Waiting for Winter...

Words

2011-10-20T21:49:00.000-07:00

Words

There are so many things I wish to tell you

But my mouth just refuses to form the words

The mere thought of speech mutes my tongue

The pen and paper had become my friends

As I try to express my thoughts in every stroke

But it will never be enough

For there may be a thousand words

And though I try to weave them together

Into complex tapestries of letters and stories

None can truly, completely reveal

What the voice of my heart want to speak.

For they are merely words.

~October 2011, Friday

Pasig City

Long Letter Part 1 - Winds of Change

2010-09-07T04:40:00.000-07:00

The winds of change has arrived.

Dear Father,

I know it has been a while since I last wrote to you. A lot of things have happened. Life has not been a walk in the park, and I’ve been trying to keep up with its fast pace. Inevitable change happened. The good things ended and the unpredictable new beginnings started. All the while learning something new and becoming a much better person than what I was before.

One of the major changes that happened was work. Because of Mama’s illness, I was forced to leave work to start taking care of her. I was jobless for 7 months, the worst lull in my career life so far. We lived off only on the little that I make out of my Internet sideline. It was a hard and trying time, not just for me but also for Mama. The illness was quite unbearable at times. And it was hard for me to see her like that, unable to pay for her medication, check-ups and medical tests. Being financially crippled had been a major blow to us and this condition left us pretty much helpless in our every day struggles. If not for the help of our relatives, I wouldn’t know how we could have survived through those 7 months by ourselves.

By the time that the 6^th month of unemployment was rolling in, I was pretty much at crossroads. I was tired of going from one interview to another, not finding a job that fits my career background, and being a useless house bum under the eye of my relatives (and perhaps, even in the eyes of my friends). I was feeling quite hopeless at that time. So hopeless that I decided that maybe a change in my career path would be fitting for me. And when the opportunity of going back to school was offered by one of my close aunts, I grabbed it. Then comes the question of what second course to take, and where. Not all colleges and universities allow the taking of second course. Most of them, especially the prestigious ones, require that you take a Masteral of your original course first before allowing you to take another course. In my case, this would mean additional years to complete my Masteral in Business Administration before getting the course that I want (which would approximately take 2 years to complete). If I wanted to take the second course alone, then the number of schools that can accept me can be counted in my fingers. And it also depends on what course I plan to take as well.

Initially, my aunt suggested that I take an IT course, seeing that this course is what is in demand right now. But after thinking things over, I thought that maybe taking the “in-demand” course is not right for me. First and foremost, I don’t have a penchant for numbers, and IT, specifically one that majors in Programming, is mainly about numbers. Also, I do not wish to take on another course that would make me feel frustrated for the lost time and effort because I am not doing what I wanted.

This became my second major decision: to take up Psychology as my second course. It wouldn’t be too far from my original course because BA and Psych are related to each other (i.e. Human Resource Manager). And, I have always been interested in Psychology as a subject. It fascinates me how the human mind works. How it reacts to a situation. Another reason stemmed from the fact that people find it easy to communicate with me and relay to me their problems. Along with my personal desire to help others realize their own potential and inspire them to reach their dreams, I bravely stood up for this decision.

But not everyone is too happy with it. My other aunt rejected it. She refused to support this dream of mine, without even giving me a chance to explain my point. I had always known that she is a close-minded person. And that no amount of convincing would make her sway from her decision. She believed that Psychology is a useless course to take. That unlike other courses, it is something that barely has any demand, that it is never financially rewarding, and that HR managers are the first ones to get fired once a company starts failing. Though these may be true, I would not have minded them. I would have defended myself by telling her that Psychology is in-demand in countries outside the Philippines, and that I am never after the financial reward. I am a person who does not care about money or power. I find it more fulfilling if I get to help others and see them successful in whatever they do… Something that could not be comprehended easily in this financially run world we have nowadays.

Perhaps you yourself do not understand why. Having gone through a financial crisis, it is normal for people to look for something that is financially rewarding to avoid being in that state again. But why do I choose to take the untrodden path? Sometimes, I wonder that myself. But I guess, my way of thinking definitely deviates the norm. I think in a way that others do not understand.

