mind lessons ... a year after nanay's death

there are many
many things that
would make your mind tick.
i choose to choose thinking
thinking than be bored.
i believed that many
many many people died
because of boredom,
because of sadness,
physically and some just died
even as they are still somehow alive.
but not too much thinking i say...
not from too much thinking.
those with migraine bouts should know
should know what i mean.
it may stress a soul too much.
too much one may choose boredom
choose boredom in the end---
that i know (i should!) but...
is not an easy sacrifice.

january 18th. fight goes on

 

There were times we get tired and moments our own light goes out but we know we have to keep fighting as we see our Nanay Fely does, still. You know what rekindles that hope, that light? It is rekindled by a spark from all of you... our dear friends, relatives, workmates and 

other kind souls from the past. 

As of today, we are given another day (as we consider each day a miracle). Nanay is re-learning how to eat and sip, she still doesn't talk but she moves her hands and nods her head as she recognizes people, she even tries to ask how we are... She's undergoing dialysis every other day and still on close monitoring. We keep hoping she'd get a bit better for surgery and/or go home... 

Each episode causes us (I and my siblings) to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us. DAGHANG SALAMAT GAYUD for all your help, your prayers, your kind words...

We really appreciate them. ***mahigpit na yakap po*** Thank you. God bless you. 

#LabanLang #LordHealOurNanay #Gratitude

boogeyman out

here's something you dont know about her. and it pains me 'coz i have this feeling that you got to know this but you just dont want to for many reasons i can think of. this will be just first of the many. i have promised myself id write everything i remember here so one day youd be able to read and one day you'd know and hope that one day won't be the day the she's gone...

YOU WERE NOT  EXPECTED BUT YOU WERE LOVED BY HER...EVEN NOW. i know so. you were conceived during those times that her relationship with him is on the rocks. you may look up to him as someone good, well-respected, and unfairly-judged by some. the truth? he didnt work and provided for the family coz he believed having his family name, track record and relative riches is enough so he just let her work her ass out coz her pride couldnt take begging from his family all the time. but yes, he was there.

he was there as a symbol. he decides. he was the man of the house. i was even proud having him- so tall, so big, so loud. he forced her to borrow a very huge sum of money from the bank where she works and invest it on something that didnt work so he decided to move us out of the place and bring us to unfamiliar grounds and try to live there. you were in her belly then. when her belly grew big, i began to wonder why i didnt see her throw-up then on second thought i said to myself, what will she throw up when we barely have anything to eat? but she fought for you. she ate what little food i and marion have left to nourish you inside. she touches you in her belly every night. i know coz i see her (most of the time she thought i was asleep) looking at the stars and tears flowing in her cheeks. i always look at her and check on her and marion if they are still breathing. i kept on praying for them to be awake the next day. it was my biggest fear then, i was 5 and i am haunted by the thought that id be left alone...

and you were born, i was crying. i was worried. marion was trying to calm herself by playing. i was at the stairs wondering if she's ever gonna live after giving birth to you. she was weak and pale. i was wondering if you would look okay if you have fought for your life inside her in those months of hunger and pain. then someone told me he heard you cry. i thanked god you were alive. but that someone also told me she isnt moving. my heart beat so fast, what will i do? i was just 5. how can i ever take care of you and marion if she dies? i decided to make some plans. a. go to the nuns and ask for help, have them adopt us. b. beg the landlady (an old maid) to adopt us while i clean her house and help her in sewing or laundry in return. c. find ways to contact grandpa and ask them to think of whats best for us. funny, that time, i didnt think of him (our father). perhaps i knew then that he never really was there even as he was. back then i surrendered to the thought that id grow without a father and that it is okay.

we sold all we had just to buy milk for you and food for us. she did laundry for others again as she was waiting for her wounds to heal. she believes god has plans and that we would all be okay if she finds a good job. she was promised by a certain company that she would be hired as soon as shes fit for work...days after he arrived, he took you away. she was crying, she didnt want to. she was able to start working but on weekends we would look for you. we would ride a bus, the three of us and look for you. after several attempts we saw you and we took you back. you were a beautiful baby. i love seeing you in her arms. marion and i would play with you. you had a strange giggle.you were our baby...

after a few months, i was at school, he came again. he took you away from us (again). that time, there was no crying from her, there were angry voices. and then we did the usual round (of looking for you). you were walking by then, and when we found you, you were thin and your legs were full of insect bites. i was crying. i told her we wont go unless we have you with us. the lady wouldn't give you unless we give her something. she gave everything she had in her bag to the lady...and so we had you again.

when i was in grade 2, our aunt came for a vacation, she said shed borrow you. i said yes and i made her promise to bring you back soonest but i didnt expect that she wouldnt tell her about it and just take you away. i was reprimanded by her. i was crying and i was so guilty. for many months i hated myself for allowing them to take you away from us again...days and months have passed you didnt return. we stopped our usual route in looking for you. i asked her why can't we take you back. she said a bus ride would not be enough anymore...then i realized you were taken so far far away.

