MEComposing

I don't know how to feel exactly. And I don't want to dwell on past conversations and what-could-have-beens. And if I will be true to myself, there really isn't pain... just some sort of jealousy. And yeah, some sadness.

I remember with an ex before... peace and closure came when he called to invite me to his wedding. Because then I realized we weren't really meant to be, and all the pain of the separation then was for a greater good. A greater love.

In a way it feels like that again, only greater. Because I felt I sort of left you behind. Because I always wanted to be sure you will end up as happy as I am. Because I want you to be loved and to love as much as I am. Because I love you and would always want nothing but the best for you.

I couldn't be that woman for you. But surely, this is a sign that I wasn't really meant to be that woman for you.

And it's okay. I'm happy. And now I know you are happy too.

*~*

Show me a Sign (Rachel Coleman)

"Tell me that you love, tell me that you're thinking of me
Tell me all about the things you're thinking
Day and night, both day and night
Tell me that you're happy and you love it when we're laughing
tell me more, oh, tell me more
Show me a sign"

Received this in my e-mail. It's embarassing to be so out of it that you forget such tragedies that happened to normal people... and nothing can be sadder about justice not being served.

Spread the word.

Two months ago I considered myself as one of those blessed and happiest people
on earth. Why not? I married a guy who was an epitome of kindness. A guy who
worshipped even the footsteps I made. More importantly, our union blessed us
with a daughter who not only became the main source of our happiness..more so;
she was the center of our lives.

We're simple folks who led a simple life. We felt the happiest even about
mundane things and inconsequential ones that most people would only take for
granted. Our joy mostly revolved on simple pleasures like a sudden trip to
Jollibee or a late night marauding of the fridge for any leftovers. A perfect
family with simple delights, dreams and aspirations...until that fateful night
on December 5, 2008.The day my husband and daughter were taken away from me in a
very violent way. That Friday night on December 5, 2008 marked the beginning of
all the terror, anguish and misery in my life.

In keeping with my ritual or "panata" on every first Friday of every month, I
went to Quiapo Church on the above mentioned date to pay homage and respect to
the Almighty One. My husband and daughter were supposed to pick me up in Pasay
City after which we planned on giving our daughter a treat to Jollibee. While
riding the jeep, I tried to call my husband to tell him that I was on my way to
our meeting place. But despite all the calls I made, my husband remained silent.
A very unusual occurrence inasmuch as he seldom missed my calls. Despite my
trepidation and wonder, I took the next jeep going home and prayed that
everything was alright. I even promised to myself that I would forgive my
husband for not answering my calls and for forgetting to pick me up.

I felt relieved when near our place my phone rung. Such relief was somehow only
momentary..in fact the phone call I got was the bearer of the worst news in my
entire life. My helper called, only to tell me that my husband and daughter
were shot to death by "men in uniform". The same men who were sworned to protect
innocent people from bad guys brutally slew the two most important persons in my
life. They were the same men whose sacred duty was to preserve the lives of the
public against all harm and danger. Yet...they were the same men who murdered my
love ones in the most cruel, savage and inhuman way.

My husband's face was unrecognizable because he was shot in the head at close
range while he was kneeling with his head bowed down. My daughter's young body
was riddled with bullets, one hit her head, blowing her brains out.., all from
too powerful guns and ammunitions fired by the "men in uniform" on two innocent
and defenseless persons.

The "men in uniform" were allegedly on a mission to take some gang of robbers
victimizing people at large. The police shot the crosswind van my husband and
daughter were riding Based on some witnesses' narration, the police sprayed
bullets into the van despite the lack of provocation or shots coming from the
van. In his last effort to save their lives, my husband grabbed my bloodied
daughter and shielded her with his body while trying to run away from the police
and tried to get cover from a parked jeepney My husband and daughter were so
defenseless. How can you mistake a child for a robber? How can you shot at
someone who was already kneeling with head bowed, an indication of helplessness.

My husband and daughter are gone...forever. The pain I feel for their lost is
too much too bear. And the only thing that motivates me to go on with life is
the mission to seek justice for their senseless killing. If the people who are
responsible for their death will be punished, if I could bring them the justice
they so richly deserve, my pain would be alleviated. The misery I will live by
will be lessened. My husband and daughter will be vindicated and I will learn to
live the remaining years of my life in peace..

Thus: I'm asking and begging everyone who will come across this letter/e-mail to
forward the same to all your relatives, friends, and acquaintances. . Help me
bring my cause to the eyes of the people capable of steering the wheel of
justice to the right direction. Help me make the loudest cry worthy of attention
by those people in-charge in rendering justice to those who deserve it.

Strength comes in numbers; it is where the impossible becomes possible. It is
also where the unattainable becomes achievable.

My heartfelt gratitude for everyone who will take a moment in their too busy
lives and forward this letter/e-mail to everyone they know. May God always
protect you and your love ones from all harm.

