End of a Chapter

While looking at your (family) pictures, it felt so good that we are estranged.  I can't believe I spent almost half of my life living with you.  And I'm just too glad I'm not part of it anymore.  It was a life full of lessons and realizations.  I know that God allowed that chapter to end because I deserve something better.

I am now in my "better" chapter.  I can't wait to turn to the next page and be in my "best".

The DFA experience

ONLINE APPOINTMENT
I scheduled an online appointment with DFA last week. I needed to have my passport renewed because of an impending trip. Though I know I am pressed for time I still went ahead with the appointment and was just keeping my fingers crossed that I would be able to get it earlier than the rush processing of 10 days. Anyway, I clicked the 11:30AM appointment for December 9.

GOING THERE - COMMUTE
The weather was not that very cooperative today. Coming from Antipolo, I and my partner took the shuttle to Ayala Avenue. We were able to ride the shuttle at around 9AM. Because it was raining, traffic was expected to be bad. At about 10:45AM we alighted in Buendia and took the taxi to DFA-OCA.

TIME OF ARRIVAL
We arrived at the DFA a little past 11AM. We entered the Gate #2. Even if it was raining, the guards still insisted on checking the printed passport application form to check the appointment time. Then I was directed to proceed to a table in front of where the guards are located. I showed them the printed application form, put a stamp on it then directed me to proceed to a tent with an "11:30" label and with several benches with several people already seated. I seated at the 4th row. It took about 5 minutes before we were asked to enter the DFA office.

LINING UP
Upon entering the "office", don't think for one second that you'd already be accommodated.  Once inside, there were about 8 rows of benches used by overly patient passport applicants to sit on while on queue.  I was accommodated at around 1:30 PM in one of the 5 open windows on that day.  

REQUEST FOR EXTENSION OF VALID
My purpose was to renew my application.  But, realizing that my flight was dec 18, I knew that the passport can not make it in time for my trip.  I just then asked if it's possible to extend validity of my passport.  I was asked to proceed to the Director' office.

In the director's office, I waited for another hour to be called.  I was asked to prepare a letter stating the reason why I needed an extension.  I waited another 30 minutes for the approval of my request.  Then, I was instructed to pay for the fee (P200) at the second floor of the building (this took me another 15 minutes).  After paying, I went back to the Director's office, showed my receipt and was asked to come back 2 days after to claim my passport.

TIME FINISHED
I left the building at around 4PM.

POSITIVE

• The staff in the Director's office was friendly.  I was expecting they will ask too many questions and documentations but, I was only required to write a letter of request. 
• The fee for extension is very reasonable at P200.00

NEEDS MAJOR IMPROVEMENT

• The online application is obviously not being followed.  My appointment was at 11:30 and only got to the window at 1:30.  I assume they accept 100 or more applicants online per allotted schedule. 
• They need more staff to man their windows to accommodate more people.
• The guard, who is guiding the applicants to the window, was rude.  People have lined up for more than 1 hour, we deserve courtesy.  
• The office is too far at least from my place.  Not very convenient to go to.

How to Forgive Anyone—and Why Your Health Depends on It

What, exactly, does it take to move past a lifetime of hurts? Harriet Brown goes on a mission to discover the true meaning of forgiveness.

By Harriet Brown

From the May 2011 issue of O, The Oprah Magazine

Fred Luskin wants me to forgive my mother. And, while I'm at it, my father, my third-grade teacher, my passive-aggressive coworker, the woman who cut me off on the highway, and the guys in Washington who've made such a mess of things. Not for their sake, but for mine: Luskin is convinced I'll be less anxious, more upbeat, and healthier if I do.

After studying forgiveness for close to 20 years, he should know. A lean wolfhound of a man with a mop of bushy hair parted down the middle, Luskin holds a PhD in counseling and health psychology from Stanford University, where he is the cofounder and director of the Stanford Forgiveness Project. He's a pioneer in the burgeoning forgiveness field, and it appears he's onto something. Study after study has found that forgiving is good for the body as well as the soul. It can lower blood pressure and heart rate and reduce levels of depression, anxiety, and anger. People who forgive generally have more and better relationships with others, feel happier and more hopeful, and score higher on just about every measure of psychological well-being.

The trouble is, most of us don't know how to do it. There's no playbook for forgiveness, no manual for getting past betrayals, disappointments, and hurts. This is where Luskin comes in. He's the master of forgiveness how-to. He believes forgiveness is a trainable skill that everyone can—and should—learn.