I had known beforehand that I would not be understood. That I would not be given a chance to defend myself. But what really struck a chord when we were talking to her was when she started talking about the other opportunities that I should take. Opportunities that had been given to me before, but I did not take them because I kept on following the will of others. Had I been given more freedom to choose for myself… Had they had encouraged me to go follow my dreams… To decide on my own when those opportunities had come knocking… I cried, Father. Cried, because of regret. Cried while thinking about who is to blame. It’s not just the fault of those who had controlled my life. But I also blame myself for letting them and not asserting myself.

After that event though, I was determined to change things. I continued to pursue Psychology even if it was against that aunt’s will. I found a school that allowed me to take it up as a second course and was successfully enrolled. All along, I thought that this would finally be the start of my new career in Psychology. That I would be finally pursuing something that I have wanted. But I was wrong. It seemed that God had other plans in store for me…

To be continued...

On Your Shoulders

2009-07-06T22:29:00.000-07:00

Dear Father,

I found this poem stashed away in one of my old folders. I think this was what I was supposed to post last Father's Day but forgot all about it.

I hope you like it.

On Your Shoulders

You came into the door
I reach out to you
You pick me up from the crib
And held me high on your view

Then I pointed to the picture
Hanging on the wall
Without a word
You put me on your shoulders

On your shoulders, I feel like I can do anything
On your shoulders, I know nothing would happen
Not with you there guarding me
On your shoulders, I am free

Your hands held mine
As you shook and trembled
Pretending there is an earthquake
I got scared
And held tight onto your hair
You yelled and the tremors stop
I laughed.

On your shoulders, I feel like a giant
That I could reach anything
And see everything
On your shoulders, I am secure
When will I feel that same feeling again?

Twenty one years later
Here I am
Standing below the picture
That I could barely see then

In that picture, you were smiling
In that picture, you were happy
In that picture, I was sitting on your shoulders
In that picture, I laughed.

I wonder what happened
Where had all that laughter gone?
Why is it that when I sat on your shoulders,
It was the first and last one?
Was it my fault that you had to leave?
Or was it all your decision to do so?
Father, father, I wish I could turn the time around
And sit on your shoulders once more.

Respectfully yours,

Your daughter.

Happy Father's Day!

2009-06-22T20:02:00.000-07:00

I know its a bit late. But...

A Dad's Poem

2009-04-22T02:57:00.000-07:00

Do you know when a grown man is handsomest? For me its when he carries his child on his shoulders and is not afraid to tell the world that he is a father.

Dear Father,

While browsing through some old email, I found this wonderful poem. I guess I've read it before and ended up forgetting all about it. But let me take this opportunity to share this to all who would want to read.

Disclaimer: This was sent to me through a chain email. I cannot exactly point out who the real author of the poem is, but I would be willing to credit anyone who would come forward declaring ownership.

Here's the message attached to the mail:

"A beautiful poem written by a Father to save his Daughter. Do read it once... I am sure u also won't be left untouched by the words and the feelings that they depict. The last stanza, after reading from the beginning, suddenly slows down the heart-beats."

TO MY CHILD

Just for this morning, I am going to smile when I see your face and laugh when I feel like crying.

Just for this morning, I will let you choose what you want to wear, and smile and say how perfect it is.

Just for this morning, I am going to step over the laundry and pick you up and take you to the park to play.

Just for this morning, I will leave the dishes in the sink, and let you teach me how to put that puzzle of yours together.

Just for this afternoon, I will unplug the telephone and keep the computer off, and sit with you in the backyard and blow bubbles.
Just for this afternoon, I will not yell once, not even a tiny grumble when you scream and whine for the ice cream truck, and I will buy you one if he comes by.

Just for this afternoon, I won't worry about what you are going to be when you grow up, or second guess every decision I have made where you are concerned.

Just for this afternoon, I will let you help me bake cookies, and I won't stand over you trying to fix them.

Just for this afternoon, I will take us to McDonald's and buy us both a Happy Meal so you can have both toys.

Just for this evening, I will hold you in my arms and tell you a story about how you were born and how much I love you.

