MEComposing

Blogging has brought so many interesting, lovable, wise people into my life. Some of them, I already really love because their blogs have been a source of daily inspiration.

One of them has even played a small but very defining part in my lovelife.

And now, I am amazed to be part of a BLOGKADA, composed mostly of people a lot older than I am, who seem as young as I am (or younger even) at heart.

Every (week)day fills me with excitement as I connect with them in SOC ways as we tackle feminity, mortality, decency, apathy and family.

Every day brings with it belly laughs from wacky, doctored photographs to insane hirets.

Every day also brings with it serious topics to really ponder on...

Sometimes, some of us even shed tears as we tackle motherhood and loss, sickness and vivid memories of growing up.

One would think that blogs are already personal... and yet we managed to get more personal.

And it fills me with this warm sense of security that I am accepted and liked for who I am, in the same way that everyone acknowledges each other's similarities and differences... each other's pet peeves and limitations... each other's issues and battles and quirks and idiosyncracies.

And i look forward to more... of them. Come April, the Queen of Pansitan and Mr. Spidey will both be here in the country... and it's sure going to be one great laughfest.

And foodfest.

I cannot wait...

Meanwhile, I hope you have read my Blogkadahan ENTRY.
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and so you weep
for an unborn child
who, in the first place
you did not want
yet, you loved him
and dreamed
dreams for him
in the midst of
all the confusion
and unpreparedness
God must have thought it better
to give you more time
to prepare yourself
for His gift
i believe He loved you
and your child, so much
that He postponed for a while
your meeting
but you, my darling
blamed yourself
for what was unplanned
and your very human reaction
to a thing unknown
and you shed tears
and mourn
for what never was
and never could be
you ache
longing for his little hands
to reach out to yours
yearning for his cries
and laughter
but, things are just
as it should be
the short span of life
that he lived
was all that it took
to bring you God's message
of love...

You, who was scared
and who fretted years ago
can do this
are made for this!
you never needed to question
your capacity to care
and nurture
and give
for...like that unborn child
that haunts you
sometimes
You too were made in His love
You too are on your way to
changing a life...

Parenthood will come soon...

Mec 5-04-2001

*~*

I had intended to blog about something else today...

Then again, i'd like to dedicate the poem I made above to Julian's Mom and my wonderful friend G, who has suffered losses I can never hope to comprehend... and I pray, I may never have to go through.

I originally made the poem for JRA (and we're celebrating our ANNIVERSARY today), who I know will forever love that first child he didn't ever get to know... or hold in his arms.

*~*

Incidentally, it's my Dad's birthday today too... and I love him and I know he loves us, and I can never be thankful enough to have had a man like him for a father.
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IS A LONG TIME... for tears, for sorrows... for lying awake at nights, wondering where you stand with someone... for second-guessing someone if he likes you or not... for disciplining yourself to act like a friend when you know there's more to the friendship than just friendship... for reeling your emotions in whenever they seek to be expressed... for feeling unworthy, or being made to feel unworthy... for texting back and forth more than 30 times each day... for preventing yourself from making plans... for putting your life on hold, breathlessly awaiting a period or an exclamation point... and hating the question mark that is defining your days...

most of all... two years is too long a time to be ashamed that you're in love... mainly because it was "untimely"... which may have been just a euphimism for "unwanted"

two years IS A SHORT TIME... for shared snacks... and late-night conversations.. for dancing cheek-to-cheek to songs that embody your sentiments... for poems exchanged and songs sung together... for movies and concerts and love stories... for playful banters and corny jokes and childish reminiscences... for love to really bloom... for trust to be established... for plans and dreams to be realized...

most of all... two years is too short a time to say that you know a person well... mainly because it's "impossible"... which may also mean that it was being "denied"

*~*

i find it to be both natural and irrational to find sadness in the fact that a former "lover" has found somebody else... or several of them...

and i can't help but find it sadder that i've spent the better part of two years loving and hoping and waiting, when he could have simply said... "Don't take it personally, but I really can't see myself committing to loving you."

at least, i would have been free... perhaps not yet to love someone else... but at least free to understand and explore the possibilities of knowing where i stood

and then to find out now that he's committed to someone else... cannot help but break a heart...

and break my faith...

am sure that girl was special... and i feel no envy nor jealousy

and i'm taking into account that hearts CAN change...

it's just that... the truth would have set me free

*~*

written a very long time ago... i think sadness and pain has eloquence that will always be beautiful... even if it is about sadness and pain and loss and disillusionment...

I was checking my mails when my boss, Len, who's come back from retirement maternity leave turned to me and said... "Kwento ko na sayo... hmmm, si Chino (3rd child, youngest son) kasi me assignment na magre-recite daw sila ng bugtong. Eh si Abbie (2 month old baby) sinusumpong nung isang gabi so nakalimutan ko na yung assignment ni Chino. Kagabi nagkwento na lang sya na sya daw yung last tinawag..."

LEN: Eh anong ginawa mo?

CHINO: Eh di gumawa na lang ako ng bugtong!

LEN: Anong bugtong mo?

CHINO: marami...!!!

Isang Prinsepe, nakatago sa baso (tubig)

Isang pulang kabayo, nagagalit (apoy)

Akala mo kapatid mo, ikaw naman pala (salamin)

Pag nakatalikod, babae. pag nakaharap, lalake (Intsik na lalaking mahaba ang buhok)

LEN: (dismayed) Eh... anong sabi ni teacher?

