man

This real life situation is so cute, it needs to be shared and appreciated.
For reasons which will remain unspecified in this blog, Jun found himself visiting the nearby convenience store one evening. He found his destination without any difficulty. But now, Jun had a task which definitely would not be the envy of any other man alive. He scoped the labels on the many rows....regular, thin, ultrathin, longs, maxi, overnight, with wings, no wings. It was overwhelming and baffling. How could there be so many variations of a product that serves only one purpose? But all is not lost. Man evolves and adapts. Armed with his trusty lifeline (i.e., his cellphone) he made the call that would make him survive through this harrowing rite of passage in fatherhood.
He has lived to tell this tale. I am so proud of my hubby.

grace

Having just talked about endings, my thoughts could not help but drift to my mom.
In what I would like to think of as her last conscious moments, when we called her name, she would momentarily open her eyes and seemed to nod her head. But always, always she would put up her right hand and feebly gesture what I made out to be the sign of the cross. Three days earlier to this, she could still speak.

My mom is a creature of habit. Even while at the hospital, in the mornings, I would give her a sponge bath, then apply her baby powder using her polvera (older than me) followed by a change and her dress up. I would massage her limbs and then she gets breakfast...not that she ever really broke her fast. All she could manage to eat was about 4 or 5 pieces of strawberry and perhaps 3 to 4 spoons of taho or oatmeal. It took a lot of cajoling to have her eat more. It was our ritual. I would help her brush her teeth which she insisted on doing, quivering hands and all. And then she was all set.
"Pakiabot nga ang prayers ko." My mom suffered through it all for the most part. But she never forgot. She never forgot to be thankful and to humbly accept that God is the greatest power. She had a set of prayers but one was her favorite. She was able to utter them all by herself.

Three days earlier to this, she could still speak. But then, she was not really quite there to start up a sensible conversation. She was coming and going. And she did not ask for her prayers. I knew it was not good. I started to read her prayers to her. My eyes fill with tears as I remember how she would mouth the words as I recited, words that rang true from her heart, from her being ...even in her state then. Though it is a prayer for the sick, I felt an overwhelming sense of surrender and grace as I read.

Heavenly Father,
I call on you right now in a special way. It is through your power that I was created.
Every breath I take, every morning I wake, every morning of every hour, I live under Your power.
Father, I ask you now to touch me with that same power.
For if you create me from nothing, you can certainly recreate me.
Fill me with the healing power of your spirit.
Cast out anything that should not be in me. Mend what is broken.
Root out any unproductive cells. Open broken arteries or veins and rebuild damaged areas.
Remove all inflammation and cleanse any infection.
Relax compressed lungs to normalize breathing and prevent coughing.
Let the warmth of your healing love pass through my body to make new any unhealthy areas so that my body will function you created it to function.
And Father, restore me to full health in my mind and body so that I may serve You the rest of my life.
I ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.

I say this prayer now. I feel connected with her. In the end, she showed the grace of acceptance and for this, she is enjoying a new beginning somewhere.

the end

It is October 21, the winter season has not been heralded and yet I saw snow falling. Brrrrr....it was sure an unexpected gust of cold that left me feeling frozen. I thrust my un-gloved hands into my coat pockets and bowed my head as I walked to protect my face from the harsh chill. I bit and chafed my lips. To escape, I made a stop at the card shop. The christmas stock are out now. Just seeing the festive mix of red, white, green, silver, gold and blue with touches of tinsel made me feel all warm and tingly inside. The winter wonderland display complete with the inviting fireplace and the cozy grandfather chair beside it was more than enough to beguile me from the misery of the cold outside. There are lovely pocket calendars and I love the fact that they are dated all the way to the end of 2010! I could not resist but pick up one. I leafed quickly to June 30, 2009. A Tuesday. The end of my fellowship. Just then, I caught sight of a greeting card nearby. On the front it read:

Everything will become okay,
it usually is in the end.
If it is not okay,
it is not yet the end.

I almost laughed. I am not quite at the end yet...but I will be okay.

school's back (breaking)

My 10 year old, Maxine, is a wisp of a thing. She is tall but lanky and lean. She weighs about 55 lbs. On the few occasions that I was able to pick her up from school, I saw how much she leaned forward and used her weight to counter the load that is her back pack. Oh, and she carries an envelope bag and her snack pack of course. Her face is a picture of grim determination...a few more steps to the gate..... And believe me, once I reach her, I get her bags and my legs, on a few occasions, almost gave. And it was torture for the back and the neck. I don't know how Maxine does it. But I could not bear it. The bag she uses now is a salmon coloured Samsonite with generous padding but still I don't think it is quite cut out for the job. In the course of the day, she would also go up and down the stairs apart from covering the distance of two courtyards to get to the gate to her classroom.
So today, I got Maxine a new bag. I know she has said that she will not use a wheeled bag. The reason? She's in the fourth grade. Not prep nor grade 1 or 2.


