic. But sometimes it gives me colds.

10.Less is more. So the less I blog, the more friends will clamour for it *nyehehe*

11.More is less. The more I talk, the less I'm being heard and understood.

12.I'm living heaven on earth. Gabriel is my little piece of heaven.

13.God loves me enough to stay silent once in a while. That will teach me forbearance.

14.It's okay if someone forgets my birthday. I forget birthdays, too.

15.Hubby can't be around always. Sometimes I have to pee at midnight - alone. So I bought my
'arenola'.

16. Once in a while, money can buy happiness. Plane tickets are expensive.

17. Bedtime stories is my father's greatest gift to me. So I pass it on to Gabriel.

18. The way to my man's heart is through his feet.

19. Saying I love you when you don't really mean it, is almost a blasphemy.

20. When someone gives me advice, I look at how he lives his life. Then I decide if I follow his advice or not.

21. I had to be a mother first before I could truly understand my own mother.

22. Dreaming is believing. How to make it happen is another story.

23. Finish at least one book in 3 months. It will keep you at par with the world.

24. Learn about computers. But keep your typewriter.

25. Share your life story. It will make you immortal.

26. When you promised someone you'll pray for them, mean it.

27. When saying sorry is hard, I don't say it. I do it.

28. Sometimes friends don't have to be frank. Reality does bite.

29. Love is a decision.

30. Also happiness.

31. And faith.

32. I am the captain of my soul. But a captain must have a compass.

33. So God is my compass.

BIRTHDAY

I'll let the photos speak for themselves for now...

YOU SHALL NOT MOCK GOD

Came across this article in our www.misyononline.com/misyonforum Kind of dropped my jaw and left me speechless. I'm reposting this just to share, hoping this will get you guys thinking.


DID YOU KNOW THESE FACTS?

Death is certain but the Bible speaks about untimely death! Make a personal reflection about this...Very interesting, read until the end....

It is written in the Bible (Galatians 6:7):'Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man sow, that shall he also reap.

Here are some men and women who mocked God:

John Lennon (Singer):Some years before, during his interview with an American Magazine, he said: 'Christianity will end, it will disappear. I do not have to argue about that. I am certain. Jesus was ok, but his subjects were too simple, today we are more famous than Him' (1966). Lennon, after saying th at the Beatles were more famous than Jesus Christ, was shot six times.

Tancredo Neves (President of Brazil):During the Presidential campaign, he said if he got 500,000 votes from his party, not even God would remove him from Presidency. Sure he got the votes, but he got sick a day before being made President, then he died.

Cazuza (Bi-sexual Brazilian composer, singer and poet): During A show in Canecio ( Rio de Janeiro ), while smoking his cigarette, he puffed out some smoke into the air and said:’ God, that's for you.' He died at the age of 32 of LUNG CANCER in a horrible manner.

The man who built the Titanic: After the construction of Titanic, a reporter asked him how safe the Titanic would be. With an ironic tone he said: 'Not even God can sink it' The result: I think you all know what happened to the Titanic. Marilyn Monroe (Actress): She was visited by Billy Graham during a presentation of a show. He said the Spirit of God had sent him to preach to her. After hearing what the Preacher had to say, she said: 'I don't need your Jesus'. A week later, she was found dead in her apartment.

Bon Scott (Singer): The ex-vocalist of the AC/DC. On one of his 1979 songs he sang:'Don't stop me; I'm going down all the way, down the highway to hell'.On the 19th of February 1980, Bon Scott was found dead, he had been choked by his own vomit.

Campinas (IN 2005): In Campinas , Brazil a group of friends, drunk, went to pick up a friend...The mother accompanied her to the car and was so worried about the drunkenness of her friends and she said to the daughter holding her hand, who was already seated in the car: 'My Daughter, Go With God And May He Protect You.'She responded: 'Only If He (God) Travels In The Trunk, Cause Inside Here...It's Already Full 'Hours later, news came by that they had been involved in a fatal accident, everyone had died, the car could not be recognized what type of car it had been, but surprisingly, the trunk was intact. The police said there was no way the trunk could have remained intact. To their surprise, inside the trunk was a crate of eggs, none was broken.

Christine Hewitt (Jamaican Journalist and entertainer):Said the Bible (Word of God) was the worst book ever written. In June 2006 she was found burnt beyond recognition in her motor vehicle.

Many more important people have forgotten that there is no other name that was given so much authority as the name of Jesus. Many have died, but only Jesus died and rose again, and He is still alive.

WOUNDED WARRIOR

Everything I want to say right now, is in this song...




I need you God. The warrior is wounded.

TRIBUTE TO MY MOTHERGOOSE

I met Mira at Singles for Christ gathering in 1995. Since then, God assigned her to be my mothergoose. *wide grin*

Up till today, it is a wonderment on my part how she believes I am one of the best. Truly, it humbles me and blesses me to have her as a friend, believing in me and treasuring me like I were a priceless stone. When I think of her, I think of how God is so fond of me.

Back in college, she would often visit me at school, always with something to eat. She would patiently wait for my classes to finish and would just watch me devour whatever food she brought with her. She would smile her sweetest and most content smile watching me eat heartily. And then we would talk the hours away, most of the time it would be me talking and she would listen to me with incredible eagerness. We both love dissecting things that we see, touch, feel, hear. And I guess that's one thing that keeps us glued to each other, up to this day, no matter the distance.

I love her in a way that I cannot put into words. It's not only because she loves me perhaps even more, not only because she's my mothergoose, but because God has put both of us through similar paths to pain and suffering. And because of it, we find meaning in the slightest, tiniest detail of our lives. Mira has got the most profound mind I have ever known. Her words of wisdom is, to me, an oaises in the desert.

Because it's her birthday, I've come up with a little trivia about her.

1. Loves The Carpenters and can sing their songs too well!
2. Petpeeve: noisy, shallow people
3. Donuts will never be donuts without coffee
4. Superb cook. 'superb' meaning the best, amazing, you'll forget your name
5. She was once crazy over the name Luis *naughty grin*
6. She named her daughter after my favorite author Maeve Binchy
7. She named her son after my beloved mentor Fr Niall O'Brien
8. Loves to watch CSI
9. She still memorizes lines from Bugs Bunny
10. She talks to the sunset. Most of the time, it talks back. *sheepeesh grin*

Happy birthday Mir. You have no idea how much I miss you, how much I long for the days when I would run to you and be the child that nobody understands. I always had you to save my day, and I miss that. When I am at my worst, you know too well how to help me bounce back, you got the right words to hush my stubborn heart. You tame me, by letting me go and wander and explore. You argue with me, by agreeing first and listening to what I want to say. 'You are the crowd that sits quiet, listening to me and all the mad sense I make' so goes our favorite song. Thank you, for all that you are to me.

I love this photo. She's a picture of happiness here.

Look at that...so touching. Willy is an amazing dad and husband to Mira
and I thank God for that.

My favorite photo of Niall!! I was laughing too hard at my own caption.

TAGGED BY CAT

FOUR PLACES I GO OVER AND OVER

1. Pta Taytay beach ... for the breeze and of course sisi
2. The mall ... for movies and whatnot
3. Divisoria (at least whenever I'm in Manila nyehehe)
4. Mambucal mountain resort ... for the sulfur spa

FOUR PEOPLE WHO EMAIL ME REGULARLY

1. Bo Sanchez (nyahahaha)
2. Hannah
3. My Boss
4. Mitzi

FOUR OF MY FAVORITE PLACES TO EAT

1. Kaesei
2. McDo ... for sundae caramel yum yum!!
3. Abboy's
4. Buto't Balat


FOUR PLACES I'D RATHER BE

1. Baguio
2. Boracay
3. Italy
4. Canada


FOUR TV SHOWS I COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER

1. I wish Ally McBeal is still alive
2. Alias
3. Pinoy Dream Academy
4. Kyle xy

I don't know who else in my list I can tag. So I tag...EVERYBODY! hehehe tags are fun! A cool getting-to-know-you activity...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HANNAH!!

You have blessed me with good things and plenty
and surrounded my table with friends
their love and their laughter enrich me
together we sing your praise...


When I think of my friend Hannah, it makes me want to sing these lines from Dan Schutte's "All My Days".

I met her through my late boss and mentor Fr Niall O'Brien. Like Fr Niall, she too is a foreigner in love with anything Filipino. She speaks basic Tagalog and so proud of it! A videoke queen, she sings Tagalog classics like a pro! She loves adobo, lechon manok, tinolang bangus. She has an English-Ilonggo Bible, too. Her house has a little museum of all her precious Filipino collections from Philippine flag, to mugs, to statues. Name it, she just might have it! Her favorite hero? Jose Rizal. Her favorite saint? San Lorenzo Ruiz. She named her son Joseph Lorenzo.

Joseph's father is a Filipino hailing from the same town where Fr Niall lived and served for many years. Fr Niall's death brought us closer together as we grieved and reminisced beautiful memories we both were privileged to share with him. It is a gift we both are thankful for.

I am continually amazed at how many times she's helped me through the dark moments of my life, when she too, is struggling to make it through. In a lot of ways, she is a sister, a family who is there for me and with me, no matter the distance. I think God especially sent her to tell me how important and loved I am. Because that's how she makes me feel.

She's visited the Philippines a few times and each visit is never complete without coming to Bacolod to see us. As much as I want to share her photos here, I can't. Like me, she doesn't want to be photographed. hehe So instead I am sharing a photo-video I made for Joseph, for his birthday three week ago. This has made her cry a river already so I'm trying my best to avoid making this little tribute melodramatic.




Happy birthday, dear friend. Thank you for the gift of friendship. Thank you for spoiling me with books, chocolates, praises, encouragement, prayers, laughter, tears. Thank you for treasuring and loving Abe like your own son, it means so much to me. He will grow up loving Tita Hannah who not only spoils him, too, with books, toys and whatnot, but also draws sharks for him via webcam. It is not by chance that our paths had crossed, but by divine intervention as you call it.

Sometimes it is not easy to keep believing in the midst of tribulation, but with a friend like you, life becomes worth living.

ON LOVE

"You should never love somebody any more than love yourself, you should never give your whole world to anybody because when they go away they take everything." - J Reyes

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEBANG!

It's my sister Genevieve's (also popularly known sa Bebang to friends and family) birthday today. This blog is all about the things I am grateful for being her sister, as my way of honoring her.