CHINO: Wala.. pina-recite lang kami tas dapat hulaan ng classmates namin.

LEN: Eh... meron bang nakahula ng bugtong mo?

CHINO: Wala!!! Yung mga classmates ko nga, pare-pareho mga bugtong eh... ako lang walang kapareho!

(Chino is in Grade 1)

*~*

My bro brought Pyro his first squeaking pair of sandals last night. And the tot couldn't be denied walking and stomping and jumping about, filled with glee that every step produces noise.

He greeted my sister by calling her name... "Grace"

We ask him who my Mom is... he answers "Carmen"

We ask him who my Dad is... he answer "Lolo Indo" (and yes, he can pronounce the words as is)

We ask him who I am... he answers Tita. He can't pronounce my name and nicknames. But he can pronounce SEXY :)

He calls his Tita Tin... unfortunately... Ti-Ti :D

And then last night I heard him pre-empt the telenovela's theme song by singing... "Diba....ahhhh... ahhh" (diba, ako'y tao lang na nadadarang....)

*~*

Happy birthday Jay-jay. May you find GLORIA all kinds of weonderful too. Ahihi...

When he goes over his Bible book and sees this picture of an angel... he starts chanting... Ha-luyah, ha-luyah.

He calls JRA Ni-nong, Dodo

He greets my cousin Tin... Tita Ek Ek? (Tin's bf is named Eric)

He hums, sings that "Shine, shine... shampoo commercial with a jingle sang by Regine.

He now has a concept of moo-moo and ipis, things he's scared of.

He says Bok-bok and immediately puts out his tongue and starts panting. (Bokbok is my Dad's dog)

He calls our neighbor Andy, Dugong

He now claims ownership... Aken!!!

He now can support himself by saying Engeeee... or pabi-le

When he passes by any of Jollibee's pictures, no matter how small, he goes Ja-bi. And when he sees this yellow arch, he says, Mak-Do.

He can identify fish... and prefers paksiw na tulingan. He says hus for horses, and calls carabaos kaw-bao.

All hotdog-shaped pillows are unan.

He even has this song with words going like, ang buhay, pabili, sabi, sabi, pabili.

He already reports kagat... even lies about it now, when he's asking for attention...

And i've forgotten all the other words that he's been saying and attached meanings to.

And he's just really so darn talkative now... and you can see from his expression how absorbed he is when making kwento to you...

We can even ask him to throw garbage now... and we can ask him to share food... and finally, he's easier to coax into drinking milk now...

And he still generally sleeps thru the night...

Sniff, and he's really fast growing up now, I can't stop myself from hugging him tight sometimes...

(and of course, to say that his verbal capacity is way above than what can be normally expected from a one-year and eight-month old child will be very much an understatement... and yes, am one proud AUNT)

*~*

I shall miss my students.

I finally found your IDs, the ones you gave me when we were first going out, almost 5 years ago...

100 lbs. and up to 11 years ago, you look really cute. You're still cute and very beautiful now... for there is that chinky-eyed, mischievous grin still, and your face has stayed the same...

The one I was destined to love.

I just hope... we can start really communicating though.

I just hope, you'd be the last person to even think bad things about me... or the last person to make me feel this way.

Some 20 years ago, a phone call during supper heralded the bad news that my Mother was hit by some car.

Some 15 years before pagers and cell phones, we didn't know where and how to contact her... all we could do was wait... worry... and pray.

And then, after two hours or so... who really knows for how long, time either stood still or we all were placed in a vacuum where it doesn't exist... knocks on our door announced the fact that my Mom was somewhere near our then BLISS apartment in Taguig... actually, she was sprawled in the sidewalk, near the waiting shed for jeepneys...

I was still very much a child... my older cousins living with us, teenagers... We all rushed to where Mom was and I didn't know what to make of the situation... the sight of her lying on the sidewalk, supported by all these strangers... blood all over her legs...

Again, I was still very much a child then. My cousin, with the help of the strangers, brought my Mom to the house.

Weird that I can't remember her being brought to the doctor... or being confined.

I also don't remember her bedridden for days... or hobbling about with a cane...

I'm wondering now if my memory blocked those days... although I highly doubt it.

Weirder still that my Mom was supposedly hit somewhere in Cubao, and yet she managed to come home to us in Bicutan, unable to walk as she was that night.

*~*

This is the memory that forever haunts me whenever I see really old men and women travelling on their own.

Offering an arm to help them board jeepneys, or to sit, or to fill up an information form... I do very much automatically...

Mornings would often find me with someone old in the same jeep am riding... bound for PGH for check-ups or whatever... Sometimes, accompanied by their child, or their granchild, or a younger sibling, or their spouse. Sometimes not.

And in the times when they're alone, I can't help but wonder where their progeny are...

And I can't help but utter a silent wish that I hope, when my parents grow old and start going about all crooked and wrinkled... alone... some strangers would take it upon themselves to be kind... and offer them a hand.

*~*

It may be self-serving that I actually go out of my way to be kind to old people, as a karmic investment for others to be kind to my folks. Not that we shouldn't be kind to people in general...

It's just sad how, from what i've observed, kind strangers are becoming an endangered species... and I fear for my parents because despite their imperfections, they really haven't done anything to deserve rudeness from strangers.

Everybody now seems just too preoccupied with their deadlines and worries and concerns... most people are just masungit...