Lilian de Vera

While browsing Pex forums, I noticed a thread on "Nine Reasons People Cheat". Instead of clicking on it, I wondered if I could come up with my own list. Not sure how many i'll come up with though.

1) They don't morally feel they are obligated to be faithful.

2) They are insecure and need validation from others.

3) They believe they are entitled, especially if they're doing some things magnificently.

4) They are bored and turn to others to be entertained.

5) They are angry with their significant other.

6) They are lonely.

7) They are empowered to do so.

8) They are confused on what they truly believe or want.

9) They are being self-destructive.

10) They like the thrill.

11) They believe love should be romantic and passionate.

12) They, or their partner, has changed.

13) They're sick.



Weirdly enough, although each one I've mentioned may make someone understand the why and how of a cheat, I don't think there really is any reason that can excuse infidelity.

And notice, I didn't include libido in the list of reasons? :)

One of the problems in this day and age is that... technology is a fickle thing. What was a hit a year ago will be forgotten soon enough. And since I never got addicted to Friendster (I prefer Multiply) and now associate it with the pervs and sex workers of the KTV channel, I haven't logged into my account for almost a year.

But I logged in there just now, looking for my HS bestfriend who seems to have been leaving me messages there all this time. And yet we are both on Facebook! Couldn't find her though because she's using her married name only.

Anyway, hopefully we can reconnect and build on a friendship again. I miss having friends from way back. I miss hanging out with friends from a time I can only dream of now, and remember with fondness.

I do not want to leave links. Anyway, he was apologizing for his arrogance and viciousness and is trying to explain it away as a CREATIVE OUTBURST.

If he's so creative, why doesn't he just commit suicide? Dang him.

*~*

Karma gods... please be a b!tch to him, pretty please!!!

*~*

And Boyet Fajardo, NO, I do not want you representing ME abroad. Lhuillier is doing great without you casting negative vibes and worsening the prejudice against Filipinos.

grow strong, my love
grow brave
grow up, grow old
become the you
you want to become
grow up knowing you
are loved
grow up loving
someone

In a conversation with a friend a few days ago, I mentioned to him that I liked reading books and studying when I was young, mainly because I wanted to look smart. If I could dish out facts, speak English well, write poems ("prithee, try to understand, that thy world is not here but in Camelot"), and get honors, I figured I'd be perceived as smart.

He chided me, saying that he at least wanted to learn. He was a geek that way, wanting to understand the whys and wherefores and how things can be improved.

Of course, I may have had really great potential. I learned easily enough. I got honors at school without me realizing that I was running for one. But as I grew more aware, the driving force became that i'd be perceived as smart.

A still resentful part of me will say, "After all, that was the only thing my parents, especially my Mom, ever noticed about me." I was the smart child. That was my role, being smart and not giving them problems and worries about my grades. In PTA meetings, my Mom will even proudly broadcast how she finds it hard to get me to sleep because am always reading books. Classmates would then complain to me that their parents have scolded them about their study habits and have demanded that they be more like me.

Laughable, isn't it?

The adult part of me, however, only feels sadness for that fact. I did want to be perceived as smart eventhough I hated that it was the only thing appreciated about me. And over time, as I grew more into my own person, I sort of went the other way. I stopped applying myself. I stopped self-realizing. I settled on just being perceived as responsible.

And now... as a wife and mother, I don't feel smart nor responsible. So it's a struggle again, learning for learning's sake, and doing for doing's sake.

It was a bitter pill to swallow.

The minute our Dad left for the US, I started having issues with my sister. Basically, she didn't pass the local Nursing Board. My parents were very considerate of her and she didn't get any crap about it, instead, she was also even given a second chance without her having to ask for one. They figured, since it's still recession in the US anyway, and since she's still already here, might as well give her another chance to be empowered. Yes, empowered, because passing the board here doesn't mean anything if she wants to be a nurse in the US.

But of course, certain conditions were set for her. She had to work harder (review) and invest more of herself to increase her chances of succeeding the next time.

But what she does is have friends over.

And meet with BF.

And lie to me about going to our house in Lipa only to sleep over at the BF's.

What really upset me was not her sleeping over at her BF's. I am not stupid. She's 23 years old already and am sure she's already engaging in sexy times with that BF.

What upset me was I, being the designated guardian and a really concerned older sister, checked up on her if she arrived safe in Lipa. Since I couldn't contact her, I contacted her BF to at least have an idea. My sister told me she was the one who lied using the BF's phone to tell me she was indeed brought to the bus terminal and that the last thing she said to BF was she had a headache by the time she got to Lipa.

Imagine my worry and anger then to receive a text message the following morning from our houseminder in Lipa that my sister never got there. I knew the odds were likely that she was only just with her BF but since I still wasn't sure, I feared the worst! And after confirming the capricious lie she and her BF did, I was really so eager to see her and slap her.