And this is why, on a sunny Friday morning, I'm seated at a conference room table at the Ackerman Institute for the Family, a therapy-training facility on Manhattan's Upper East Side. A dozen other women are with me, mostly therapists looking to broaden their skills, though a few of us have come for personal reasons. My main motivation is a painful relationship with my mother, who has a history of erratic behavior and lashing out at me (and others). Despite my many efforts at reconciliation, we've been estranged for most of my adult life. I'm here to find out if forgiveness could change our dynamic.

Luskin, dressed in khakis and docksiders, looks like he's ready to sail down the Hudson, not lead a workshop. He has no laptop, no briefcase, no handouts or notes, not even a copy of his book, Forgive for Good. He slouches at the head of the table and talks in a low, patient voice, his hands occasionally smoothing his hair. He tells us that despite what we may have heard about forgiveness "journeys," there are really only two steps in the process: grieving and letting go. Grieving, after you have been wronged, means letting yourself feel the anger, hurt, and trauma in all its original pain—but not indefinitely. "After about two years, most people have had plenty of time to process," Luskin explains. "Then they're ready to move on."

Not moving on—hanging on to resentment and rage—is tantamount to having an existential tantrum, according to Luskin. "We think the world owes us," he says. "But it doesn't. Babies die when they're born. Women are raped. Whole ethnic groups are wiped out. There's no such thing as fair. The guy who loses a parking space to a more aggressive driver thinks, "I want that parking space." A mother whose child has been murdered thinks, "I want my child to be alive." Either way, that's sometimes just not how it works."

A ripple of shock runs through the room. How can anyone compare losing a parking space to losing a child? "It's better not to get caught up in content," Luskin says. By content he means each person's individual story, the source of her anger or hurt.

No matter what the offense, he continues, the process of forgiveness is the same: You let go of anger and hurt by being mindful and focusing on gratitude and kindness. Again, the ripple runs around the table. That's it? A little mindful meditation and all is forgiven? Luskin smiles wryly. "Forgiveness concepts are simple," he says. "It's the execution that's hard."

Twenty-six years ago, when psychologist Robert Enright, PhD, first got interested in forgiveness, his colleagues thought he'd lost his mind. "They said, 'How can a scientist study something so fluffy?'" he recalls. Enright, who's now a professor of educational psychology at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, takes something of a philosophical approach to his subject. He sees forgiveness as a moral imperative first (turn the other cheek because it's the right thing to do) and a practical matter second (and, oh yes, doing so will probably make your life better). "The decision to forgive touches you to your very core, to who you are as a human being," he says. "It involves your sense of self-esteem, your personal worth, the worth of the person who's hurt you, and your relationship with that person and the larger world."

Much of Enright's research has focused on people who forgive the seemingly unforgiveable—people like Marianne Rosen, 52, who volunteered for one of Enright's earliest studies at UW–Madison in the early 1990s. Rosen's father began sexually and emotionally abusing her when she was 5 years old, and by the time she was in her late 20s, she'd resigned herself to living with rage, hurt, and fear for the rest of her life. Enright wondered if forgiveness could help in such an extreme case: "The literature at the time basically said, 'There's very little the psychological sciences can do for someone so gravely wounded.'"

The study Rosen volunteered for compared incest survivors who were offered forgiveness training with those who weren't. For more than a year, Rosen met weekly with Suzanne Freedman, PhD, then a graduate student of Enright's, now an associate professor of educational psychology at the University of Northern Iowa. The goal of the meetings was to allow Rosen to relive her pain and experience her grief in a safe place; somewhere along the way, Rosen made an intellectual decision to forgive her father, who had committed suicide when she was 11. "The work enabled me to see that he was not able to break the chain of abuse," she says. "And I got to a point where I actually wanted to see him. So I went to Chicago and found where he was buried, and put a pebble on top of his headstone. I remember just sobbing and finally feeling there was some kind of resolution." After years of feeling simmering resentment toward her father, she says, "I just wasn't angry anymore."
Like Rosen, the other participants in Enright's study made surprising emotional progress. Those who had gone through the forgiveness training felt less anxiety and depression, and more hope and higher self-esteem, than those who hadn't. A year later, the gains still held. The study had changed the participants' lives.