She can't possibly use a wheeled aparador bag embellished with all those characters that I've pointed out to her from store to store that we went to. She, after all, is now one of the older kids in her schoolbus. Ah, yes, the tween age. Image before comfort. But I did better. I got her a covertly wheeled backpack with the sleek pull up handle. Best of all, unlike other wheeled bags, the mechanism was not heavy at all. And I could not believe my luck, it was pink. I can't wait to hear it now..."Mama, you are great."...the only thing I strive to be for my kids.

a true individual

This evening, Jun and Nikki went over her homework. Yes folks. She is three years old and attending nursery school.
I could see and hear their interaction thanks to the marvel that is the internet.
The Lesson: Emotions. Happy, Sad, Scared.
Jun read the scenario to her. Nikki is walking and suddenly you saw a snake (Jun provided realism with a hissing sound effect and writhing arm movements). What do you feel?
Nikki (in her most exuberant): Happeeee!!!! I love snake..Yes!!

How often would you hear that from a little kid? Anyway, this reminds me of when we were in a school supply store. Nikki wanted to get a watercolor set and a drawing book to unleash her art on. On the counter, the sales lady spread out the many drawing books with varying Disney Princess characters on the covers. This lady was giving my Nikki a hard time choosing and then would probably end up asking me to get more than just one. A sales strategy, I'm sure. Nikki was bent over the pile and seriously scanning. A few moments later, "This one! This one!" She excitedly pointed to a cover underneath the pile. And who do you know...Mr Bean. Nikki kept nodding her head with a big smile on her face. "Yes, I like Mr. Bean."

She is definitely her own true individual.

spot the not!

There's always some announcement adorning the common areas in the Toronto apartment building where I live. Reading this one brought a smile to my face. See if you can spot why. It 's not only in the Philippines...

planning for the next chapter

Only a mere 8 months to go. That is how I want to think of it. And then, this fellowship will be done. Time to move on to the next chapter. After almost these three years, I just want to start living life...get settled again. I must admit that I have a feeling uncertainty about what awaits me when I go back to the Philippines. Given the current turn of events, with the dread of a recession, whether this decision to return will haunt me sometime down the road remains to be seen. I plan to pick up again where I left off with my practice in Bulacan. I am positively skeptical though if I would get enough stimulation from that population base given what I am trained in and what for. Which makes me consider getting in to a Manila based hospital but I am all too naive in their ways. And if politicking is involved, I would rather not. It seems I would be my own deterrent. But no. I am fully cognizant that the only way to know is to go ahead. If I slip, I can only pick up myself again and be better. I have no visions of grandeur. I only have simple aspirations and that mainly is to provide for and see my children grow up happy and healthy, and be the best they can be in whatever they choose to do.

Life may get a bit complicated. But that makes it all the better. A challenge overcome, a victory so sweet.

I must say I can't wait to start writing my life's next chapter.

balikbayan box

My sister resumed her life in the US in late March after having been away for almost 8 years. During those 8 years, she stayed with my parents and personally tended to their needs. With her gone, my parents palpably felt her absence. To somewhat assuage this, she eagerly set off on shopping and in mid-May, sent two balikbayan boxes via an ABS CBN forwarding company. My father was excited to see his new Florsheim shoes. Lambing niya sa ate ko.

The months passed and with the turn of ensuing events, nabaon sa limot ang mga kahon.

On September 13, my ate went back to the US again after having come home on August 4. After having buried our mother on August 30.

On September 13, the two balikbayan boxes arrived....after four months. Opening them was bittersweet. Almost a full box were things for our mom. Her favorite things. A tall pile of crossword puzzle books. Packs of Pilot G2 pens, the only ones she would use. Bottles of Clairol Loving Care Medium Brown. Egyptian cotton shirts. Tins of Campbells cream of mushroom. Her favored kind of bath mitts. Things part of her day-to-day. Packs upon packs of Boost. Varying multivitamin preparations and her CoQ10. Hordes of Cetirizine and cortisone creams / lotions (mom was a perpetual atopic).

They would have been a delight to see for her. But it was too late.
Now it is a sight to behold and feel our loss more greatly so.

of death and taxes

Buhay pa nga, pinaghahati-hatian na. How distasteful it is to ask, let alone talk, about acquiring one's inheritance from ancestors while the latter are still living. Ang gahaman naman. Such is the Filipino way of thinking. This is my impression.
The truth is though, not one of us will live forever.
Another truth is, even in the time of overwhelming grief over a loved one's passing, the government will, sooner or later, come knocking. May nabuwis na ngang buhay, papatawan pa din ng buwis uli.

However, Jun's family is not like any other Filipino family. They openly talk about anything. No holds barred. It was his parents who brought up the matter of distributing their properties while they are still alive. My father in law is a practical man and together with my mother in law, they had a family meeting and let their children discuss / deal / compromise amongst themselves. Harap-harapan.

That makes sense. I am working my tail off for my kids. What could be more gratifying than for me to still be around to see them actually have and enjoy what I have toiled for. And not the government, Lord knows where they spend tax money on. Morbid as this may seem, but Jun and I are preparing. Whatever we acquire, our kids' names will be right there as owners as well. It will certainly make it less painful having not to deal with deathly death taxes.