She sacrificed two years in college just for me. Back then the three of us were in college, not to mention the two others in high school. Food on the table was more important than tuition fee. Our parents said only one can continue college. Bebang said if she stopped, she can look for jobs. I had to keep going because I had the chance to be the school paper editor and if I stopped, I was too shy to look for jobs. She had the chance to be cum laude. But she let it go, just for me. *sniff sniff!*


She joined beauty pageants to earn money for us. She would usually take home food from parties she attended to. One time she woke me up excited to show me my pasalubong, a pair of pearl earings. I didn't even smile because I was annoyed that she had to wake me up for it.

Once it was my birthday. She was broke so her birthday gift to me was she was my 'slave' for the whole day. She cooked, cleaned, washed my clothes.


When Reinee courted me at home for the first time, I went home to find her busy cleaning up. She was too excited for her younger sister's suitor that she even prepared a little snack for us. Sandiya. Nyahaha.


It was her who encouraged me to join activities in school, saying they would be good for me. I complied, on condition that we join together. Even in community activities we were both active, she, having found and lead a youth organization which became known in our place. Those activities have helped me, indeed, to get out of my shell and share myself to others.


I was too unresourceful, so lacking of confidence and guts, too dependent on her financially and who knows what else. But I never heard her complain even once, never did I feel that I was a burden to her, especially when we were in college and living independently from our parents. Instead, she was my number one fan, cheering me on every step of the way...up to this day.

That's inday. The 'most' in many ways.

Most kulit, most thoughtful, most drama queen, most resourceful, most isug, most tralala, most palakaon, most traidora....


Most faithful to God. The one thing that has blessed me in ways I cannot count.


Happy birthday!! mwah mwah mwah!! i lab u to me der to u por eber today ebreting olways. (iya na style)

My Gabriel turns three!!!

I wake up to pee and find something pinkish in my underwear. I go back to sit on our bed, I close my eyes and say a short prayer of abandonment. This is it. I'm giving birth. I wake hubby up who in an instant gets up and panick a little bit. I am calm though nervous with anticipation.

At the clinic, the contraction becomes more and more intense but still gives me time to breathe, smile and joke around. Until I am brought to delivery room. Forty-five minutes later, Gabriel comes out and cries his first, announcing the great joy that he brings along. It is a miracle. He is a miracle...


Today, my son turns three!!! Like I always do, I wear the very dress I wore when I had him. I bring out the home pregnancy kit that we used when we found out we're pregnant. (and show it to Abe who, in turn asks me curious questions about it) I bring my son with me to work just to make sure I spend the whole 24 hours with him, savoring the joy of being a mother and thanking God for making me deserving to be one. Just how I wish hubby was around to share this day with us.



















5:30 am, November 30, 2004. We're pregnant!!

In between contractions...
Because of hubby I was brave more than I had ever thought...




















Mother and son in action...



Tonight, as I put him to sleep, his prayer was a song that hushed all the stress of my busy life away. "Papa Jesus tenk yu gid kay gin gaan mo ko laptop (Nanay Dit's bday gift, a toy laptop), gin gaan mo kami higligdaan, tenk yu gid kay may nanay ko kag tatay, kag yaya.Tenk yu kay may kamot kami kg tiil kag may head. Tenk yu gid kay gin gaan mo kami food kag milk. Ay lab yu Papa Jesus.Happy birtday to me." (Papa Jesus, thank you so much for giving me laptop, you gave us bed to sleep on, thank you so much for giving me Mom and Dad and nanny. thank you because we have hands and feet and head.Thank you so much for giving us food and milk. I love you Papa Jesus. Happy birthday to me.)



Three years of being a parent. I'm praying for many more years to be blessed by it.


PS: We celebrated Abe's birthday last weekend to give his tatay a chance to be there, whose work schedule allow him to be home every other day. I share Abe's birthday photos only to friends in my multiply and friendster account.

FRIEND OF PAIN

Million Miles Away
Joey Albert

I'd love to make you mine
'Cause it's the only way to hold you
In my wild imagination
Still I don't know how
To grab a chance and spend some time in just
A simple conversation

Chorus:
Just give it a try
Though I'm not chasing rainbows in the sky
I wanna hold you in my dreams
And make believe that it's true
Although I know, I know
That it's impossible to do
' Cause you're a star
People love you as you are
You're a million miles away from me

Wish that you were here
'Cause it's illusions everytime you're close to me
And sing me love songs
And it's the only way I could tell the world I love you
Although you're a million miles away
Chorus 2: Just give it a try
Though I'm not chasing rainbows in the sky
I wanna hold you in my dreams
And make believe that it's true
Although I know, I know
That it's impossible to do
'Cause you're a star
You're a star You're a star
You're a million miles away from me


I'm a sucker for sentimental pieces. These days what's helping me cope with stress is learning new chords and singing till I bleed. Interestingly, I feel light and rejuvinated each time. I wonder is that normal at all? I was having migraine attack for almost a week. And what ended it was when I got my guitar and learned Joey Albert's Million Miles Away. I was so happy to learn the song and I played and sang it the whole day, while Abe and I were alone to ourselves.

They say that if you want to stay focused and positive in your life, you have to stop listening to songs that tell of madness. But as for me, it works when I listen to these crap, as others may call it. I don't know if that has something to do with being self-proclaimed manic-depressive, loner, pain-addict. But being like this has allowed me to be a friend to many. And I thank God for it. I thank him for giving me the opportunity to share his love even if that means being constantly broken.

Most of my friends right now are going through difficult situations. Problems and concerns that leave them helpless and in despair. Everday, I listen to them, give them words to hang on to, feel their pain, their anguish, their complaints, even their anger. I stay strong and steadfast for them, but sometimes I fail. Because I, too, got my own cross to carry. I, too, got my own fears. Although that really doesnt keep me from being the peer counsellor that I believe I was made to be. In dissecting other poeple's pain, I get the chance to look deeper into myself, too, and discover hidden strength needed for a lifelong journey.


Very important PS: I really want to get the right chords to this song. I've looked up the internet to no avail. So if by chance you guys happen to come across any hope for me...*wink!wink!wink!*

THE LAUGHTER MY GABRIEL CAN BRING

Tita Dit-Dit is always tripping on my Gabriel. What better past time than playing with him and laughing her throat out of her mouth.

SCHOOL TIME!

Today was Gabriel's first day in school. Me, hubby, and doting Tita DitDit paraded with the little pupil to school. It was all so surreal. My son is taking his first step to the world. I was overwhelmed with mixed emotions. Tita Dit had tears in her eyes and I just managed to hold back mine.

Gabriel enjoyed meeting his classmates for the first time. When I bought his uniform a couple of weeks ago, he insisted on wearing them so he can go to school right away. It was 7pm and he was all set for school. With the degree of his excitement, I didn't have the heart to disappoint him so I tried dissuading him by trying out a bit of declamation. "Your classmates are already asleep!" "Let's wake them up!" goes his very positive reply. "Your teacher is also asleep already!" "No she can't be sleeping, because I'm going to school!" End of this paragraph. Need I say more?

So today, when his teacher said "Okay say good morning to your classmates." He stood up, looked around, searched for me standing at the back, smiled from ear to ear and exclaimed, "Look Naynay! I have classmates! They're awake already!"

He was the only one who kept standing up to approach his teacher and ask things like "Teacher, where is my lunchbox? Teacher, where is my Nanay Dit?" It will take him maybe a month or two before he will finally be able to get the hang of it all. If later I'll see that he's not enjoying anymore, I can just let him stop. Anyway, he's just turning 3 this coming August so he can still very well stay at home and I can teach him when I'm back from work. He's a very social kid, though. He enjoyes being around people, both old and young. So I can almost imagine how much he will keep liking school, rather than staying at home alone with yaya, all day, missing Nanay and Tatay.

The week before, I had to miss work just bring him to his first day in school. I was so excited the night before I hardly slept. The next morning, we got up earlier than usual of course, and prepared for school. Only to be disappointed. They postponed the classes and moved the date till the following week. How awful, I was so annoyed deep inside.

This part in italics is a sort of a continuation to this blog. Things got in the way of finishing this. I was hopitalized, the recent storm, no internet connection and electrity...some other things.

Anyway, somehow Gabriel enjoys school but I can't say to the fullest. Nanny says he easily gets bored. Like one time they were asked to draw a circle. He did draw a circle but added legs to the circle saying he's making it into a spider. So I'm kind of playing it by ear, I might just let him stop this coming December and just tutor him here in the comfort of our home. It looks like a traditional school set-up, not really progressive which is of course a lot more expensive, of course. That, hubby and I need to prepare if we want our child to get a kind of education that is worth all the trouble.

7 YEARS

Seven years ago, today, I said 'yes' to my first boyfriend.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PURPLE CAT

Purple Cat's birthday is on April 25. But I am posting this already as she may be gone to Baguio by then...

I was lining up outside our department Dean's Office for my enrollment. Cathyne, a transferee from St Louis University, approached me like a cat asking for some milk. "Anne, can you help me get into the school organ?" I was then the editor of our college magazine. I didn't know she knew I was the editor. Back in college, I made myself as invisible as I could get. I just simply hated to be seen or be acknowledged. It was quite a surprise on my part that a fair, tall, beautiful and smart chinita from the famous Baguio would know of my existence! She was way too interesting and everybody wanted to be her friend. I was a quiet, shy, anti-social student who would never strike a conversation nor look anybody in the eye.