But how? Researchers are now using functional magnetic resonance imaging to see if the answer lies within the brain. A team at the University of Pisa in Italy asked people to imagine forgiving someone and then observed changes in cerebral blood flow, which signaled the parts of the brain that became more active. They found that several regions "lit up," especially areas that regulate emotional responses, moral judgments, perceptions of physical pain, and decision making. By creating this kind of neural map, researchers hope to learn more about how forgiveness works on both a physical and a psychological level.

Kathleen Lawler-Row, PhD, a psychology professor at East Carolina University, is one of several researchers exploring the relationship between forgiveness and health—physical, emotional, and spiritual. She thinks the effects of forgiveness go beyond lowering blood pressure and improving sleep. Once you forgive someone for something very painful, "you never experience life the same way again," she says. "You're more flexible, less black-and-white in your expectations of how life or other people will be. If there's one thing that characterizes people who have experienced forgiveness, it's that kind of larger perspective: I can't predict what life will hand me, but I'm going to respond to it in this way."

Like Luskin, Enright, and others, Lawler-Row believes that forgiveness is at heart a choice, one that any of us can make at any time, no matter the "content" we're wrestling with. How do we do it? Maybe the choice depends in part on how we define the idea. Forgiveness doesn't mean rationalizing or condoning abuse. And forgiveness doesn't mean a sudden case of amnesia. Marianne Rosen knows exactly what her father did and what he was capable of. She can't forget that, but she can change the story of her future. "Forgiving enabled me to realize I could create my own path," she says. "I wasn't just plopped down on this cruddy path I had to walk the rest of my life. I was in control."For the rest of the morning, Luskin takes those of us in the workshop through some basic mindfulness exercises. We practice abdominal breathing. Through guided visualizations, we're asked to picture someone we love and imagine our hearts opening. I think of my mother-in-law, Vivian, one of the "other mothers" I've sought in my life, who died four years ago. I'm astonished to feel tears on my cheeks and warmth spreading through my body. I also feel calmer, which apparently is the idea. But it's not long before my mind leaps back to my anger at my own mother.

"When you think about a wrong someone did to you, your fight-or-flight system is aroused," explains Luskin. "Your heart beats faster, your blood pressure goes up, you feel hurt and mad. But you could be sitting here feeling how good it is to be alive on such a beautiful day. You won't always be alive, you know. So doesn't it make more sense to appreciate this moment, this now?"

It's all I can do not to roll my eyes, and looking around the table, I see I'm not the only one. I want to say: "Yes, but I don't know how to do that! I'm stuck in all these feelings! And my mother really, really hurt me!" Luskin ignores our agitation and asks us to make lists of things we've thought, felt, and done in response to whatever our forgiveness issue is. Therapy, I write. Medication. Talking to my mother. Talking to my father. Talking to other people about my mother. Not talking to my mother. Arguing with my mother. Reading books about mother-daughter relationships.

Then Luskin asks us to put a star by anything that hasn't been helpful. Every item on my list gets a star.

"Does anything on your list solve the problem?" he asks the room. A unanimous "No." "So is your response a skillful, healing way to deal with a life problem?" he says. "And if not, how do you find a better one?"

We stare at Luskin. "This is very simple stuff," he tells us for the dozenth time. "Simple but not easy. If I could boil it down to one sentence—"

He pauses, and a blonde woman sitting at the end of the table pipes up, "Don't worry, be happy!"

Everyone but Luskin laughs. "That's pretty much it," he says. "Don't worry, be happy."

I'm reminded of my first sailing lesson, alone in a Sunfish while a friend called instructions from another boat. "Get closer to the wind!" he kept shouting, to my bafflement. The wind was all around. How could I get closer?I understand that forgiveness is for me, not my mother; that I'm the one most hurt by my anger and frustration. And I want to let go of those feelings, I really do. I want to "be happy," as Luskin would say. But we've been at this for hours and I don't have even the vaguest idea of how to do it.

At the afternoon break, I snag Luskin for a few minutes to pose a question: It's one thing to forgive something that's happened, that's over and done. But what if the person who hurt you in the past keeps hurting you over and over, in the present? He interrupts before I get the last words out. "It's not happening now, this second," he says in an offhand way. "So try again."

I take a breath, unclench my jaw, and pose a different question: "How can you keep yourself safe with a difficult person?" In response, Luskin smiles—the first genuine smile I've seen from him all day. "That's the right question," he says, beaming. "That gets rid of the blame and the enemy." And keeps the focus where it belongs, on me. "You can probably answer that question yourself," he says.

My answer, I tell him, is to keep my distance from my mother, talking to her maybe once or twice a year. He nods encouragingly. "Now, can you do that with an open heart?" he asks.