Just for this evening, I will let you splash in the tub and not get angry.

Just for this evening, I will let you stay up late while we sit on the porch and count all the stars.

Just for this evening, I will snugglebeside you for hours, and miss my favourite TV shows. Just for this evening when I run myfinger through your hair as you pray, I will simply be grateful that God has given me the greatest gift ever given.

I will think about the mothers and fathers who are searching for their missing children, the mothers and fathers who are visiting their children's graves instead of their bedrooms.
The mothers and fathers who are in hospital rooms watching their children suffer senselessly and screaming inside that little body

And when I kiss you goodnight I will hold you a little tighter, a little longer.

It is then, that I will thank God for you, and ask him for nothing,

except one more day...

Jerusha Meets Jervis

2009-03-25T00:37:00.001-07:00

Because we held hands...

Dear Father,

I wish to ask you again. How did you court my mother back then?

Whenever I ask her, she would just go on ranting and tell me that she doesn’t exactly know how the two of you ended up together. I guess she’s still angry at you after all these years. So that’s why I am asking the same question to you, hoping to get an answer.

But I guess you won’t be able to answer it either.

Why do I want to know, you ask?

Well, the truth is, Father, someone finally decided to court your little girl.

Sounds impossible right? It’s been months and I still think that all of this could just be a dream. But it feels nice, Father. For once, someone finally noticed me.

It’s been around 4 months (around a week before Christmas) when I first met him through a common friend. It turns out that he studied in the same university, under the same building, and joined the same school organization (This is a conspiracy. I could feel it.). We, together with my friend and her boyfriend, went to the mall to attend a convention and buy some anime stuff there.

Physically, he was about 2-5 inches taller than me, a bit dark skinned, and has a bigger-than-average body built. (A far cry from my college crush whom I fell for a couple of years back.) He was a really funny and energetic guy, and he kept striking up a conversation with me all night. It felt strange, for me to feel suddenly at ease with a guy whom I just met. And that I enjoyed the whole evening because I was with him.

I really didn’t want to jump into conclusions, like I did before. So I tried not to think too much about him and focused on the activities Christmas had in store for me. It worked, for that moment, but when the New Year arrived, I found myself thinking about him again.

Why am I like this to someone I had just met? I kept asking myself. Nobody answered, of course. But I bet that God was grinning down on me during those days.

Days passed and I went on with life. With my permission, our friend gave him my Yahoo Messenger ID so we could chat online. We began to talk of anime and of Aura Perpetua, which he had started to read after clicking the link on my YM status message.

And the next thing I know, he’s inviting me for a date on Valentines’ Day.

I tried to keep my composure as I typed back my acceptance to his invitation. In my mind, I was dancing in delight. Finally! Finally! Finally! Someone is asking me out for a date! I thought. It was something I’ve always dreamed of doing during Valentines’ Day, and now, because of him, it was coming true.

It was fun while it lasted, Father. I enjoyed three firsts that day. My first ever Valentines’ Day date and my first time to try Ice Skating. We were both novices to Ice Skating and had fun trying to keep our balance and our sanity…

And it was also the first time somebody sang a song dedicated to me.

I really enjoyed that day, Father. It also gave us a chance to know more of each other and find out that we have a lot of things in common. Conversations were endless. And when it was time to go home, he volunteered to accompany me, even if it would mean that he would have to ride an equal distance back.

And since then, we have been keeping our conversation lines open between us.

Well, Father. I guess by now you have guessed that I’m beginning to like this guy.

Truth is…

Yeah. I really like him.

But I haven’t told him that yet. Even if he already told me that he loves me about a hundred times now.

Because I wanted to be really sure, of him, and of my feelings for him.

I don’t want to make the same mistake I did before.

And I don’t want to end up making the same mistake that you and my mother did.

So I guess… those are my reasons why I’m making him wait.

But I hope… I dearly wish… that he would wait.

Because…

It would be all worth it.

…

I really wish I could see your reaction to this letter right now. If you were like the father in the movies, this would be the point where you would go ballistic and prevent me from seeing him and all that drama.

Actually, I wish that you could meet him as well.

