a line from "The King and I" comes to mind.
it's both thrilling and head-cracking when someone comes over to see you in a heartbeat, and leaves you in the next. all because i craved for a cup of hot chocolate.
there is no escape.
i'm hooked.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
loving you is like food to my soul.
i've been receiving messages lately from people around me, telling me i've lost touch for the past few days. emotions have run around the spectrum from near-rage to tearful compassion because of my failure to answer calls or urgent email. honestly, i don't really know what to say.
i want to say sorry, but it's more of feeling sorry for myself. the self-pity is agonizing and is close to becoming psychosomatic. i want to get away from it all and tell myself i don't deserve to be shoved into a world of responsibilities i'm too young for. i want to turn off my 3 phones and drive out of town incognito. i wanted a grand party for my birthday but nobody really thought 30 was a big deal. i'm almost about to eat some worms.
yet seeing my mom tonight, bringing my dad to the bathroom to help him go about his business, threw all the pathetic feelings away. here was a woman who is probably the least acknowledged for everything she has done for us. last year she lost the chance to continue a private consultancy when she took the role of nurse for daddy who was recovering from his heart bypass. mother's day and her birthday were spent at the hospital, with daddy not even noticing each occasion because he was too weak to remember anything. this was heartbreaking, since my dad had always doted on my mom prior to the operation. nowadays, she is only comforted by the hope that somewhere beneath the tantrums and the helplessness is the man who is madly in love with her, the daddy she fell in love with.
she is sick herself, not having had a decent night's sleep on an uncomfortable watcher's cot for the past week. yet she always sets it all aside for him, feeding him bland soup that the hospital requires him to eat, talking to the doctors and nurses, going to daddy's office to get his salary and work assignments, while giving us detailed orders daily on how to run the house in her absence. i remember a night many years ago when she was watching TV in their bedroom with us and i asked her,
"ma, sino nagluluto ng ulam ngayon?"
"ako," she replied.
"eh pano nangyari yon, andito ka nanonood ng TV tapos nagluluto ka pa rin?", i wondered aloud as a bewildered 6 year old.
"eh di parang si superman," she said, winking at my dad.
i believed her then, because our dinners always tasted better when she was around, even if i didn't see her cut vegetables or put raw meat in the pot to cook.
i still believe in her now. she's the quiet strength that has kept this family together. she inspires daddy to get well and is truly there to ease any pain he feels in a way no son or daughter could ever give. and she demonstrates with every unappreciated act of service to her family, what "unconditional love" really is.
while we pray for dad's recovery, i also whisper a special prayer for mom, that she may always remember that she is loved by all of us. if i could only be half the woman she is, i would be fulfilled.
i want to say sorry, but it's more of feeling sorry for myself. the self-pity is agonizing and is close to becoming psychosomatic. i want to get away from it all and tell myself i don't deserve to be shoved into a world of responsibilities i'm too young for. i want to turn off my 3 phones and drive out of town incognito. i wanted a grand party for my birthday but nobody really thought 30 was a big deal. i'm almost about to eat some worms.
yet seeing my mom tonight, bringing my dad to the bathroom to help him go about his business, threw all the pathetic feelings away. here was a woman who is probably the least acknowledged for everything she has done for us. last year she lost the chance to continue a private consultancy when she took the role of nurse for daddy who was recovering from his heart bypass. mother's day and her birthday were spent at the hospital, with daddy not even noticing each occasion because he was too weak to remember anything. this was heartbreaking, since my dad had always doted on my mom prior to the operation. nowadays, she is only comforted by the hope that somewhere beneath the tantrums and the helplessness is the man who is madly in love with her, the daddy she fell in love with.
she is sick herself, not having had a decent night's sleep on an uncomfortable watcher's cot for the past week. yet she always sets it all aside for him, feeding him bland soup that the hospital requires him to eat, talking to the doctors and nurses, going to daddy's office to get his salary and work assignments, while giving us detailed orders daily on how to run the house in her absence. i remember a night many years ago when she was watching TV in their bedroom with us and i asked her,
"ma, sino nagluluto ng ulam ngayon?"
"ako," she replied.
"eh pano nangyari yon, andito ka nanonood ng TV tapos nagluluto ka pa rin?", i wondered aloud as a bewildered 6 year old.
"eh di parang si superman," she said, winking at my dad.
i believed her then, because our dinners always tasted better when she was around, even if i didn't see her cut vegetables or put raw meat in the pot to cook.
i still believe in her now. she's the quiet strength that has kept this family together. she inspires daddy to get well and is truly there to ease any pain he feels in a way no son or daughter could ever give. and she demonstrates with every unappreciated act of service to her family, what "unconditional love" really is.
while we pray for dad's recovery, i also whisper a special prayer for mom, that she may always remember that she is loved by all of us. if i could only be half the woman she is, i would be fulfilled.
Saturday, August 08, 2009
i can feel your halo.
As I write this, I'm having mixed feelings about a lot of things.
I'm juggling between sleeping and making this entry, staying home and going back to the hospital to be with Mom and Dad, laughing and crying, and feeling old and responsible while feeling as helpless as a baby.