I sit back in my chair and consider—deeply, seriously, honestly—what that would mean: No more bitching about my mother. No more whining to friends for sympathy. No more self-pity. Thinking of my mother with as much compassion as I can muster, but not necessarily getting any closer to her. Accepting our relationship as it is rather than wishing it were different.Forgiveness, I begin to see, is not about pretending you don't feel angry or hurt. It's about responding out of kindness rather than rage. It's about letting yourself feel the full spectrum of emotions—grief and anger and hurt, but also kindness and compassion. Even toward someone who's hurt you deeply.

So that's how Bud Welch, whose daughter, Julie, died in the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995, can honestly say he wishes Timothy McVeigh had not been put to death. It explains how grieving mother Pearlie Burgess could stand up in a Syracuse, New York, courtroom last spring and forgive the man convicted of killing her daughter. And how Marianne Rosen can wish she could have lunch with her father.

I'm a long way off from that kind of forgiveness, but I'm starting to get a sense of the possibilities. I'm not ready to let go of my "content," and I don't at the moment want a closer relationship with my mother. But as we file out of the conference room, I decide on a first step—because I understand, now, that forgiveness requires a decision. You have to invite it. As I walk down Lexington Avenue in the glorious late-afternoon light, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I picture my mother and imagine my heart opening.

Summer 2008

Two more days and we're off to Boracay. It will be the first for me and the kids. I have always wanted to go. But, time and circumstances never permitted me/us to do so. This summer, I will not let anything or anyone stop me from going.

I will be going with 3 of my college friends and their families. We have planned this for almost 1 year. In June 2007, we were in Puerto Galera (minus 1 of my friends) and we have already talked about Boracay even then. It's finally here. Well, almost. We'll be there on Thursday via Cebu Pacific.

I am more excited for April and Zam. My kids just love the beach. And this is also a dream come true for them.

Again, we'll surely miss Reddy. But, I know he'll be watching us enjoy the powder white sand, the sun and the water.

Summer 2009... Palawan.

Eavesdropping

A relative working in the US who's earning $4000 a month, a psycho-killer/rapist who's already in their village, Slippers getting lost, etc. etc. These are a few of the stories I heard during my commute this morning. And then I scrambled inside my bag to look for the ipod. "And I hate how much I love you, girl....".

I am sure my fellow commuters feel the same way. Most of them are already looking at the two women. Especially, the men who I suppose have enough of woman rants at home. Oh Man! I can still hear them...*sigh* It's about a dog one of them wants to poison. I turned the volume up. "I hope you know, I hope you know that this has nothing to do with you..." Her rice cooker is missing.

Thank God my stop is near. I can't wait to get off this ride.

Thank you Rihanna, Ne-yo and Fergie for keeping me company in my morning ordeal. :-)

Mommy woes

I realize that when you are a mom of 2 girls, you have to prepare yourself with all the girly stuff you can think of. Monthly period, crushes, all day text messages and a certain budget for their load, shoes, accessories, techie gadgets, etc.

I must say that one of the exciting (and tiring) part of having a daughter is their prom preparation. When I had my prom, I didn't enjoy preparing for it. Maybe because I was more conscious of my parents finances at that time. Anyway, my daughter had her senior's prom last February 15. But, before we got to "the" day, I had to go through several text messages from her bugging about when we will buy her prom dress. When we finally bought the dress, she had to bug me about her shoes, her make-up, and the list goes on and on. I must say, teeners today are luckier because they have easy access to boutiques where they can choose and buy their dresses. This is the day and age of working moms, moms like me who will indulge my girls with pretty dresses (that I can afford). My daughter is luckiest, because she has a make-up artist aunt who always make her beautiful. (Hey, I have a make-up artist mom!) A "grandma" who will make sure that she gets to and from the prom safe and sound. Oh well, the eldest sister is through with proms. I wonder how it will be with my second daughter.

PS. My girl is the one in violet. The prettier one, of course.

Happy Feet

As the title suggests, this movie is supposed to make you happy. I watched it with my kids in the theater more than a year ago. It was a cute, touching and yes, happy movie. But, while watching it again last weekend, it just made me cry.

The time that we watched it in the theater my husband was still here. He did not watch Happy Feet with us, though. He watched another movie (Casino Royale).