She got into our school paper in no time. By the time she became the sports editor, we were inseparable. Up to this day, it is a wonder to me how we got to be friends. As far as I could remember, the main reason why I wanted to stick with her was because she was always ready to lend me P50 pesos whenever I ran out of pamasahe. Eventually I just found myself wanting more and more to hang out with her simply because we listened to the same radio station, memorizing almost every WRock song. Most weekends, I stayed in their house, we would stay up till the wee hours talking, watching TV, playing with her radio transciever or popularly know that time as walkie-talkie. And on schooldays, everynight, we burnt telephone lines talking nonstop about our favorite tv programs, movies, and sometimes slandering about classmates and schoolmates that we hated. We were so enseparable that we were suspected to be lesbians. *gosh*

We especially bonded through the trips we made together. She went to visit my family in Iloilo and stayed there for a few days. It was for the most part special because she was able to meet my family and see the place I spent some part of my childhood. Cathyne is a sucker for anything sentimental, particularly places of childhood. She shared with me hartwarming memories of her flores de mayo, how she, like any other kid, would steal flowers from neighbors's gardens.
Every once in a while she would fall into depression, lock herself in her room for days and would not talk to anybody. I, as a privileged friend, would go to her house and knock in her room. She would show me the things she threw on the wall, books and magazines torn apart, the evidences of her unspoken angst and pains. She had plenty of those, and so did I. Looking back now, I guess that's where we met, in the secret spaces inside us somewhere, where we felt alone and misunderstood. My sister and I were living on our own, our parents in Iloilo. Periodically I would leave school for a few days and go see my parents. Each time I had to go, Cathyne would have a hard time seeing me off. We would just sit around and not talk much. I knew so much about her silence, and she knew mine.

Ten years after college, we are now both married, she with a beautiful daughter and me, with an equally cute son! She has put on some ample amount of weight (friends ta cat no?ti medyo kind gid ko sa akon words.nyehehehe) and is constantly trying to stick on her diet, and well, yes, constantly failing. I remember her dieting no-end just to make her painfully thin crush notice her, to no avail. She almost considered her weight back then a curse. (ok, im exaggerating)
What I appreciate most about Cat is that she gives me freedom to be myself. I can be as careless with my words as I could get, she would take no offense. I could never recall a time when she got mad at me. I got mad at her once, the only time up till now, when she made me weight for 45 minutes at an agreed rendezvous. I didn't talk to her for days. Of course she was ecstatic when I finally smiled at her. Our friendship is built on mutual trust and respect. I guess that's one of the secrets to a lasting friendship.

I wanted a friend who is happy for the things I achieve in life, someone who is there to cheer me on and be proud of me. I wanted a friend who never asks questions but who never minds answering mine. I wanted a friend who knows the whys and the hows of my life, without me having to explain. I wanted a friend who understands life too well to allow me to live my own.
Cathyne is that kind of friend and I will forever cherish and appreciate her for the 'purple cat' that she is.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KURING! Praying for your happiness, your dreams, the desires of your heart that not everybody knows and really understands. Like a cat you defy death, manytimes, that come in different faces. Discouragement, threat, failure, fear, loss, a lot more. Look at you, standing proud and tall, claws ready for a brawl, yet never losing grace and elegance. Purr on!!

Love,
Anne

HAPPY BIRTHDAY VIVIAN!!

Vivian and I have been friends for almost 20 years now. We were classmates in first year high school. Being both really shy made us the best of friends. We would hand letters to each other almost everyday, sharing our innocent dreams and childish woes about life that was almost in miserable poverty. We promised each other we would pursue our dreams together, no matter what, to help our parents and siblings. After high school we applied for a scholarship in the same university and made it through after five years. There was a time when she expressed interest in transferring school. I was very devastated. She would meet new friends, follow different set of dreams with new opportunities. I cried for some nights. I couldnt ask her straight if indeed she was leaving our present school. Maybe I was scared of her answer. But one time she mentioned it to me and said she's decided against it, thinking of the new adjustments, the uncertainties, and of course she knew I really wanted us to graduate from the same school.


She was my other half, if you can call it that way. We planned of one day living in a twin house, one next to the other. We grew our hair long, and if one wanted to have a haircut, the other one should have a haircut, too! We shared everything about us, both petty and otherwise. She is one great storyteller, telling me of her earliest memories using her poignant words that always don't fail to amaze me. Her search for peace, happiness, serenity contaminated my soul and I, too, wanted those things.


I could never recall a time when Vivian got mad at me. I guess I can never let her get angry with me, no matter what I will do. For her, everything that I am, everything that I say or do, is just right. I got mad at her a few times, and each time she was afraid of me. She put me on a pedestal, never wanting to see me cry or yes, angry. She thought I was the best person ever alive on earth, she almost considered me a saint. Every time I talked, she listened to me and cupped my every word. Up to this day, she still thinks I am the best. (sure ka vian? hehehe) Every once in a while I wonder how come? I always tell her I got my own darkness, my own mistakes, my own fears. But no, she always finds reasons for these. By herself, she is one amazingly strong woman, never complaining, always achieving. All she wants is to give and give not wanting to get anything in return, most of the time refusing help.


A few years after college she decided to seek opportunity abroad. The night before she left, she spent it with me at home. We rummaged through my boxes of old letters and keepsakes from her. Together we reread, recalled, and laughed and cried. I didn't want it to end. I didn't want to face the next morning and see her go and finally reach for her star. The next morning was one of my most painful mornings, writing about it right now makes me cry. I had to put up a brave face, I didn't want her to see my pain because it woudln't help her. I decided not to see her off at the airport. When she's gone it felt weird, I almost literally looked to see if my fingers were complete, or my ears, or my legs. I knew, anyway, that it was my heart missing a big piece.

On her second day at work in a new country, she called me crying from a phonebooth, wanting so much to come back home. She was finding it hard to bear the pain of loneliness, saying she would rather go home to a simple life but with me around. She called almost everyday for a few weeks. Later on the calls gradually were reduced to letters every once in a while. Yes, finally, she found her ground, not steady yet, but at least she finally found someone to hold on to. She has trayed quite a bit away from me, especially when she got married and had her first child. She would come home every once in a while, but as much as I wanted to reconnect, she just seemed a different person. There was a time when I burned some of her letters to me back in high school. I would cry almost every night, grieving over what I thought was a lost friendship.


But she came home. I no longer hoped for it, but she found me again. Maybe I wasn't really lost in her memory, after all. By the time she had her second child, she opened up to me the pains she kept all those years she stayed away. Yes, indeed, she set me aside, never wanting to upset me by her stories of profound sufferings. When I saw her cry for the first time after many years, it pierced my heart thinking why have I been exculded from those pains. She is a part of me. I will grow old dependent on her existence, on her friendship, on her faith in me and what I could be.


Happy Birthday dear Vivian. Thank you for all that you are to me. Your love and friendship have seen me through, all these years through good times and bad. Our dreams may have taken different routes, but inside me, is still the high-school girl dreaming of a twin-house with her best friend. One day, we will grow old but I guess our hearts will always stay young enough to understand what the stars have to say.

Love, Anne

College campus writers

College graduation

Sleeping over at her house...urgh...the bangs.

Why do we always look ugly in our school days photos?

See how dark we are? We'll that's fresh from cheering competition.

Singles for Christ dedication day

...and fellowship day

Geez, the hats...

Us, today.

NOTE: my blog address is likewaterinwater.blogspot.com I got that from my favorite line in our most favorite novel, Torrents by Anne Marie Desmerest when we were in high school. Yes, I remain the sentimental fool, high school best friend of Vivian, the double sentimental fool.

LONG OVERDUE TRIP REPORT

Not in the mood for writing these days. Blame it on my period. Period.
Posting my favorite photos from my recent trip.

Center for Ecozoic Living and Learning, Cavite

I learned so much from this trip to one of Columban Fathers' missionary works. I am so amazed at how every instruction in life is actually there in the Bible, how to live and let live without putting the environment at risk.

Imagine this fire is a product of human waste! As in manure! How brilliant God is for creating everything and seeing to it that it is not to be wasted. Please check out the CELL's site. You will be glad you did.

To Baguio...and far from home...I took this rather gloomy photo (well, road to Baguio doesnt have any choice but to look gloomy anyway) as a reflection of what I felt inside, thinking home.

Choosing to have fun, anyway!

... and yet some more fun...if this horse stays still.

I underestimated Baguio. I kept saying this the first day I came. I didn't bring the right coat, I had to borrow socks from my colleague, I had to buy a pair of shoes that would keep me from getting frostbites.

YUMMY.

It's not until I went to Baguio that I discovered I know a bit of photography. Cheers to meh!

Over the clouds...

Over the contagious, anemic world...

I swim through the magic,

that I cannot touch

but could only understand...

WHERE MY HEART CALLS HOME

There was a phase in my single life when I declared myself a vagabond. It was in drifting to places that I discovered so many things about myself and what I really wanted. But there was something from wandering that I derived such an exotic pleasure from: it helped me hide myself as well, made me something like a chameleon. But those were the days. Though self-discovery is on-going, I have somehow found my own univerese. Something that I have decided to stay in, for good.

But tomorrow, I'm leaving :(

I am going on a one-week trip. And I have mixed emotions. I am excited to see Baguio for the first time, but I am weary of the feelings being away from Gabriel for the longest time, will bring me. So far, each time I am away on a trip, Gabriel gets sick. As soon as I booked my flights, Gabriel started having cough and colds. In fact the other day, Reinee and I brought him to his pedia.

Somehow, having Gabriel in my life pulls me away from wandering too many times. The joy he brings me and Reinee are way beyond what other, seemingly exciting things, can offer. Soon I will learn to let him go, soon he, too will wander to find his own life. But just for now, I spoil myself with worrying for him, with thinking that it's only me, his mother, who knows best. What mother will not miss this munchkin, anyway?

And of course, I will miss my husband, the one whose smile assures me I am the most beautiful. One time I asked him what's one thing he loves in me best. He said it's the mothergoose in me. Good, because it's my favorite part of being a wife. Look at that spoiled look on his face? Can I ever resist that?

So the queen of the house will be away. Will they eat well, and on time? Will they go to bed early, or would rather stay up and celebrate? What if Gabriel will get fever? Will Reinee know what to do? Will they secure all doors and windows at night? How about the plugs? The fridge shouldn't be left open ... I wish that I can just fold them up into my luggage. No, not the fridge and the pans, but Reinee and Gabriel. The two most important things in my life.

I thank God he made me a wife and a mother. It makes my life beautiful, bearable, enjoyable. Everyday I am surrounded with concerns, most of the time I get eaten up by all of it. But at the end of each day, I go back to where my heart calls home. My family.

4 YEARS

Fours years ago, today, I said 'I do'. Four years, and my life changed drastically, most especially when Gabriel came along. My 'I do' meant saying yes to many things, both scary and delightful. The first-times that almost always brought me out of my wits, like getting pregnant finally, delivering, major fight, baby getting sick. But, like I said, scary and delightful, the delightful part I always write about in this blog.