We call on everyone again to join us in prayer for Dad's health. He hadn't been eating much since early this week, and we thought it was just hyperacidity and the generally somber mood of the week (with Tita Cory and the gloomy weather). He had a blood test last Thursday, and results were out yesterday showing that his hemoglobin levels were low.
He has already undergone blood transfusion and was scheduled for a routinary endoscopy just to check for ulcers which may have caused his lack of appetite and upset stomach. What the doctors saw was a mass that only allowed 1/8 of his stomach's space for food to go in. A CT scan was also requested today, results of which will be ready tomorrow.
As of now, we really are at a loss as to how to approach this new crisis in Dad's life. We are praying for guidance and enlightenment, and perhaps another miracle.
We know how powerful your prayers have been in the past, so now I ask each and every one of you to join us again in lifting this to our Lord. We've conquered this monster before, and we will win once more!!!
I'm juggling between sleeping and making this entry, staying home and going back to the hospital to be with Mom and Dad, laughing and crying, and feeling old and responsible while feeling as helpless as a baby.
We call on everyone again to join us in prayer for Dad's health. He hadn't been eating much since early this week, and we thought it was just hyperacidity and the generally somber mood of the week (with Tita Cory and the gloomy weather). He had a blood test last Thursday, and results were out yesterday showing that his hemoglobin levels were low.
He has already undergone blood transfusion and was scheduled for a routinary endoscopy just to check for ulcers which may have caused his lack of appetite and upset stomach. What the doctors saw was a mass that only allowed 1/8 of his stomach's space for food to go in. A CT scan was also requested today, results of which will be ready tomorrow.
As of now, we really are at a loss as to how to approach this new crisis in Dad's life. We are praying for guidance and enlightenment, and perhaps another miracle.
We know how powerful your prayers have been in the past, so now I ask each and every one of you to join us again in lifting this to our Lord. We've conquered this monster before, and we will win once more!!!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
I could go crazy on a night like tonight...
Maybe it was the large coffee I had from Dunkin' Donuts, or the exhilaration of finally getting a new pc monitor and installing it tonight. (And the dread of the coming due date of my ballooning credit card balance.)
It could also be the fact that I'm commemorating so many special days for the past and in the coming days.
Or, it's because the end of the month is near and reaching my quota is almost a reality but could still slip from my hands.
Whatever it is, I am again at a period of reckoning. It is not so much as deciding -- where to go, what to do or whom to cherish -- as it is admitting to myself and to everyone that choices have already been made.
Soon, it seems only appropriate for me to lose the right to stay in my youth. Twentysomethings are understandably fickle, dependent, zealous and pretty much the same as they were in their teens. Awkwardly, people of this age are also groomed to take on new responsibilities, and to act like adults. I'd like to think of it as "act" being the operative word, as in portraying a role distinct from the person one truly is.
It's overwhelming to realise that as I reach 30, it is expected of me not to just act, but, more importantly, to be an adult. I've attempted to mature as quickly as necessarily possible, albeit clumsily. Mistakes which could have been forgivable a few years back are now downright embarrassing to commit, and I feel that at some point I should have something of substance to show for myself.
Someone thought about that too right here. Has "thirtysomething" turned into "thirtynothing"? Tell me if you agree with it or not :)
The thing is, I could go on and on with a litany of things I have not yet accomplished, but it will not speak of who I have become. Some days I rouse from slumber, complaining in my head about how I got here or why I'm still here, but most days I wake up just feeling grateful to be here (and to be here with you), because for the longest time I had been wandering aimlessly along a path I did not carve myself, one that was thought to come naturally for a person growing up. Somewhere along this path, I discovered self-reinvention, found a ticket to inspiration, and took a roadtrip to a twisted, blindsided highway. I can't say I haven't looked back since, but I sure could declare I'm better off here than where I used to be. How it is for me to be more sure of myself while I am at my most unfamiliar, is, indeed, a mystery.
Ok, the caffeine is wearing off. Time to reacquaint myself with my bed lest it refuse me as an intruder... ;P
It could also be the fact that I'm commemorating so many special days for the past and in the coming days.
Or, it's because the end of the month is near and reaching my quota is almost a reality but could still slip from my hands.
Whatever it is, I am again at a period of reckoning. It is not so much as deciding -- where to go, what to do or whom to cherish -- as it is admitting to myself and to everyone that choices have already been made.
Soon, it seems only appropriate for me to lose the right to stay in my youth. Twentysomethings are understandably fickle, dependent, zealous and pretty much the same as they were in their teens. Awkwardly, people of this age are also groomed to take on new responsibilities, and to act like adults. I'd like to think of it as "act" being the operative word, as in portraying a role distinct from the person one truly is.
It's overwhelming to realise that as I reach 30, it is expected of me not to just act, but, more importantly, to be an adult. I've attempted to mature as quickly as necessarily possible, albeit clumsily. Mistakes which could have been forgivable a few years back are now downright embarrassing to commit, and I feel that at some point I should have something of substance to show for myself.