Maybe it's just me giving meaning to everything. But, after he passed away, i realized that maybe he didn't watch this movie with us anymore because it was his way of preparing us on his passing. We have always watched movies with the kids. At that time, I was kind of disappointed that he didn't. He can always watch Casino Royale some other time, but, why did he choose to watch it on the same day?

It's only now that I realize (or have given meaning to) his reason for it.

Closures (Part 2)

"Written by a friend for his ex-girlfriend"

Some humid nights ago during lent, I was awakened by a beautiful dream which went onto almost becoming a nightmare. The dream started with a faceless lady whispering "I love you" in my dreamscapes of lush gardens planted with maybe peach-coloured tulips and roses and a variety of ornamentals. In the dream, she embraced me and I embraced her back. We held each other, felt each other's warmth, listened to each other's heartbeat. Suddenly the lady set herself free and started stabbing my heart. She kept on stabbing me while I was in shock. In that state, I woke up. I felt lonelier than ever. I cried and I wanted to cry more but the thought of asking myself about what my dream meant overwhelmed me.

Deep inside, I knew who the girl in my dream was. But like a fool thinking that dreams are reversed in real life, I curtained my thoughts. Hours after the dream, I cannot help but draw out its significance in my life. I reflected on the idea that the dream was about the woman whom I have loved all these years but never did return the same kind of love back to me. And in so doing, I was hurt. Not because she never actually returned the love back, but more importantly, under the present circumstances, she really cannot love me the way I love her. Not as a lover, maybe not even as a friend.

What hurts most is the fact that she is actually working it out with the person whom she married but lately found out to have lost respect for her (that's what she said). Now, I feel like a rabid opportunist for grabbing the chance to become more than close to her when I knew that she does not love him anymore (or so I thought?). I kept thinking about the possibility of losing one's love for someone and yet still try to make the relationship work. Aside from finding it paradoxical, I find it self-defeating. Or am I just still interested in her? I admit I am.

Ahhhh, now I know - The kids - two lovely children (and probably a new one spawned during the lenten vacation) - who cannot be caught up in the complicated turmoil of a separation. The movie and comic-like drama of using children to salvage a marriage that has lost its inspiration - love and respect - is played up, again and again, along with perpetual religious overtones highlighted by phrases ceremoniously uttered by would-be-husbands and wives in their respective wedding days. But then again, maybe it's just me and my self-centered, selfish affectations for her that pushes me to desire her separation. Now, you know what a selfish jerk I am. Is this love for real? Are my feelings for her really sincere? Who cares?! I believe that it makes no difference now. Not ever.

I figured that there would be no more promises of exploring each other's sexuality and pleasures, no more plans to stay overnight at a company-owned hotel in Manila, no more brief, tight cuddles; no more teasing text messages, no more office calls, no letters, and ultimately, no hope of being together. It's that simple. Nothing. As if everything just came into this grinding halt, and all that is felt remain unsure. *Needless of any definition, I love her still though, and I would continue doing so within my undefined lifetime.* That's all I ever wanted to tell her. And with things being worked out between her and her husband - she doesn't have to know where I am and how I am. She doesn't have to even remember the things that make her remind me of who I am.

As a final gesture of letting her go, I finally gave her portrait. For years, I whispered to that portrait, gazed into her charcoal-drawn eyes,smiled at her paper-laden smile...kissed her before sleeping at night... I have held her portrait for quite a time, and now, it's time to be given to its rightful owner for her to decide what to do with it. Like the old letters and cards, it could also be burnt to ashes and flushed down memory lane.

Life is full of contradictions, it makes the world go round; it is continuity. It is life in itself. Only ambivalence in the realm of love stops it. It stopped my world from revolving. It closed my life.

I choose to be okay

Some people close to me may be wondering why I look okay despite the recent tragedy in my life. Maybe it's just my personality or maybe I am just aware of the realities of life. I cannot stop living even when my husband has passed away.

I chose not to cry when I saw my husband on the ER bed. Because, I just talked to him minutes back and I didn't think then that he will be leaving us. I knew then that he will pull through. I also didn't want the kids to see me giving up their father's life.

I now choose to be okay, to move on, to get a life. I just can't sulk in one corner and let everyone witness how i grieve. I just can't be boxed in the stereotype "grieving wife". In this country, widows are expected to cry buckets of tears until we're probably dehydrated from crying. Widows are expected to wear black to signify that "yes, i am grieving". Widows should not go out and have fun with my kids and friends, because that is a disrespect to the person who passed away. Probably, not even expected to be seen smiling or laughing, because maybe then, people would think I'm celebrating. Simply put, widows are expected to "die" with their husbands.

