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. :-)
Friday, February 22, 2008
Saturday, February 16, 2008
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.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, January 7, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
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...
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...
Thursday, November 29, 2007
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.
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.
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