Someone thought about that too right here. Has "thirtysomething" turned into "thirtynothing"? Tell me if you agree with it or not :)
The thing is, I could go on and on with a litany of things I have not yet accomplished, but it will not speak of who I have become. Some days I rouse from slumber, complaining in my head about how I got here or why I'm still here, but most days I wake up just feeling grateful to be here (and to be here with you), because for the longest time I had been wandering aimlessly along a path I did not carve myself, one that was thought to come naturally for a person growing up. Somewhere along this path, I discovered self-reinvention, found a ticket to inspiration, and took a roadtrip to a twisted, blindsided highway. I can't say I haven't looked back since, but I sure could declare I'm better off here than where I used to be. How it is for me to be more sure of myself while I am at my most unfamiliar, is, indeed, a mystery.
Ok, the caffeine is wearing off. Time to reacquaint myself with my bed lest it refuse me as an intruder... ;P
Monday, July 27, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
funny how time changes how we see.
I remember during one of Hangad's rehearsals a few years ago, when we were asked to contemplate about how Good Friday was for the disciples at the time of Jesus' death. For us modern-day Christians, the observance of Holy Week is a commemoration of the unconditional love of the Father that smoothly culminates with its triumph over sin and death at Easter. The sorrow of the Passion is always met with the glory of the Resurrection.
Yet for the disciples, this anticipation of triumph was alien to them. All they knew was that Jesus was dead, and that his promise of a kingdom of salvation died with Him on the cross. They were confused, consumed by grief, frightened at the prospect of being persecuted in the same manner as their Teacher. They felt abandoned, left in darkness, and had nowhere to turn. Still, they remained together in this moment of darkness, albeit in fear, but together.
This evening of Good Friday and for the remainder of Black Saturday, we are invited to recognise this Holy Darkness, and to be grateful to the faithful apostles who stayed with each other in deep mourning, and in hope for an answer to the seemingly inevitable end of their calling. It is a reminder to us that things happen for a reason, and that reason is not always immediately tangible. It is an exercise in patience, fortitude, and pure faith.
Darkness could not have been any more real to me than it was during Holy Week last year. My family and I were in the hospital, praying for enlightenment that we make the best decision on how to go about my father's heart problem. I was experiencing personal difficulties of my own, asking for a sign if my decision to break free from a relationship was the right one. Never in my life had I felt so lost, so pained, so alone, so blinded by darkness.
Yet my family stayed together. I kept myself together. We held on for about a month more before Dad was finally discharged from the hospital, surviving a quintuple bypass operation. I kept firm with my decision, and braved through it with inspiration from my father, my family and all of you who prayed with me. And like the days after the Resurrection, I had my share of miracles, "apparitions", unexpected obstacles and minor persecutions. Still, I remained with unwavering faith that the answer will come.
Looking back now a year later, I realise that everything happened all at the same time for me to finally put to rest an old self that had been in pain for so long. There were a lot of things I held on to then that I thought I couldn't live without, but it came to a point that I had to muster enough courage to leave it all to God, to be patient, and to believe. It's downright amazing how time really changes how we see.
I will be forever grateful for the darkness of that period in my life. For without it, my Easter would not be as resplendent as it is today.
Yet for the disciples, this anticipation of triumph was alien to them. All they knew was that Jesus was dead, and that his promise of a kingdom of salvation died with Him on the cross. They were confused, consumed by grief, frightened at the prospect of being persecuted in the same manner as their Teacher. They felt abandoned, left in darkness, and had nowhere to turn. Still, they remained together in this moment of darkness, albeit in fear, but together.
This evening of Good Friday and for the remainder of Black Saturday, we are invited to recognise this Holy Darkness, and to be grateful to the faithful apostles who stayed with each other in deep mourning, and in hope for an answer to the seemingly inevitable end of their calling. It is a reminder to us that things happen for a reason, and that reason is not always immediately tangible. It is an exercise in patience, fortitude, and pure faith.
Darkness could not have been any more real to me than it was during Holy Week last year. My family and I were in the hospital, praying for enlightenment that we make the best decision on how to go about my father's heart problem. I was experiencing personal difficulties of my own, asking for a sign if my decision to break free from a relationship was the right one. Never in my life had I felt so lost, so pained, so alone, so blinded by darkness.
Yet my family stayed together. I kept myself together. We held on for about a month more before Dad was finally discharged from the hospital, surviving a quintuple bypass operation. I kept firm with my decision, and braved through it with inspiration from my father, my family and all of you who prayed with me. And like the days after the Resurrection, I had my share of miracles, "apparitions", unexpected obstacles and minor persecutions. Still, I remained with unwavering faith that the answer will come.
Looking back now a year later, I realise that everything happened all at the same time for me to finally put to rest an old self that had been in pain for so long. There were a lot of things I held on to then that I thought I couldn't live without, but it came to a point that I had to muster enough courage to leave it all to God, to be patient, and to believe. It's downright amazing how time really changes how we see.
I will be forever grateful for the darkness of that period in my life. For without it, my Easter would not be as resplendent as it is today.
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