In as much as I would like to spend the whole month, the whole year or even my whole life crying over my husband's passing, it's just not me. It's not that I refused to it's just that I don't think it would do me and my kids any good. Practically speaking, tears cannot feed 2 hungry kids. Wearing black cannot send 2 kids to school. And sulking can NEVER pay bills.

This is not to say that I am way past the grieving stage. I still am grieving. I still have my moments of wishing he's still with me. Moments of crying and sobbing. But, I do that in the confines of my own space. And I do that to unload my heart of the pain. In fact, I don't think I can ever recover from Reddy's passing. Feeling and being okay is just my way of coping. Of moving on. I don't want to apologize for falling short of people's expectations of how i should grieve. Again, other people's expectation can neither feed me and my kids, send them to school and pay my bills. This is just how I handle loss. And I think this is how it should be done.

Not crying buckets of tears, not wearing black, going out with my friends will never ever mean that I have stopped and would ever stop loving Reddy. He will always be a part of my life. A very special and vital part of my person. Having said that, I have gotten part of my strength from him. And I know this is how he would want me to deal with my grief.

My heart's prayer

God of compassion, there is such a hole in my heart! Today should be a day of joy, but I feel only emptiness and loss. While the world celebrates around me, I remember Christmas celebrations of the past and I long to have my loved one with me. I bring my sorrows to you, Lord, like some odd gift of the magi and dump them at your feet. In my blind tears I wonder if anyone can possibly understand the depth of my sadness. I know, you can. You sent your son to be with us in our deepest sorrows and I know that even though I might not feel it now, you are here with me, grieving with me, caring for me in my sadness.

Dearest lord, help me to turn to the one I miss so much today and speak. Help me heal the loss of our parting and help me not to regret the things I didn't say. Sorrow tears at my heart, but today I ask that my loss soften my heart and make me more compassionate with everyone I meet, so that my loss may become a gift to others...

the christmas spirit

Every year, it has been our "tradition" to buy gifts for family members. We go to the "tiangge's" to look for gifts to give away. I was always tasked and given the responsibility to make a list, choose the items and buy the gifts for the very special people in our lives.
This year, I'm just not in the mood to do the task. It's almost December and I have not bought one single christmas gift. I guess I'm just not up for it. I would like to apologize to all these special people but, I would have to pass up on this, and hopefully just this year.I used to enjoy shopping for gifts. Sadly, it's not one of the things i enjoy doing anymore. It's just not right doing it by myself this time. I have been thinking about it for days, but i just can't do it. I don't want to. Because it will just bring back memories. Good memories, in fact, but these good memories will surely make me sad. Honestly, I am not even planning to celebrate christmas this year. I have this "what is there to celebrate?" feeling. But then, i have kids and christmas is truly for kids. And I know it will be unfair if I insist on not celebrating christmas. I owe them my strength, they keep me going, and they are the source of my happiness. And these are enough reasons for me to feel the christmas spirit.

Christmas around the corner

Same time last year, we were already buying some gifts for pamangkins and inaanaks. Same time last year, the kids and I were already done with our Christmas tree with pink trimmings. It was a "pink" Christmas for the 4 of us. The 2 kids, me and reddy.

Same time last year, my husband and I had already planned for the noche buena menu of the juicy and delicious inihaw, my own version of pasta, ham and cheese.
My husband and I planned a more sumptuous menu for the new year's eve. Since, this is when almost all of our relatives get together and celebrate in one home, our home. Reddy was already looking for a reliable but inexpensive grill pan because our new year's menu should have been rib eye steak, Salad ala Italianni's and yep, some more pasta. I remember vividly how excited we were looking forward to sharing this new "Reddy's" specialty to the family. We wanted to celebrate the new year differently. Starting from the food we will prepare. Every year we were already used to eating the arroz caldo/goto specialty of mama luz and the usual Reddy's special inihaw. But since, mama was in the US at that time, we decided to make the menu more "sosyal".

But, we didn't get to make the steak, toss the salad, and cook the pasta al dente. It was a different christmas and new year for all of us. A different turn of events, a different life. I am still not used to not having him around, especially this season.

It has been a very different christmas in 2006, Reddy was still with us physically, though in a very different state. It was a different new year, too. We tried to celebrate, but it was very hard to call it a celebration when we were all in tears.

I feel his absence now more than ever. I miss him everyday. I will surely and terribly miss him this christmas as I have missed him the day he left. Because, the same time last year, we were still planning our christmas and new year's menu, together.