I praise and thank the Lord, today, for allowing me to experience life the way I never expected it to be. Because what is life if you know what will happen the next day? It is my cautious, insanely coward spirit that makes me dependent on his daily miracles, like I have never been. Because being single before, I thought that I could just get away with failure, and pain, for that matter, as long as I used my brain. Well, four years ago, not anymore.

There will be more years, that I ask of Him. I want to have another baby, a girl, and yet another boy. I want to see them grow up, one maybe a priest, or one a nun. Just maybe, because I certainly woudln't want to impose on them their dreams. I want Reinee and I to travel together, when our kids will be big enough to fend for themselves. I want us to get married again. These many additional years I am asking the Lord today, will I know be filled with yet again scary and delightful things. But the knowledge that I have someone beside me, holding my hand and loving me even if I can be a bitch every once in a while, is enough to keep getting excited for the next bend.


Below is an interesting poetry format I tried many years back. Wrote this poem on our First Wedding Anniversary.

FOREVER YOURS

The day we vowed to stay forever,

You said, "I offer you my love, my heart, my life."

I could not contain the joy and cried,

You're the one I've been waiting for.

You said, "I offer you my love, my heart, my life."

In return I gave you all of me.

You're the one I've been waiting for,

Now I have someone to share my dreams with.

In return I gave you all of me,

No matter what maybe ahead of us.

Now I have someone to share my dreams with,

Finding you and loving you, I became whole.

No matter what maybe ahead of us,

You told me as long as we have love we'll live.

Finding you and loving you, I became whole,

Life is still life, but more beautiful this time.

You told me as long as we have love we'll live,

I could not contain the joy and cried.

Life is still life, but more beautiful this time,

The day we vowed to stay forever.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves."-- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EVERYONE!

5 THINGS TAG

Maping tagged me and Cat can't wait for me to post, so here goes . . .



5 Things Found In My Bag


1. Prayer book and Holy Rosary

2. Cellphone

3. Planner

4. Wallet

5. Book



5 Things Found In My Wallet


1. Photos of loved ones

2. Cash

3. IDs

4. Cards

5. Receipts



5 Things Found In My Room

1. Laptop

2. My guitar and my husband's

3. TV and DVD

4. Books

5. Gabriel's toys and books



5 Things I’ve Always Wanted To Do

1. Learn piano

2. Tour the country (before touring the world)

3. Stop working and be a fulltime wife and mom

4. Start my own business

5. Mail Christmas cards to friends here and abroad, EVERY CHRISTMAS.



5 Things I’m Currently Into

1. Learning more guitar chords

2. Collecting Maeve Binchys again, after losing most of my collections to 'faithful' borrowers

3. Blog-hopping

4. Collecting things for my SFC group garage sale this Easter

5. Busy being a wife, mother and career woman



I tag everyone in my link list. hahaha. But oh well, I know this is a busy world. So it's up to whoever finds this fun! I do! Brings out the youth in me. Feels like I'm back in high school days, filling up slumbooks, sharing keepsakes and gossips.

SOMEONE CAME KNOCKING

Someone came knocking (SOMEONE CAME KNOCKING)

At my wee, small door; (AT MY WEEN SMOL DOOR)

Someone came knocking (SOMEONE CAME KNOCKING)

I’m sure-sure-sure; (IM SURE, SURE, SURE)

I listened, I opened, (I LISTENED, I OPENED)
I looked to left and right, (I LOOK TO DA LEF EN RAYT)
But nought there was a-stirring (BUT NO,DER WAS NO STIRRING)
In the still dark night; (IN DA STILL DOORK NAYT)
Only the busy beetle (ONLY DA BISI BITOL)
Tap-tapping in the wall, (TAP-TAPING ONA WOL)
Only from the forest (ONLY FROM DA FOREST)
The screech-owl’s call, (DA SCREECH OWL CALLS)
Only the cricket whistling (ONLY DA CRICKET, WHISLING)
While the dewdrops fall, (WHILE THE DEWDROPS FALL)
So I know not who came knocking (SO I KNOW NOT, WHO KNOCKING)
At all, at all, at all. (AT OL, AT OL, AT OL)

My two-year-old can now recite a poem! This was the poem doting tita, Nanay Dit-Dit teaches all his nieces and nephews. And soon as my Gabriel was a few months old, she was already teaching him the poem above. Gabriel can already sing a few songs, but boy oh boy, listening him recite a poem makes me swell with pride. Thanks to Nanay Dit-Dit and her total devotion to our family's young ones. How lucky will her future children be, learning poetry from her, singing, dancing, oration, you name it. Here are a few pics below so you will see why won't Gabriel learn many things from her ...

THINGS I HEARD LAST CHRISTMAS

GABRIEL: These are all my gifts ... they're mine. I'm going to open them now. As in right now.

NANAY: Who told you those are all yours? And who told you you're opening them?

ABE: But they're mine. I want to open them now!

NANAY: no! as in N-O!

ABE: please ...please...pleaaaaassseee??????????

NANAY: Don't give me that look, Gabriel. It's not gonna work.

NANAY: not all things you want in life you'll get. Life is not just about what you want...it's about what's good for you, what will make you grow, what will help you become a better person.

GABRIEL: see teddybear? I told you I wasn't going to get it.

NANAY: now lighten up and smile for the camera. I tell you it will be worth the wait.

NANAY: there.

wow! a weapon for the little warrior!

puzzle for bright mind!

a dolphin!!

ABE: these are all just too much! I am just speechless.

Nay, you're right. It's worth the wait.

NANAY: (at least that's how I interpreted that smile)

Belated Happy Christmas everyonE! I have been sick. Terrible cough, colds, sore throat. I didn't have voice the entire holiday. Nothing can be frustrating than opening up a present and liking it so much you want to shout with joy, but you can't. My voice escaped me on the night of Christmas Eve, and I was so frustrated I was crying out to God why. But then a few nights to New Year's Eve I got to thank somehow that I was too sick to talk. You see, sometimes I have the tendency to get really loud, talking forever, proving I'm right, never accepting defeat, never accepting I can be wrong, criticizing people, looking for flaws, seeing only what's ugly. While I was voiceless, I didn't have any choice but to sit around, quiet, and observe...in the process I saw myself in all the rest around me.

And I was humbled.

I am not a new person today, though. I am still the sinner, hypocritical, impatient, judgemental person that I am. But I thank God for keeping me quiet during the holidays. I got the chance to listen to the things that my human heart always fails to hear.

TIME...WHEN WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND?

Yes, that's about it. So many things to be done, so little time. So many blogs to write, so little time. So many gifts to buy and wrap, so little time. I hate hearing myself always talking like this. It's like I'm almost scared to see myself in the mirror, lest I'll see me talk back to me saying..yeah right..what other excuses have you got, lady?

It's past eleven in the evening. I'm seated here in the sala with my American friend, Hannah and the rest of the family singing the night away. So odd of me to blog away, while I've got visitors, right? But hey, I'm doing this on kind intervals. After this paragraph, my turn on the mike once again.

Yesterday, my second day -- take note, SECOND, day of my vacation leave, I woke up at 3am, vomiting. It went on till late that day, the world spinning and me vomiting no end. I was so frustrated and I refused to think of going to the hospital, to think that Hannah and family are coming for a few days of holiday. And I have work waiting for me.

I am tired, very spent. But I guess I still have enough spirit left for the Christmas celebrations. It is The Savior's birthday, how can I miss it for the world?

... a kiss on the wind
that doesn't feel
but touches my spirit
knowing it too well...

Yes, I only need to breathe in, breathe out and bask in the good days that don't come every day.

Excuse me...my turn now!

YOU WANT TO KNOW WHO'S MY HERO?

'AY LAB YU MAMA..' I wake up in the morning feeling rather tired and melancholic..and my son brightens me up with that greeting. All of a sudden, I am like bring it on sadness! bring it on discouragement! bring it on life!! His sweet little voice resonates in my ear for the rest of the day... and for the rest of my life.

My son is my hero, the wind beneath my wings. The moment I discovered I was finally pregnant, though I was so full of joy, I couldn't help asking, how will I become a mother? My own son taught me to become one.

I am still learning the ropes, I am still discovering. It can be tiring, sometimes scary, but most of the time motherhood is a mystical, blissfully magical experience.

'AY LAB YU MAMA..' My little hero simply says it all.


PS: He calls me NANAY. But interestingly, each time he says I love you, it has to be with a MAMA, not NANAY.

INCOGNITO

I used to maintain a secret blog site. This was where I wrote about my unending angst, profound sufferings, deepest longings. I decided to stop going to that secret hideaway as I thought it would only pull me back from facing my realities squarely.

But these days, I feel like going back there again. Sit in my virtual garden, smell the leaves that get rotten in the earth. After all, it is a fact that every once in a while, one can feel misunderstood, unappreciated, unnoticed. In my previous blog I said something about bringing some pains with me to my grave. I guess I'm wrong for saying that. Because I can't keep pain to myself. I write it down. And there, in my abandoned abode, strangers pass by, have tea with me...and listen.

I hide from the real world while I bask in the sunlight of my demented truths. Then again are they really demented? I guess some of it are sane enough, no matter how some people scowl at my veracity when I talk about them...and live them.

When I am hidden, when I am nonexistent, I have the freedom to think that way, to feel that way.

BELATED BIRTHDAY BLOG

It was October 4, I was supposed to be writing a birthday blog, thinking I owed it to myself for always being on the run. But it's the same day I had trouble with my internet connection. In fact, I was out till just last night. I didn't know I was supposed to get really mad over the phone with those technical representatives so they would do something about my ordeal. So, on the eighth, painfully agonizing night, I took courage to sound really angry and demanding over the phone with the technical support. IF YOU'RE NOT FIXING MY LINE TOMORROW, I'M SWITCHING TO PLDT! I guess they felt my lava going through their ear pieces that the following day, that is yesterday, my line was back.

But then again, what would have I written about the past week? Just painful, sad, awful news. And I don't really like talking about such things in my journal. I usually write about them, when they're over and I am already able to make sense of it all. But now, I am just too tired and too sad to even think about it. I keep learning though, I keep taking it all in, dissecting them, nibbling them. Because that is what this existence is supposed to be: love, get hurt, learn, give, receive, get hurt again, love again. In the end, it will all still be for my good.