living without you isnt easy. your dress are still in my box then and all those fancy jewelries i make you wear when we play-pretend you are a princess. i was so used to giving you bath, feeding you, combing your hair and playing with you all the time. we missed you so. sometimes we miss you so much we just cry. all three of us. day in day out, month in month out year in year out i still see her crying and looking at the stars but this time you are not in her womb anymore, you were somewhere far... those nights i look at her, i also pray to god that you are taken care of, that you are happy, that you are not crying...all i can do is hope, pray and wish that one day youd be back in her arms ...back in our arms again...

life...is what we make it II

There were many times that my father was ‘absentee’ because of his work,
and then he was ‘deceased’ and it somehow didn’t matter to me anymore.
I knew that as the eldest, I have to be my mother’s assistant,
even a partner in taking care of my siblings and make sure our house is a home-
be it an extension of someone’s garage, a shanty by the ‘riles’ or
a room of a house of a relative. There were happy times, yes.
And we are truly a family, my mother and I made sure of that.
Despite the hardships, we excelled in school.
We were popular because we didn’t allow others to look down on us
and we proved that we didn’t have to be rich to be so.

As a family, we were a strange band of characters-- in the 80’s,
my mother and the three of us, in the 90’s ‘minus’ my sister
who died of leukaemia and another sister who was away from us for 10 years
but then it’s also ‘plus’ a new sister and two brothers
from my mother’s second marriage. We went through life sharing a lot- ideas,
school supplies, socks, toothpaste (even bath towels at times),
coveting one another's desserts, borrowing money, reading each other’s diaries,
inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending,
and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together…
and that common thread is my mother or the love for her.

Family (of origin) shaped my life in one way or another- who I am now
(and I have my own family), how I act, and how I keep my values,
and especially how I formed my identity. I have to form my own identity
besides the pre-wired identity that my family built because I realized that
I cannot depend on that (there were times I do not know what I want to be,
but I am quite sure of what I don’t want to be so I take it from there).

I remember some seven years ago, a girl called and told me that her dying father
is my father too, and that I have to give my forgiveness so that he would die in peace.
Fast forward, no one knows yet if this was true but I had another family added on my list.
Here, I was exposed to stories of how ‘this father’ was and how I came to observe
that we share a lot of commonalities and this made me wish I have met them
(he and his family) before he died. My choices and priorities now
are based on what I wanted my new family to be – less complicated, intact and
ever-present for each other. This wouldn’t be difficult (I hope)
because we’re a family of three.

But then I asked myself once:
would I be this strong-willed, patient, and passionate and
beautifully disturbed enough to try to help the least-favoured if we haven’t gone
through all those life’s struggles and complexities?
That is a question I wouldn’t risk answering by application now.

she is all there is...

how else will you know that she loves you
how else will you know that she cares
when all she is to most is a worker
for wages, for ages, for cages
to loose...

how else will you know that she wants you
how else will you know what she bears
when all she is to most is a mother
for daughter, for sons, for some
to choose...

how else will you know that she needs you
how else will you know what she dares
when all she is to most is a friend
who advises, who cries, who helps
to bemuse...

how else will she know that you love her
how else will she know that you care
when to most all she is is a worker
for wages, for ages, for cages
to loose...

how else will she know that you want her
how else will she share what she bears
when to most all she is is a mother
for her sons and her daughter
to choose...

how else will she know that you need her
how else will you know how she dares
when to most all she is is a friend
who is there to advise and to help
to bemuse...

to bemuse to help to advise her friends
on their worries and their hurts
to dare look into the problem
as if it is that easy...
perhaps it really is

to choose her daughter or sons over some
over some love she chose to forget
she is a mother most of all
as if it is that easy...
perhaps it really is

to loose herself from the cages by wages
or love or lover whatever ages bring
she cared, she loved, she worked
as if it is that easy...
perhaps it really is

oh! to her perhaps all there is was easy
or perhaps she was left with no choice
but to go on, go on loving living
a year more this november
a year more on and on.

how else will she know she's thought of
thought of and prayed for everyday but
for all her angels and friends who
loves her to now tell her and
wish her a very merry day!

remembering the roots (literally)

it's been days since i came to manila again...and as expected, separation anxiety sat in. it's hard to be far away from the places and the people you love especially when you are about to get used to it again.

together with being far again is the struggle- emotional, physical, intellectual, spiritual...financial. some light and easy, some too heavy to bear.

but on days like those, i just keep in mind the roots...the roots of the plants. observe them...look at those plants that you always water, their roots are thin and bundled, you can easily remove the plant with one hand from the soil...

meanwhile, those plants that you don't water much have roots that are bigger, somewhat unbundled and grow deeper into the soil...maybe that's what we need, that's what i need: a once in a while semi-drought.

and god gave me food :)

god is good...he never really lets me go hungry, god may have thought that it's better for me to keep my hips this way :)

friday - sir santi gave me a big box of bisquits.
saturday - nanay gave us banana chips and tuna in can
sunday - the excess for the taxi fare in bringing nanay to the airport was enough for veggies
monday - mam maricar and mam ligaya gave me bananas
tuesday - dr. ang gave me goldilocks mamon
wednesday - the excess for tita's electric bill was enough for my jamppong and skyflakes
thursday - i'm feeling lucky, tomorrow someone's gonna hand me yogurt icecream :)

hmmmm... thank you angels :)