Overloved

21+ years...How on earth can one person love me all these years?

It's so overwhelmingly unbelievable that I would like to kick or pinch myself just to make myself realize that it's for real. That he is for real.

To think that I have hurt him enough to blacklist me from his life forever.

But, I am truly blessed.

I am so touched and I am so thankful to get that much love.

Things that make me happy

• The genuine laughter of my kids



• Watching a movie



• Goldilocks mocha cake



• Chicharong bulaklak and coke



• Malling with my kids



• Having coffee with my friends



• Watching funny videos at youtube



• "Balikbayan" box items



• candid photos of my kids



• Fun talk with my "Sun" officemates



• Nonsense chatting with Elise



• Conversations with Zam



• Conversations with April



• The smell of fruity body butter and applying it to my body



• Accompanying my daughters to the salon



• Morning kisses from my kids before they go to school



• Arriving home in the evening and looking at my sleeping kids



• Looking at Reddy's pictures



• Watching House MD episodes (about 5 to 8 episodes non-stop)



• The "Say a Little Prayer" scene in the movie My Best Friend's Wedding



• Seeing my kids enjoy watching High School Musical 1 and 2



• Listening to my kids singing



• Watching my kids dance



• Being with my nieces and nephews



• Reading a good book



• A rainy day



• Text messages from loved ones



• Coffee at Figaro



• McDonald's meals



• And, yes, my present job and some people i work with make me really happy

I truly thank the Lord for all the happiness he has been showering me everyday. For I know that not everyone are blessed with these simple but heartwarming "happiness" all the time.

FLASHBACKS and FEARS

It happens all the time. During my commute to work, before i go to sleep, when i wake up, every family gathering. I just find myself staring blankly and the scenes from reddy's last days just flashes in my mind. And the tears just starts falling.

The scenes vary. The moment I got to the hospital. The time I called family members and then I will try to recall what I did and said in those moments. Who I called first, what I told our family members, etc.

The day when he left us. Silently. His heart just stopped. His lifeless body in bed for a few hours. Cried a little, whispered our goodbyes and then settled the hospital bills.

The afternoon when we brought him to the memorial chapel. Hardest part was choosing the coffin and haggling for the 5-day wake package of the chapel telling the agent to give in to our request as a Christmas gift. *sigh*

That instant when we arrived in the chapel and the moment I saw him lying in the coffin...his face was so peaceful. But, I felt my feet were so heavy I had to drag myself towards the coffin. It was just so hard to look at him in that state.

The heartbreaking scene when his mother and sister arrived from the US. They didn't know that Reddy already passed when they arrived. They thought they'll still go straight to the hospital.

Our happy moments together. It's too painful because I know I can't have those moments anymore.

Realizing that at the end of each day it's just me and the kids.

Thinking how we can get through life without him. Silently asking him why he left us so early.

Dreading the coming special events and celebrations because he won't be part of that anymore. And knowing that those occasions will be attended by family members and that will make me feel more incomplete.

Remembering with fondness our last birthday celebration together. A lunch at Italianni's gateway. And not wanting it to come because i am so used celebrating our birthdays together.

Memories of you

I am still filled with memories of you
And I want it to stay that way
because that's the only way I know
where I can be with you again

Thankful

I have been feeling so low lately that I don't even know how to cure it with happy thoughts. One friend who has been a witness to my crying told me to stop holding on to RED because he was just lent to me. And to start living with the "living". I kind of felt offended with those words. After all, no one can ever understand the way i feel.

I am still trying to fight the sadness the "happy thoughts" way. By being thankful for the 14 years 10 months and 15 days of marriage (I still am married to Reddy, though); 16 years 3 months and 9 days of being "together"; 21 years of just knowing each other, a few weeks of which as "mortal enemies". Well, we had this childish fight. I didn't know about it at first but, while i was walking along our street inside the village he just started yelling at me "bad trip! bad trip!" I later learned that it was the comment I made about their "mobile" group. It's a group he formed with his friends when they were teenagers where they will play music for parties. Anyway, a year later he started courting me. He told me that he got attracted to me when he saw me drank a cup of coffee during the debut party of one of our friends. That was, if i remember it correctly, in July 1990. Less than a month after that he formally courted me. On his first visit at home, he stayed until about 11PM, during that time, by my parent's standard, it's too late. My father, went to the living room with a banig (A sleeping mat) and started spreading the banig in front of us. And then he said something like "gabi na, bukas naman" (It's already late, visit again tomorrow). Fast forward to February 8, 1992, almost 2 years after, we got married. A few months after we had our first daughter.