Someday, Father. I know. God will make a way. You will get to meet this person who promised to make my life happy.

Sincerely yours,
Your daughter who has already grown up.

Please Hear What I Am Not Saying

2009-03-20T23:53:00.000-07:00

Shh... Listen to what I have to say first.

Please Hear What I'm Not Saying

Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear
for I wear a mask, a thousand masks,
masks that I'm afraid to take off,
and none of them is me.

Pretending is an art that's second nature with me,
but don't be fooled,
for God's sake don't be fooled.
I give you the impression that I'm secure,
that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well
as without,
that confidence is my name and coolness my game
that the water's calm and I'm in command
and that I need no one,
but don't believe me.
My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask,
ever-varying and ever-concealing.
Beneath lies no complacence.
Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness.
But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed.
That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind,
a nonchalant sophisticated facade,
to help me pretend,
to shield me from the glance that knows.

But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope,
and I know it.
That is, if it's followed by acceptance,
if it's followed by love.
It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself,
from my own self-built prison walls,
from the barriers I so painstakingly erect.
It's the only thing that will assure me
of what I can't assure myself,
that I'm really worth something.
But I don't tell you this. I don't dare to, I'm afraid to.
I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance,
will not be followed by love.
I'm afraid you'll think less of me,
that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me.
I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing
and that you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game, my desperate pretending game,
with a facade of assurance without
and a trembling child within.
So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks,
and my life becomes a front.
I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that's really nothing,
and nothing of what's everything,
of what's crying within me.
So when I'm going through my routine
do not be fooled by what I'm saying.
Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying,
what I'd like to be able to say,
what for survival I need to say,
but what I can't say.

I don't like hiding.
I don't like playing superficial phony games.
I want to stop playing them.
I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me
but you've got to help me.
You've got to hold out your hand
even when that's the last thing I seem to want.
Only you can wipe away from my eyes
the blank stare of the breathing dead.
Only you can call me into aliveness.
Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging,
each time you try to understand because you really care,
my heart begins to grow wings--
very small wings,
very feeble wings,
but wings!

With your power to touch me into feeling
you can breathe life into me.
I want you to know that.
I want you to know how important you are to me,
how you can be a creator--an honest-to-God creator--
of the person that is me
if you choose to.
You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble,
you alone can remove my mask,
you alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic,
from my lonely prison,
if you choose to.
Please choose to.

Do not pass me by.
It will not be easy for you.
A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.
The nearer you approach to me
the blinder I may strike back.
It's irrational, but despite what the books say about man
often I am irrational.
fight against the very thing I cry out for.
But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls
and in this lies my hope.
Please try to beat down those walls
with firm hands but with gentle hands
for a child is very sensitive.

Who am I, you may wonder?
I am someone you know very well.
For I am every man you meet
and I am every woman you meet.

Written Charles C. Finn on September 1966

** credits to Ms. Euri from Tainted Soul and to Poetry by Charles Finn where this poem was taken from.

Dedicated to the people, friends, and family who had always been there to try to pull me out of the darkness I succumb into. And to that one person who promised to always hold my hand...

These are that things that I am not saying. Thank you for always being there to listen.

Silence

2009-02-14T00:54:00.000-08:00

The Quiet World

In an effort to get people to look
into each other's eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it in to my ear
Without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.
Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn't respond,
I know she's used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

- Jeffrey McDaniel

***

It's just amazing how much faith and trust can go a long way.

Happy Valentines' Day, Father.

***

"You say it best when you say nothing at all..." ~ When You Say Nothing At All by Alison Krauss

Aura Perpetua

2009-01-15T21:15:00.000-08:00

Credits to Tala-chan for the wonderful banner.

Dear Father,

My muse had returned, and I decided to write again. This time around, I'm posting it in the Internet for all to see, and critique as well. I'm not a very good writer, and my English grammar is poor, but I try to make up for it along the way. I hope you appreciate it as well.

If you have a little spare time, please drop by my blog-novel: Aura Perpetua and let me know what you think. It would be a really big thing for me too, to know if you like it or not.

Yours truly,
Jerusha Abbott.