I am 32 already. I have been good, I have been bad, I have been in between. Sometimes I am like so sure of myself, seemingly self-effacing. Sometimes I am like a little girl lost in the jungle. But everyday, I decide. To keep on with the road I chose to tread. Just like any traveler, I encounter beasts along the way, much as I encounter angels who make my journey more bearable. Yes, I am one, grateful and hopeful traveler. But as I share my life freely as I go along, there are pains that I am bringing with me to my grave.

(I thank maping for this very beautiful photo.I thought just now, that it can speak something for this post. Thank you maping!)

MONSARI

May 3, 2001. Reinee became my very first sweetheart. He stalked me for long, before coming out of the shadow and making himself visible to me. He had a box in which he kept things he kind of 'stole' from my things. My ballpen cap, a piece of paper torn from my planner, my photo. He courted me for over a year, while we were serving in Singles for Christ ministry.

May 3 for him has more significant than February 14, our wedding anniversary. For him, May 3 was the day I accepted his love and it was the beginning of our eternity together. So he made it an SOP that we celebrate every 3rd of the month. Last year, he gave me flowers and a love letter.

I love it that even though we’re two very different people, you chose me – knowing that it wouldn’t be simple, that being together was unlikely to be a walk in the park …

I love it that out of all the thousands of ways it could have turned out, my life turned to you …

And now, everything love has brought us – the good times and hard times, all the fun and struggle and change – this sweet complicated togetherness of ours … I love it … I love you.

Today, I didn't get any flower or card, as he is strictly confined to his duty as a policeman. Instead I just got a text message from him, proud that he's the one to greet first. I miss him. I miss the things that he loves doing to me: foot massage, dying my hair, pulling my armpit hair, doing grocery as our favorite past time. I miss the child that is in him, all the fun, crazy, 'sweet complicated togetherness'.

MY ANGEL SON

Gabriel: Strength of God. What mother will not feel blessed knowing that's the meaning of her son's name? I pray my Gabriel will live up to his name, be a blessing to others, and become whatever God wanted him to be. Here in this photo, he went with me across the street where we live, to buy vegies for laswa. He gamely carried that plastic bag which contained papaya, squash, okra etc. It was quite heavy, he was actually limping while walking. Gabriel is happy child. That alone tells me he's growing to be the angel that he is.

As it is Archangel Gabriel's feast today, I am sharing this article below sent to me by Kerygmafamily.com Thanks Bo! (Naks naman)

ANGELS OR SAINTS: WHICH IS BETTER?

Though their names are introduced with the title Saints, Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael are not human beings. Only human beings can become saints. They are archangels, meaning they are angels each entrusted by God with a special mission. Angels are generally 'messengers.' The word 'angelos' is the Greek word for 'messenger.'

Michael, whose name means 'Who is like God?,' leads the host of angels who chose to serve God. His opponent is Lucifer. We can read the battle between Michael and his angels versus Lucifer and his devils in the Book of Revelation. Michael's name reminds us that God is one and like no other.

Gabriel's name means 'Strength of God.' We remember his two visits in the New Testament: one to Zechariah and the other to Mary. True to his name, his first visit opened the dry womb of the barren woman, Elizabeth, who gave birth to John the Baptist in her old age. His second visit revealed the strength of God in making a virgin conceive His Only Begotten Son. We also recall that the strength of God made Zachariah unable to speak because of his unbelief.

Raphael, meaning 'God's medicine,' is the archangel who assisted Tobias in his journey. He likewise healed Tobit, Tobias' blind father, and gave Tobias a wife whose name was Sarah.

Tradition has it that there are other archangels, but only these three are mentioned in the Bible in relation to the special task given to them by God or their special roles in the history of salvation.

Once during a retreat I attended, our spiritual director mentioned that there are three sins of the fallen angels. The first is their rejection to serve God. The second is their refusal to worship the Second Person of the Trinity, Jesus Christ, in His incarnated form. The third is their envy of us, human beings, who are loved by God so much so that He gave us even His Son. We are not angels and archangels. But we are loved by God more than we know. He gave us His only Son who became one like us, NOT LIKE THE ANGELS, in all things but sin so that in becoming like us we may become like Him. What a priceless gift! We are destined to become like Jesus. We are not angels. We are saints. Which do you think is better? Fr. Bobby T.

REFLECTION QUESTION: Jesus chose to become a human being, not an angel.

Thank You, Jesus, for choosing to become one like me in all things, but sin. By Your grace, help me to become like You. I look forward to see You, to live with You, and worship You forever, together with all the angels and the saints. Amen.

St. Theodota, martyr, pray for us.

MY OCEAN OUT THERE

I just got home from a 'job-interview'. I have never experienced applying for a job. Right after I graduated from college, I was hired to work for Misyon. Almost ten years, and I'm still here, prospering more than I have imagined. For the past weeks, I've been so inclined with trying to work freelance for other magazines. Wider horizons, for expansion of my own network and of course, a more secure future. I started working part-time for a Libya-based magazine dedicated Filipino Overseas Contract Workers. And I'm doing pretty good, I guess, working an hour or two each night at home. (The adjustments that go with it, disrupted routine, Gabriel wanting more and more of my attention when I'm at home, is a different story).

I applied for another freelance job, yet again. I'd like to see myself one day, as just a stay-at-home-working mom. That way I can stay empowered as a career woman, and at the same time, have more time with Reinee and Gabriel, and will even be able to get pregnant again with the second, third and even fourth child.

A week after I emailed my resume, today, I got a text message from the publisher of Negros Island Living, a magazine I applied to online.

PUBLISHER: Hi. Gud am. This is ___________ publisher of Negros Island Living Magazine. Can u meet me later at Shakes Rob. 4pm. Bring ur resume and work sample.

I had mixed emotions. Excitement, hesitation, anxiety. Do I really want this? Will I be able to do this? Will they like me? Will I get hired? Please God be with me. I never thought applying for a job could be this nerve-wracking.

While waiting for the publisher, hubby sent me a text message:

HUBBY: Lab, Bring home the bacon. *smile*

ME: I'm still waiting for the bacon. Nerbyosnesfully,kurugating already. (he came up with those words himself one time, when he was also preparing for job interview)

HUBBY: Gimme an A! gimme an N! gimme an N! gimme an E! Go an-an go an-an go! Go an-an go an-an go! Go anne...Go anne...go! Bomalaka wattamama bom-bom-bom! Bomalaka ugachaka sisbomba!

Yes, my husband is also my cheering squad. It helped ease out my nervousness. Smiling and a lot calmer, I kept waiting .... I sat there for over an hour. I lost my patience, gained it back the next minute, lost it again. I was close to walking out and forgetting all about that freelance job I wanted. I kept reading and rereading my husband's cheering text. Finally, the publisher appeared. After a mini-second pleasantries, I showed him my resume and the magazines I've been laying out.

PUBLISHER: you did all these?

ME: from cover to cover.

PUBLISHER: do you write, too?

ME: if needed, yes.

PUBLISHER: what if i hire you to work for me full time?

ME: sorry, i can't. i applied because your ad said you were looking for a freelance artist.

PUBLISHER: how much do they pay you?

ME: P_________.00

PUBLISHER: *looked quite surprised*

ME: it's not even for the salary that i'm staying. it's my loyalty.

The rest of the supposed interview were reading-between-the-line phrases. In short, I was over qualified. I hope he'll see the possibilities of me working for his magazine part-time.

Hubby was disappointed. He thought it was a waste of time for me, waiting there for over an hour for nothing. But I am actually smiling and feeling really alright, more encouraged than discouraged. Now I know I can do the job. Now I know I can keep doing better. Now I know I'm good enough to swim in a wider, deeper ocean out there.

POSSESSION

this was how my young heart wrote when in love...

---

You came
when I wasn't able
to cup the song before it ended,
while my heart was dying
to the memories it once had known.
I retreated
into the dark womb of dependence
upon your promises yet to be made.

But I don't need your heart
that is torn between two eternities.
I don't need your love
that is still grieving over a song
so long forgotten.
I need your heart
and its poetry of devotion,
desire and possession.
I need you and your liberty
from the pain of the past
and the singing that didn't last.

Beyond the limits of my fleeting years
I need you to dream

some new dreams with me

and measure how far
heaven really could go.
And when I have all of your heart
to fly away with mine,
how much more I will need you-
you will never know.

DIGITAL SCAPBOOKING. yes? no?

I still go for the traditional scrapbooking. Wouldn't trade memories with this stuff I just tried out a few minutes ago. Yes, it's easy to do, just a few clicks away and viola!! But how about the feel, the texture, even the smell?

What do you say?

BELATED BIRTHDAY LETTER TO GABRIEL

My Dear Gabriel,

This letter is rather late. It’s just that lately, my life as a career mom has been in great hullabaloo. I’m not going to talk about it though, as this is supposed to be my birthday letter to you.

As I am writing now, you’re already asleep right beside me, breathing quite noisily and coughing in short intervals. We went to see your pedia this afternoon and thankfully it’s just a simple allergic cough, though she said I must be forewarned that allergies can later lead to asthma. Please God, that will not happen. I didn’t have a decent sleep last night, as you stayed most of the night coughing and at one point, vomiting in the bed, soiling everything. The anticipation of the following day’s endless washing of the beddings was nothing compared to the great pain I felt as I watched you all red from too much coughing. I was so desperate for you to be well, I couldn’t stand watching you struggle like that. Yes it’s just a simple cough, but for a mother, anything that makes her child’s life difficult is a humongous tribulation. Exaggerated words, but they certainly give justice to my feelings.

A good friend recently shared with me while she was reading an article about the power of the sign of the cross. I remembered it while you were coughing nonstop and crying at the same time out of sleepiness and exhaustion. I prayed, asked God for good night’s rest for you, and healing, and made the sign of the cross on your forehead three times, and on your back three times. The coughing stopped in an instant and you slept till the next morning. You see, we are so blessed we have our faith. It is because of this faith, that I am determined to make things right with you, to choose what is good, what is righteous, to choose love.

This is not an easy world we are living in. In fact, everyday, you see suffering everywhere. Before you came, I only cringed at these sufferings. But now that you’re here I take these sufferings as God’s constant reminder of how much I am blessed, how much I have to give. I have you, and it’s more than enough blessing to share with others. You will grow in love, encouragement, discipline. We will not only be mother and son. We will be friends. Even best of friends. You will tell me what you think and feel, I will listen. And vice versa. This world needs faith, hope, charity. And we will be among its heralds. You, me, your Tatay. Our little family.