April has 14 years 8 months and 2 days with Reddy. 14 birthdays, 13 christmas-es, first communion, countless movies together, rough plays, video games, and never-ending happy memories with him.

Zam's 9th birthday was celebrated when Reddy was in the hospital. A few days before that was Zam's first communion. These two liked the same physical activities. They both like to play badminton , to swim, play counter strike, and yes, joke around. Zam just happens to be a girl but she is almost exactly like her father.

I am thankful for the good memories we have shared with Reddy individually and as a family. I am truly thankful for our daughters April and Zam, for having their chance and their share of happy and memorable moments with their father. Although, he's not with us physically, he is always in our hearts and will forever be part of our happy thoughts.

We just miss you...everyday

Dear Reddy,
We went to Puerto Galera 2 weeks ago and as usual, we miss your playful presence. I can never match the "rough" water games you play with the kids. I know they missed that. I know they wished I can do that with them. But, I was sad that I can't. I guess there are things that I really can't do as a "father" to the kids. Beth, Kaye and Benjie missed you. Benjie pretended that he was drinking beer with you.

We'll be going to Hongkong this weekend. Vacations will never be the same without you. Tita Neng said had she known you'll be leaving us soon, she should have made us go to Hongkong last year. In that Hongkong trip we know you'll be with us. You'll never let us miss any fun part. This early, April has been bugging me to be with her in all the "fun" rides only you two can appreciate. This trip is more fun if you're with us. Be with us in your usual fun spirit. We love you Reddy. Every fun part we'll have in Hongkong is for you.

IT'S BEEN FOUR MONTHS...

I continue to miss you up to this day. The kids and I are moving on but, it's never the same. It will never ever be the same. How can i ever get over you when we had more than 15 years together. Sure, there were roadblocks but we were able to get past them. And, it sure will not be the same for the kids because you are the one and only "papa" they know. I don't even know if I'm filling up your shoes right. And I'm scared. I really am. Fact is I don't know if I can play my role well...as a single working mother and a first time "father".

I don't know how long I can hold on. They say I'm strong, I just hope they're right. But, how do they measure my strength?

I have been grieving in trickles and I don't know if it's doing me any good. I just want to do it that way, because in my mind if my grieving ends that means you're really gone. I know it's silly. I just see it that way. And if I choose to grieve all my life, it's all right. I'm the one grieving anyway. Right now, I don't want to pour out my grieving. I don't want to cry hard because I still want to believe in my heart that you're still here. That we're just not seeing each other. Please allow me to believe that all these times that I don't see you, you're just out with your friends, you're playing badminton, you're at work, you're out of town. I just don't want to think you're not here anymore. I miss you. I freakin' miss you so much!

mylene 04252007

A FRESH START

It's just coincidence that the day I said my goodbyes to my colleagues, it was also the day that I informed my parents-in-law that I and the kids have decided to live with my parents.

First, the new job. I resigned last March 13 not knowing where to go. It was an emotional, drastic and yes, stupid decision on my part. Stupid because, being a single mom, I cannot afford to be without a job. But, I left it all up to HIM. True enough, a week after I filed my resignation, I found a job. This is now my second day in my new "family" and I am enjoying it so far.

Second, a new yet old home. I am just going back to my roots. To where I really belong. Though, I never really left :)

I just feel that with Reddy's passing, I need to be around people who truly knows me. Who understands me more than anyone. It's not that my parents-in-law don't know me and don't understand me. It's just that we all are in grief and as much as I would want to support them with their grief...It might make mine worse. I just feel that I am not the best support system for them now and vice versa. I just feel comfortable being with my "own family" with all due respect to my in-laws who are so supportive of me and the kids in all aspect that I could not ask for more.

I just want to feel the bond of my family. Now that mine is incomplete. I just want my kids to be "just kids" and somehow even for some moment, they will not feel that they are still grieving. That they are part of a complete and "happy" family.

The home we've lived since my kids were born is a great reminder of their fun time with their father but, in the same way that it also give them the sadness that their father will not be coming "home".

That said, my decision is based on 2 beautiful souls. These 2 great blessings are my responsibility and the sole reason why I had to say goodbye to my colleagues to look for a new "family" and to go back to my new/old home and be with my "own family".

mylene 04172007