Prisoner of Time

2009-01-05T19:22:00.000-08:00

What would you to if you can travel through time?

Dear Father,

The Holidays had been a happy and busy event. Mama and I spent a lot of time together and just enjoyed the one and a half week break I got from work. It felt really nice because this time around, I was the one who was giving, and that the money I used to give was from my hard work. We were able to enjoy a great Noche Buena composed of a Roast Chicken Meal c/o Kenny Rogers' Roasters, some hot chicken soup prepared by Mama, Buko Salad c/o yours truly, some fresh fruits, and of course, Christmas Ham. It made me extra happy to finally have ham on the table again.

There were lots of food, most of which came from my Aunt and her family. So much that we were still eating the leftovers even after Christmas and New Year. There were also visits from my two male cousins (both of whom have their own families), and a lot of noise from my naughty nieces and nephews. We also made house visits to several of Mama's friends and gave them gifts. It feels really good to be the one giving the gifts. I only got a few gifts in return, and Mama was able to come up with a card for me this Christmas. It felt kinda nostalgic, since I've been giving her greeting cards as gifts for years now. But I love it anyway.

I checked my mailbox every now and then, but it seemed that you forgot to send a card this year again.

Though things had been pretty busy and messy this past weeks, I still managed to find time to curl up with a good book and float away into wonderland. A good friend of mine lent me her book (the one our team gave her for Christmas) entitled "The Time Traveler's Wife" by Audrey Niffenegger. Basically, its about a man named Henry deTamble who suffers from Chrono-Displacement Disorder, enabling him to travel through time, either past or future. In the middle of all the complex situations this disorder had lead him, he manages to meet his wife, Claire, when she was still 6. Claire moves through time normally, and ends up looking forward to Henry's visits, knowing more and more about him in the process. The book is about the unfolding of their life together in their strange mixed up chronology while Henry tries to find a cure for his disorder.

The book was well written that you'd just believe that a man like Henry would suddenly pop in out of nowhere and introduce himself as a time-traveler. But the best part for me was around the end of the book. Henry goes forward in time and meets his daughter, Alba, for the first time (at the present time, Alba wasn't born yet.) He found out that Alba was a Chrono-Displaced Person like him and could travel back and forth in time. Alba was delighted to meet her father, but before he could spend some time with her, Henry was pulled back to the present time.

Later on in the story, Alba and Henry would meet in the past and spend some time together. So in a way, even if the present Henry had passed away, he was able to see his daughter and watch her grow.

The Time-Traveler's Wife is a really sweet love story. It made me think about what I would do if I could go back in time, but not really change it. What about you, Father? If you were given the same gift/curse that Henry has, what would you change? Would you go back to the past and change everything? Or would you visit the future and see how much I have grown?

I guess I'd never know.

Your daughter, in her 21-year old self.

Old Friends

2008-12-19T00:43:00.000-08:00

Missing my old friends.

Dear Father,

Today, I stumbled upon a name of an old college classmate during a conversation at lunch. I thought so hard of her name and finally succeeded in giving the name to her face. I remembered what our trainor here in the office taught us. That we can try to look for the name of people using Google. So that is what I did.

First I Googled "Adeliza Alonzo", that charming soprano girl from college. There were many search results, but none about the person I know of. I was about to close the browser when another name came to mind. What about those guys back in elementary?

I can only remember a few of them, as I considered my life back then as Hell. Those that I managed to remain in my memory are those who were pretty significant.

First I searched my "bestfriend" back at Grade 3, Ms. Viracell O. Luansing. Who would have thought this cute Chinese girl would turn out to be a UP Los Banos Scholar with an average GPA of 1.63. Wow! She definitely rocks! I bet she doesn't remember me anymore, but hey, I give her a salute for managing to even get in to UP. I failed at their entrance exams and will forever be banned from entering their gates.