You have officially entered the ‘terrific terrible two’ stage. Terrific, because it’s in this stage that you get to learn, and show what you learn, really fast. Terrible because this is also the ‘me, my, mine stage’. You’re beginning to see how much you can do thus giving you ‘courage’ to get what you want. You’ve been really really terrific-terrible-two lately. Of course, when you get overboard, you get a good spanking. Sometimes I don’t feel guilty, many times I do. But that is the kind of pain I am willing to undergo every once in a while, just to make sure you grow up knowing that what goes around, comes around.

‘Lab yu Nay!’ You seem to be fond of telling me that lately. That’s more than enough assurance for me, that the language of my love will always be greater than what ‘terrific terrible two’ brings along. You will get spanked. But you will know why.

Happy birthday my dear Abe! With you, God has blessed me in so many wonderful, amazing ways. Your face, your voice, the touch of you, all the intricate detail of my Gabriel … here, in my heart. All the birthdays of your life, forever.

Love,

Nanay

I have to give credit to my friend, Hannah for the term 'terrific terrible two'. Really brilliant.

(here is a link to gabriel's recent birthday celebration: http://annereinee.multiply.com/photos/album/32/ABE_TURNED_TWO)

PINK POWER

I was recently one of five Rockin' Girl Blogger awardees, courtesy of Mama Mapz. Now it's time for me to pay it back and/or forward. Here are my five topmost on the list, in no particular order.

BEBANG: She’s my sister blogmate. If I won’t include her in the awarding, I’ll be in big trouble. Juk juk juk. She’s my number one fan when it comes to writing, but she too can actually write. She writes heartwarming, witty, relevant blogs. My recent favorite is her 11 days. Creative, funny, again, witty. What makes her entries even more worth reading is the enduring faith that makes up the mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend that she is.

MIRA: After much coaxing, she finally gave in and started her own blog. We met at SFC in 1995 and we instantly became friends. Her profound thoughts were like a fountain I wanted to contain in a teacup I shared with her every once in a while. It’s her birthday on September 8, so I better continue this simple tribute on a birthday blog for her.

KURING: Mira’s younger sister. She used to collect every piece of poetry I wrote. She’s of the very first few who get to read my work first, before I share it with others. It’s like an exclusive joy for her I wouldn’t want to take away. From her entries, you can tell how she becomes an exciting mixture of the traditional and contemporary, as she faces more challenges in a wider, more complex world of NYC.

MAMA_ALY: I saw her blog site when I was blog hopping one day. A refreshing page of a career woman who chose to stay at home and become a fulltime wife and mother. She shares her faith in simple, reflective, and insightful words, any reader can’t help but be blessed. I always walk away feeling pounds lighter after every blog visit.

MAPING: Why wouldn’t I give her this award? It’s because of her blogs that I, too, wanted to have my own. I instantly was able to relate reading her entries. A working, blogging mother and wife. She writes heartwarming blogs, light, mostly funny and cute especially when it’s about her munchkins.

There you have it ladies! The long overdue pink badges! Strut it around and be proud you’re pink!

QUEEN WITHOUT A CROWN

I wrote this article for Philippine Daily Inquirer back in 1999, Youngblood section.

I have three sisters, all of them beauty queens. (Even my brother has taken part in a number of pageants.) Our living room is full of their trophies, their bedrooms are covered with sashes. Our photo albums are filled with pictures showing them in makeup and proudly displaying their crowns and bouquets. There are piles of newspapers with their pictures.

Friends and relatives always praise my parents for having such beautiful and talented children. And then they turn their gaze on me and ask, "How about you? When will you complete the number?"

I give them a shrug for an answer. I just can't imagine myself in the spotlight, forcing a smile to hide my nervousness and trying to answer questions from the judges. If what happened to Miriam Quiambao happened to me, I don't think I would be able to stand up, manage a smile and brush off such an embarrassing fall. Even just reciting in class made me feel faint.

Most of the time, I serve as bona (a gay term for "alalay" in our province) to my sisters. I bring their costumes. I fan them backstage. I look after their belongings. Sometimes I also get into disputes with supporters of other candidates who mumble unflattering comments about my sisters (which is inevitable, since there are losers when there are winners).

I love the thrill and excitement of watching my sisters walk the ramp, flash their brilliant smiles and answer tricky questions and then waiting for the final moment when the host announces who will be crowned as queen. If it is one of my sisters, I swell with pride and I have a hard time keeping myself from running in front and shouting to the crowd, "That's my sister! that's my sister!"

In most of the photos from various competitions my sisters joined, I can be seen in the background, smiling from ear to ear. One time when I was showing a new friend of my photo with a sister in a fashion show, she casually said, "Oh, so you're also fond of pursuing movie stars for a photograph!"

But I'm used to all that. I'm contended to be my sisters' No. 1 fan.

I'm not saying I am very different from them. I don't wear thick glasses and long skirts. In fact, I could be more daring and stylish than them at times. But while my sisters busy themselves moisturizing their faces and applying lotion to their bodies at night, my face is usually buried in a book. Maybe that's where we are slightly different

Still there came a time when I asked myself when I would make a name for myself to make my parents proud. Of course, they are proud of all of us, but I think parents love nothing more than seeing their children in the spotlight and being admired and cheered.

This thought almost drove me to give beauty pageants a try. I tried wearing a swimsuit in front of a mirror, put on some makeup and faked a smile. I looked all right, but I felt stupid. No, I just didn't have the nerve. As I was talking to the girl in the mirror, I realized I wasn't feeling fine at all. I was insecure, self-protective, indecisive. I was living in a box, shutting myself away from the world. I loathed failure. I feared rejection. And this realization embarrassed me and became a challenge.

I didn't find the courage to take a leap overnight. For a long time, I nursed the desire to have a "name" for myself but I couldn't really change myself into the way people wanted me to be. I wanted to remain what I was.

Since I loved books and I loved to write, I gave campus journalism my best shot. I wanted to get out of the box and I did something about it. I faced my fears. I struggled through sweat and tears. I suffered failures and became dejected. I got involved in fights. I was humiliated. But I kept trying, knowing these were the things I had to take if I wanted to be a winner.

Eventually I became the editor of our school organ. I represented our school in different assemblies and competitions in different places. I ran for various positions and won some. That was the way I got into the "spotlight."

I was able to experience how it felt to read my name on bulletin boards and the papers, or accept congratulations and shake hands with people I never imagined I would meet or walk in the corridors saying thank you to well-wishers on campus. and it felt great!

I realized I could do and achieve things on my own without creating an image of myself for people. After all, it's my family who will be proud of me whenever I win in my own version of pageants.

I graduated from college with a journalism award given by the Philippine Information Agency and that has been the highlight of my young life. I was proud to see my parents go up the stage and share the spotlight with me, and pin on me the medal I worked so hard to earn. I didn't feel the weight of a crown on my head or the rustle of a sash on my gown as I faced the audience and heard the loud cheers of my friends and fellow campus writers. I just felt the weight of the medal on my neck and I became the proudest daughter in the world.

Now I don't think I need to join beauty pageants. I have already completed the number.

WRITER'S BLOCK

I used to write no end.
I used to write like writing
was the only way I could live.
I wrote saccharine, sentimental pieces
where some people scoffed at.
And sometimes I bullied my way
into poetry like a dog getting on
a porcupine… and people adored me.

Out of my well-worn heart
and complex imagination,
I declared myself master of my pen,
oblivious to the fact
that poetry sometimes does fade.

The wine tasted bland.
Raindrops, annoying.
Night sky, frightful.

There was no more joy
in my writing,
only sad patterns for sorrow.
And so I grieved at the sunset
Like it would never rise again.

'PAPEN'

Gabriel is finally free from pacifier!!!! Or should it be the other way around? The pacifier is finally free of Gabriel!!! I didn’t plan for it. I wasn’t hoping to wean him even. They said he’ll just let go of it eventually. I wouldn’t deny feeling quite embarrassed about it, especially that he’s getting to be more and more talkative. Can you imagine him blabbering with pacifier in between his teeth? Urgh. What’s even more frustrating was he wouldn’t let go of his worn-out, faded, bruised, tattered ‘papen’ as he calls it. Even I already bought a new one, same model of course, he just looked at it as if it were some kind of an alien.

Until one unexpected night happened, his papen deflated! And, of course, he didn’t want that new one. I stayed up the whole night, till the wee hours trying to console him, entertain him, veer his mind away from it all. I went to work the following day feeling all used-up myself, like his recently retired papen. I was expecting for the ‘withdrawal syndrome’ to last for at least a couple of weeks but thank goodness it only lasted for two days, two nights. He became consolable with a gentle scratch on his back till he dozes off. The thing is (or maybe on his part, the bargain is) I just have to do the scratching each time he stirs in his pillow, lest he rouses and eventually just wake up and deprive me of rest till the morning comes. It has already happened, mind you.

Oh, the woes of being a mother. But above everything else, papen weaning, diaper rush, allergies, fevers, tantrums… I am one, happy mother. With Gabriel already able to give me hugs and I love yous, I get enough consolation. Reinee and I find strength just by watching him sleep.

DOMINGO's SONG

Hear the song in my heart… and sing it to me, when my memory fails…

I can’t remember exactly where I got these lines, but I especially dedicated this to my best friend back in high school. But recently these lines have assumed a different meaning to me.

Dom and I have been friends since college, him being one of my cohorts in our school organ. I must say he was one of my avid supporters. He was zealously following me to the point of joining an organization I was in, even if it meant affecting his studies later on. He too, became a campus activist. But activism didn’t obstinately get into my system, thanks to my father, a true-blue radical himself, who gave me sane advices. That is another story, by the way.

At first Dom and I had a mentor-student kind of relationship. He was hungry for knowledge; I was passionate in sharing what I knew. Until I graduated from college and heard nothing from him. One day, I got a short, precarious missive from him. It didn’t have his signature, but I knew it was his. I knew his handwriting by heart. He was asking for prayers, saying his life was in danger. That shook me to the core. The last time I saw him, he was in the streets holding up a megaphone, red scarf around his head, under the heat of the sun. He was a different person already. I didn’t expect he would remember to let me know where his principles had led him, though I was constantly half-hoping he would.