But hubs made me realize that this shouldn't be MY problem. Sure, I can be concerned and all that, but since am not the one supporting my sister, this should be elevated to my parents, even though they're far away and will be thoroughly disappointed.

And it's true. My sister and I have had several squabbles before over her social life when she was still reviewing. I have already told her that she is, at best, an average student and thus have to work harder if she is to pass. But she never really listened. And I never told my parents she was like that.

Maybe Dad could have brought her along instead when he left instead of letting her stay here for the remainder of the year.

So I apologized to my Mom and had her talk to my sister. Mom, being the autocratic parent, dished out rules my sister is to follow, first and foremost of which is to obey ME.

Of course, just two days after, my sister attended a christening and met her BF again, without asking for my permission or even telling me formally.

So I reminded her that she was not supposed to leave the house without my blessing, and that her boyfriend, though no longer welcome, is only supposed to see her at home. And then I informed my parents and gave the BF's number to Mom.

Needless to say, my relationship with my sister has suffered a crucial damage. It makes me sad and angry but somehow it is also liberating. At least now there is room for growth in each of us and if we must grow apart for that growth to happen, so be it.

I was in the middle of a breastfeeding training when I started receiving messages about Francis M.'s death. In a weird way, I felt like everyone was trying to inform me... but I guess it's just another testament to who Francis M. is to the Filipino people: an icon, an era. And now he is no more.

At age 44, he is too young to die.

But at age 44, he has already accomplished much.

He is no more but his art lives on, his music lives on, his inspiration lives on. So I guess you could say, at age 44, he has served his purpose and done it well.

*~*

We just buried my maternal grandmother. Everyone went back to our house to eat and my cousins and I thought nothing of holing ourselves up in our bedroom to play "Mga Kababayan Ko" over and over (loudly) and dance to it too.

We were reprimanded by offended elders.

But it was 1990 and we were teens. Even now, I know, i'd do it again. After all, my impression that his music was cool and inspiring had nothing to do with my love for and sadness over my grandma.

*~*

I have always felt sad that Francis M. stopped composing and singing. It's like, he was coming up with so many great albums and then suddenly, a switch was turned off. He remained visible (and i'd later find out, he continued being up to a lot of things) but there were no more original, inspiring songs.

Anyway, my all-time fave Francis M. song would be COLD SUMMER NIGHTS. It may sound cheesy but really, who does not have that song memorized?! And I never dedicated that song to someone... but i've just really always liked it. Yes, mostly because it's a heartbreak song.

My next fave song is MGA PRANING, which I think is a really scary, really realistic, really sad song. And I think it's the coolest of all his songs.

But I guess KALEIDOSCOPE WORLD will always be thought by the collective as his ultimate legacy to the music world.

*~*

I think, the best thing that could be said of Francis M. is that he was a family man. He has always seemed to be a loving husband and father. Their closeness has always come across as genuine... and i've always adored him for enjoying fatherhood. His kids were truly blessed and I really hope they will make their late father proud by living happy, purposeful lives.

I swear I saw a puff of smoke last night in our room. It billowed right in front of our fluorescent night lamp and then it was gone. Weird thing was we didn't smell anything burning but was worried for a while anyway.

Then after returning to bed from peeing, I suddenly remembered vividly that call my brother made to me in the very early hours of December 27, 2006... asking me to come because Py was dying. I believe I remembered that time because I was silently cursing my brother for being the deadbeat jerk he is last night, pitying my SIL who cannot get any help from him over their new, highly-sensitive son.

And then I dreamt of Py. I'm confused if hubs and I have four kids in the dream, or we were treating our nieces and nephews as ours. What was distinct was Py, who was like nine or ten years old already in the dream. He had this sort of crew cut hair and he was thin. And he was sad and quiet.

And in the dream I knew he had died already... so I was hugging him, caressing his head and asking him what's wrong. I feared, in the dream, that he's feeling unwell again and would die again.

*~*

Py's brother is turning one year old in twenty days. That's yet another proof of time flying.

I ache for Ice and his parents... Py was such a handsome, gentle, happy boy. He was easy to love. He was easy to care for. And now he's gone. Now here comes Ice who is highly sensitive and very demanding. I know his Mother is bent on doing right by him, even swallowing her pride and independence to do better for him, but her resentment over my brother's treatment of her and the demands put on her by her son can't help but drive her over the edge. Plus, of course, she will forever grieve.

And I do try my best to understand my brother... how traumatized he still must be, which is why he's warmer and more patient to MY son than his. But there's really no excuse to be so irresponsible. And I doubt Py would like it to be used as an excuse by his father to avoid getting attached to his brother.

*~*

Py, was that you? Do you still know how much we love and miss you? Do you know how much we try our best to be the same to Ice? Can you show your parents the way, so Ice will be better cared for and loved?

Both inspiring... and inspired! Happy week ahead, you guys...