Several years passed. Every thought of him became a prayer. Needless to say I was guilt-ridden. I prayed and prayed and prayed. And believed. He’s safe. He’s finished school. His life was normal. These prayers were heard.

We’ve been seeing each other in Manila recently. He’s been such a darling for picking me up at the airport and letting me stay in his house, treating me to places I never thought I would go. I treasure the long talks that lasted till the wee hours. He’s more or less the same person, but different in a way that only I, and maybe a few of his friends, would know and understand.

Yes, the mentor-student relationship has gone past its stage. Dom became my friend when he told me all about the brightness and darkness of his life, all about its sweet and pungent odor. All about its seasons, its colors, its songs. And I sang along with him, not fully understanding what his heart was saying, but at least knowing the sadness it felt, the fears that went along with it.

From outside, he is a jolly person. Very positive, talented, promising. Some people and so-called friends can only scowl at his propensities. But I can only cry seeing through his ready smile. Because there lies a friend, so misunderstood, yet so endearingly beautiful.

Dom, I may not be around for you always, but thank you for trusting in me. I am eternally amazed by how you take life and its challenges. You are such a brave young man, forever believing in great possibilities. You will be heard. You will be well. You will be triumphant. In the end, what will matter is how you lived your life. And I am blessed I have been part of it. Thank you for letting me hear the song of your heart.

GABRIEL's VOCABULARY - Part II

ENGLISH

Sweet dreams: dif-dif
I love you very much: bo-mash
Papa Jesus: Papa Titus
Pray: pfrey
Table: tibon
Egg: geg
Monster: munter
Swimming pool: mimingpon
Lotion: owthon
Milk: miyek
Chicken: kiken
Truck: chwak
Rainbow: winbow
Barney: marney
Blues clues: booth-cooth
Airplane: epen
Birds: borts
Drawing: wiwing
Turtle: titon
Giraffe: gerf
Banana: manana
Train: twen
Nose: nowth
Angel: engen
Teddy bear: tidiber
Apple: apon
Sun: than
Star: thtar
Butterfly: fly-fly
Cookies: cookith

Computer: pututer

Button: batan

ILONGGO

Ligo: gego
Banyo: manyo
Tanga: nana
Itlog: gog
Abre: abve
Gin-ot: in-ot
Hilot: ilot
Hulam ko: nam ko
Saging: gaging
Biskwit: kwit-kwit
Likod: nikod
Katol: katon
Basa: batha
Tugnaw: nugnaw
Hilanat: nanat
Kalam: nam
Hadlok: dlok
Sulat: thulat

The ones above are just the words that he still cannot say right, and that I find really cute to listen to. These days, every day, he surprises me with words, phrases, and even sentences he already can say right.

During our last visit to his pedia, I was quite surprised, and really happy with his ‘performance’. The pedia’s secretary, who’s very fond of him, got him a book and without much ado, Abe started naming everything he saw in each page. Not contented, after he finished the book, he looked around and named the things he could see around the clinic. Star, sun, kite, teddy bear, rat, clock, clouds, balls, tree.. I could see that the rest of the mothers in the clinic were impressed. Later, one mother asked me his age and when I said he’s going two this coming August, she said he’s advanced for his age. What can you expect? I was swelling with pride!

Thank God I took up Child Psychology, even if I really never got to practice it professionally. I believe that God made me take the course, just for Gabriel and his future siblings, God-willing.

Nevertheless, if there is one great teacher on how to be a good parent, it’s God himself. His parenting style could never ever go wrong. That’s one thing I like Gabriel to remember always.

38.3

Temperature rising..rising...
My own spirit plumetting...plumetting...
down to the deepest recesses
of the unknown...what I fear the most ...

But it will end,
the nightlong vigil,
the holding on to his tiny hand,
the quivering of my own flesh,
the sweat from the humid room,
all warm from his fever...

It will end,
his agony...all my own...

Tomorrow, he will be up again,
celebrate his childhood --
forbidden just yet.












Oh, to be a mother. Gabriel is sick. Fever doesn't go down from 38. I am paranoid. I worry like hell. I pray, trust God. But just can't help it. I know that sounds very contradictory but wacthing my son weak and helpless takes the better of me -- all the time. What is helping me cope are my sisters, my own mother, a few close friends, my husband, and the knowledge that God loves Gabriel more than I do.


PS: One of the articles we published in Misyon was an article from mother whose daughter had a dengue fever. She wrote a really nicely written poem about it and I was thinking of that poem while I wrote this one above. Have to find it and share it here, really clear, vivid description of a mother's agony over her sick child.

WITH ARMS WIDE OPEN

It's Fathers' Day on Sunday! I still am not over with office deadlines, so I decided to prepare ahead of time and make out a present for Reinee. I'm pretty sure he'll be surprised and happy to be watching this simple video -- with his verrrry favorite song as the background music. I don't know what else to say. BRAINFREEEEEZZZEEEE!!!! I guess I'd better come up with a fathers' day blog on Sunday. Not sure yet. All I know, right now, at this very moment, this very second, my back aches like hell. But thanks to windows moviemaker. Bankpains aside, I love what I've come up with.

Love felt. Love proven. Love defined. Happy Fathers' Day pinalangga ko nga bana. Thank you for giving me Gabriel.

OVER THE CLOUDS

No, I didn't fly anywhere lately. It's just that some of my friends here, my only avid fans, I think, have been clamouring (see tag board) for my entries. And I am just so damn busy with work, that I don't have any choice but to repost this poem below. Wrote it a few years back, after my first plane ride. So there you have it guys, just to entertain you a bit, in the meantime.


Today I fly
and try to touch the heavens,
getting intimate with thoughts
and secrets hidden in the clouds.

Beyond the ideology
of my non-conformist heart,
it is compelled to follow
where my mind wants
to break free...

Here, over the clouds,
over the present pains,
over the contagious, anemic world,
I swim through the magic
that I cannot touch,
but could only understand.

ANABELLE DIGNO BADILLA

This is really interesting. Thanks to my sis Bebang for sharing. hehehe. I was smiling the whole time I was reading, so amused at reading myself. It's like watching myself in front of a mirror, naked, studying each delicate detail of how I really look. Some things here don't apply to me though, at least the way I look at myself. I always believe that every person is a mystery, encompassed with myths and truths only the Greater One understands.


You entered: Anabelle Digno Badilla

There are 20 letters in your name.
Those 20 letters total to 79
There are 9 vowels and 11 consonants in your name.

What your first name means:
Latin Female Beautiful. Graceful.

Your number is: 7

The characteristics of #7 are: Analysis, understanding, knowledge, awareness, studious, meditating.

The expression or destiny for #7:
Thought, analysis, introspection, and seclusiveness are all characteristics of the expression number 7. The hallmark of the number 7 is a good mind, and especially good at searching out and finding the truth. You are so very capable of analyzing, judging and discriminating, that very little ever escapes your observation and deep understanding. You are the type of person that can really get involved in a search for wisdom or hidden truths, often becoming an authority on whatever it is your are focusing on. This can easily be of a technical or scientific nature, or it may be religious or occult, it matters very little, you pursue knowledge with the same sort of vigor. You can make a very fine teacher, or because of a natural inclination toward the spiritual, you may become deeply emerged in religious affairs or even psychic explorations. You tend to operate on a rather different wavelength, and many of your friends may not really know you very well. The positive aspects of the 7 expression are that you can be a true perfectionist in a very positive sense of the word. You are very logical, and usually employ a quite rational approach to most things you do. You can be so rational at times that you almost seem to lack emotion, and when you are faced with an emotional situation, you may have a bit of a problem coping with it. You have excellent capabilities to study and learn really deep and difficult subjects, and to search for hidden fundamentals. At full maturity you are likely to be a very peaceful and poised individual.

If there is an over supply of the number 7 in your makeup, the negative aspects of the number may be apparent. The chief negative of 7 relates to the limited degree of trust that you may have in people. A tendency to be highly introverted can make you a bit on the self-centered side, certainly very much self-contained . Because of this, you are not very adaptable, and you may tend to be overly critical and intolerant. You really like to work alone, at your own pace and in your own way. You neither show or understand emotions very well.

Your Soul Urge number is: 11

A Soul Urge number of 11 means:
With the 11 Soul Urge, much of your thinking and interests relate to the abstract, the spiritual, and utopian dreams. You are motivated toward idealistic concepts, and the sharing of your ideas and concepts with humanity. This number is not one that is giving in a material or a practical sense, but rather one who desires to help mankind with a more abstract commodity such as religion, spiritualism, occult studies, or even psychic abilities.

If you possess the positive 11 Soul Urge traits, you have a dream of the perfect world; you are highly idealistic and inspirational. Your inner strength and devotion to your beliefs are extremely strong. You have a very good mind that is especially well equipped to handle the higher, more abstract forms of thought.

If there is an excess of 11 energy in your makeup, you may possess some the negative 11 traits. There is a tendency for the 11 to produce considerable amounts of nervous tension which is bought on by a very high level of awareness. You may be too sensitive and overly emotional. In some cases, these sensitivities and emotions are quite repressed, and this tends to add even more to the sense of nervousness in the makeup.

The strong 11 is not a very practical person because of the extreme idealism; often, there is a degree of self-deception present. There is usually a rather fixed idea of right and wrong held by those showing strong 11 traits, and with this very often is a resulting attitude of inflexibility.

Your Inner Dream number is: 5

An Inner Dream number of 5 means:
You dream of being totally free and unrestrained by responsibility. You see yourself conversing and mingling with the natives in many nations, living for adventure and life experiences. You imagine what you might accomplished.

THE ROAD I'VE TAKEN

Nothing like a box of Cadburry. Well, after a long hiatus, if I may call it, I am now actually finding it hard to decide whether I would write something about that box of chocolate I would die for, or about that new pair of skirt and shirt I got from my sister's friend's rummage sale who's migrating, or about the way I am seated in this photo, slouched, painfully thin from all the hardwork this present life requires, or that contented smile born out of my husband's regular weekly break from the camp...pppphhhh!!! Such a long sentence that is. You see, there is so much goings-on in my life, a lot to blog about. But I only got two hands!! Sometimes I just wish I'm a giant octopus.

Not that I am resenting, though. God has been good to me and in spite of daily concerns, left and right, he still gives me reasons to be thankful for everyday. I can talk about these reasons for hours, but on top of these all is a happy family life. As long as no one among my loved ones gets sick, I am more or less a happy person, eager to give more.

My concerns lately, were mostly about the concerns of those I love.

1. A friend currently based in Atlanta, who recently gave birth via vacuum extractor, has been in deep darkness with her baby's life in danger. Right now, we're still praying for Baby Mikko to survive, grow up well and healthy. That is one miracle Gabriel and I have been praying for, very fervently.

2. Another friend, still not married, has been biting her nails over the possibility that she could be pregnant. Human beings are inherently hardheaded. That's all I can say.

3. My own brother, our only brother, trying out a new life for his family in Manila. With 5 little kids in tow, and a pregnant wife, I can understand why he said, one time, driving like mad along one of the highways there, shouted and cried out to God all what his heart couldn't say. That same night, when he told me about it, I cried and cried and cried until there were no more tears to cry, but I was still crying.

These are just three among the many. And these sufferings are mine, too. I take it upon myself, to suffer like they do. How can I help it? I've been on my knees many times over and though I may never understand God why he allows his people to be in such pain, at least I know at the end of the road, he is there waiting.

FLOWERS FROM GABRIEL

He went out with Manang Nene and when he spotted this flower, he asked it to be picked, and, as if by reflex, came inside to find me. Nene asked, "Kay sin-o mo na ihatag?" "Nanay nang, Nanay nang (nang means 'lang')," he replied.

He's not fully aware of Mothers' Day and those sort of things yet, but the fact that he already knows what are flowers for, is enough joy for me. Enough love received, to be freely given back.

Reinee has not been around in a number of special occasions already, and though I never resent him for this, I am still most of the time struggling not to be sad. Gabriel is compensating, in more ways than one. Making up for his Tatay's absence, making up for the times he becomes a menace rather than an angel.

My son has taught a lot of lessons already that I always knew I would eventually learn, but didn't know it would be this rewarding. Difficult, yes. Tiring, yes. Exhausting, tripple yes. But the joy that motherhood brings, it's incredible. Far beyond compare. A cliche, but can't think of other words for it.

Each time I marvel at how amusing, entertaining, adorable Gabriel is, I can't help wondering, was I that lovable to Mamang when I was that little? Did I give her that same, simple joy and delights? Did she ever shower me with kisses and gag me with her hugs? I hope I will know. I hope I will have the courage to ask her. I hope both of us will bear the awkwardness of such a question.

And I hope to raise Gabriel, not having to feel awkward each time he says "I love you" to anyone, not having to anticipate rejection when he wants to give someone a hug, not having to wonder is he loved?

I thank God he made me a mother. It made me understand and accept my own mother, appreciate her, love her more. And show it.

MUSING

... life so dependent on me ...

SIX YEARS

Six years of loving him. And being loved. Six years as sweethearts. And yet, it's only like yesterday...

We met at Singles for Christ. I was one of the active leaders and he was a non-Catholic atheist-curious-about-Christianity, extremely rebellious out-of-school band enthusiast. You name it. He was in total darkness. He had the weight of the world on his back. And when he first met me, laughing and smiling from ear to ear, 'the world on his back fell off'. That's how he described it. And, like they say, the rest is history.

May 3. For him, it's more important than February 14, our wedding day. Right from the start, he made it clear that he wanted every 3rd of the month celebrated...until we grow old and gray.

Every time I think about how we ended up together, I get tears in my eyes. God used me in an encredible way, to usher him back to where his life really should be going. My life illuminated the darkness of his own. The hopes and dreams I owned became his. The songs of my soul became his melody. Until the smile and laughter came back to his own being. Until I myself, started to really, genuinely trust that I could be happy. It was pure providence that we met each other. It wasn't fate, nor luck. It was God's plan. And I am grateful I listened to what He wanted for me.

Reinee is a strong man, by himself. He is even 'suplado'. He is the ruler in his own turf, field, territory. But when it's about the two of us, his defenses crush down to the ground. I am his queen and 'everything about me is big deal'. (At least that's what he told me in one of this love letters *wink*)

But we're not perfect, and so is our relationship. We got wounds, we got issues of the past to take care of, we got struggles of everyday to confront and learn from.

And we have gabriel, we have our love to help us endure everything.

RAIN IN SUMMER

It's Fr Niall O'Brien's 3rd Death Anniversary today. He was our editor, and the greatest mentor I ever had :( Strangely enough, though the weather is really 'summerly' hot today, the sky is so full of nimbus clouds. If you want to know who Fr Niall O'Brien is, just search through the internet. It will be worth your time.


















(our magazine cover right after he died)


It's summer and it's raining.
Well yes, the heavens have to cry
because you have gone away
"to the land where I can no longer hold your hand".

You breathed your last in one of those intricate
buildings of Italy, your favorite,
next to Philippines.
I have a photo of you here,
smiling cheerfully
behind the Leaning Tower of Pisa,
during a respite from the chemotherapy.

Italy, ah most beautiful, you have told me...
how often you talked about that place
with such passion and life,
like the life you saw in Leonardo's Last Supper,
like the passion you felt
from the strains of polka and mazurka.

You once gave me a postcard from Trevi Fountain
saying "Keep this, one day you'll go there."
I keep it until now, and though I may never
have the chance to go there one day,
in my mind I have thrown a coin
and wished to walk once again
along the secret cloisters of your heart.

But well, you see, in the sweet sadness
of this summer rain, I understand
that there is no more strolling
along the ancient ruins of your pure heart
and your most beautiful mind.

There is only remembering
of the undiscovered treasures
of the life you lived in an ugly world
which you endeavored to make so beautiful.

If only you could have lived long enough
to witness my own story
unfold into a new beginning,
something which you have promised me
over and over to come along.

I basked in the wonder of your zest,
in your wisdom you so happily shared,
in the hope that overflowed in you.
But then again your road had to end,
your own searching had to be concluded.
Farewell now, my dear friend and mentor,
thank you for showing me life
the way you have always seen it.
Thank you for helping me understand
the reason behind rain in summer.

PS: right after i posted this poem, it rained.

WHAT Eleanor Roosevelt HAD TO SAY

Hungarian sussage with rice and bottomless iced tea. What made the dinner more interesting for me was knowing the fact that it was one of the business owners' garrage and they turned it into a really cozy, artistic bar!

It was indeed an enriching evening with a few new friends. Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “Great minds talk about ideas, average minds talk about events, and small minds talk about people.” We were able to talk about people (a common friend who lives a miserable life because his mother runs it), events (that shooting rampage in Virginia Univ) and ideas. That, I can talk about for hours right now, because that's where we dwelled. We talked about Filipinos still molding clay jars, and not being able to move on and try out making porcelains -- real porcelains, for that matter. We talked about status quo and how it sucks the whole system. We talked about economy, how local producers opt to export products because it's not being supported in the country. We talked about many others things along this line, until finally we talked about pooling our resources and starting a business that would cater to tourists, backpackers, children, adults, parents. It has to be organic. It has to be cheap. It has to be interesting and unique.

AND IT CAN BE DONE! Now, this is what I call GREAT MINDS. To hell with voyeurism. To hell with greedy, mostly foreign capitalists. To hell with pro-gun societies. The world needs a few good men. And brilliant ones, mind you. :P

10 THINGS I DARED IN MY LIFE

RODE A BIKE - it was a dare enough just to ride it. the bike barely even moved. else i would have fainted :P

PERFORMED - our SFC music ministry was in need of a keyboardist. no one was available. no one would say yes. i stepped out of the line, learned the keyboard for less than a week. the next time our group performed, everyone was looking for me. yeah, that was only once in a lifetime.

CROSSED GUIMARAS VIA FISHING BOAT - it was fantastic! we crossed the sea from pulupandan to guimaras, for two hours, in an open sea! we were so oblivious to the danger. i was playing the whole time. mind you, we had to go back again that same day and it was only when we arrived back to pulupandan that we learned that the sea wasn't really so friendly when we crossed.

RODE A HORSE - same thing. the horse didn't even move a bit. and yes, i call that a dare *blush*.

CLIMBED A TREE - the last time i remember climbing a tree, i was in gade four and one of my classmates had to push me up. i ended up staying up on that tree till dusk, because i was so scared to climb back down.

GET DRUNK, REALLY DRUNK - no, that's not me on top of that pile in this photo. that's my youngest sister. im the one getting crushed to the ground.we were all laughing soo hard for like, hours. we couldn't remember anymore what made us laugh, in the first place. drunk. that's what we all were. it was my last birthday party as a single anne.

JOINED CHEERDANCING COMPETITION - and won. yes! and to think that it was an international competition! unbelievable! it was all for God, i was dancing and kicking around for him, during our Singles for Christ international conference back in 2001.

FELL IN LOVE - a dare enough. reinee courted me for over a year. i was wishing him to just disappear, vanish in thin air. but he didn't. he loved me enough to refuse to let me go. who wouldn't dare?

GOT MARRIED - i knew marriage will change my life forever. i wanted to do something drastic, to start and make sense of everything. indeed, taking the plunge cleared my perspective. then again it's not the be-all and end-all. i know that it's a work-in-progress, and that's how marriage is going to be.

BECAME A MOM - i am glad i dared!

HAIR TALK

Gabriel is growing fast. And so is his hair. Reinee and I intended to grow it long but great grandma objects violently. Nothing we can do. Lola gets mad only once.

But it's Reinee who is so fascinated with long hairs. Needless to say, I have to maintain my own hair. But just a couple of weeks back, I asked my cousin to trim it. She was snipping away for several minutes, and lo and behold, more than half of my hair was already scattered on the floor -- lifeless, massacered, gone forever. It took me two years to grow it back again. (Two years ago, Reinee and I had a serious fight and I cut my hair really really short as my sign of rebellion).

So, what's with long hair?

PS: I can't write anything these days. Writer's block I guess. I'll try to be up on my feet soon...

WEARING HAPPINESS ON MY SLEEVES

Been up to my eyeballs since I came back to work from a short Holy Week break. Want to write something about it but I'm running against time. I hope for now, the photos will speak for themselves...

FRAGMENTED

Shattered inside me
Like pieces of broken glass
My mixed emotions

MY COOL

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