Next, I searched for a dear friend back at Grade 4. His name is Mr. Andrian Benavidez. He's probably the first guy I ever got close with, but not that close enough. He was an interesting kid with adorable pink cheeks. The only person I've ever seen probably in my whole life with naturally rosy cheeks. He was a pretty chubby person back then too. And very very friendly. He tried to get real close with me and even exchange little letters occasionally. Sadly though, I never appreciated everything that much, and back then, my heart was closed to everything else. I lost contact with him when I transferred schools, but I have really fond memories of being with him. I still keep the angel he gave me as a gift, and I still remember his birthday... October 24, 1986.

I stopped writing to him out of embarrassment. I was younger and thought like a child. He was more mature and may want a more private life. So that ended my communications with him altogether.

I searched his name in Google and got the second surprise for the day.

Andrian Benavidez went to Jose Rizal University for college and became part of the male cheering squad there. He looks so far from the Andrian I knew, so I was only sure it was him because his address located him in Pasig City. He is still the friendly guy I know, and had managed to shed off a great amount of weight too. He had lost his rosy cheeks though. But he is still smiles a lot, and that is great. I still hope I could meet him someday. I bet he'd notice a great difference with the little girl he once knew.

Finally, I searched for our Grade 3 class vice president, Mr. Timothy Nabong. He was a thin looking kid with fairly large eyes and ears (in my eyes that is). He was once my seatmate and I admired his mad drawing skillz. He was really smart too. I had a secret crush with him back then.

Lo and behold, the kid had turned into a fine man. He was (or perhaps still is) a part of a religious band called SONs Youth Band, writing music (and maybe singing them as well). He was very active in a religious sense, even writing a column called "Looking Up" which is a reflection of a student's life with God. He looks different in his picture too, grown bigger muscles than when I last saw him. He'd probably scold me about my faith if I ever meet him again.

I tried to search for others, but it seemed that the Internet holds little to no info about them. Maybe one day I could try to search for more of my elementary classmates and see what they've been up to.

Sincerely,
Jerusha

P.S. By the way, if you are curious, I tried to look your name up as well. As of today, Google finds nothing under your name.

Where has Santa gone?

2008-12-15T23:22:00.000-08:00

Thinking about you during this season of happiness.

Dear Father,

It's December once again, and Christmas is lurking just around the corner. This used to be a pretty lonely holiday for me. There were the small presents. There were a few friends. There was plenty of food on the table. But still there is something missing all these past Christmases.

And that something was you.

Years ago, your absence was very much noticed. I would decorate the Christmas tree all by myself. Figure out how to get the star on the top. Ask my cousin's help with the electrical stuff. Come up with the best Christmas cards or gifts I can create. Cook something special for the Noche Buena and eat it with the family. That was how Christmas would go for me. It was monotonous, with nothing special happening. I always waited though. Always hoped. That one day Santa would answer my long time wish to finally spend a Christmas with you.

I once had the courage to come up with a Christmas list during my childhood years. It composed of the latest Barbie that was the latest model back then, gift wrapped and delivered right at my doorstep. I ended up forgetting about it. I tore it up and threw it away when I discovered it again and was told that the reason Santa can't go here is because we don't have any chimneys.

When I entered highschool, our 3rd year teacher gave us star-shaped slips of yellow cardboard to write all our wishes for Christmas. All the stars will then be placed at our door to form a Christmas tree out of it. Guess what I wished for?

That there would be peace in the world and that all families would be together this Christmas.

I had grown past the age of making gift lists for Santa. Now, I'm making a list for the people around me. The pain of your absence was lessened by the presence of my family and friends. Christmases today were much happier than it was before.

But still, I can't resist thinking about you. You are still my father no matter what. And however short was the span of time that the two of us spent together, you can't erase the fact that you still have some place in this small broken heart of mine.

I still think of you even today. Where in the world could he be staying right now? Is there snow in that country? I wish he would send some chocolates. Even melted snow would be nice. I'd just keep it frozen. What is his health condition? Is he sick? I hope he isn't. And if he is, I hope he gets well soon. How about gifts? Will he be receiving any? What would he like if he were here?

I think it will be a very very long time before all these questions and many more are answered. But I can wait as long as God permits me to stay in this mortal realm. I just want you to know that I miss you very much.

And Papa... Merry Christmas... wherever you are in the world.

Sincerely yours,
Urban Witch

The One Thing that Made Me Cry

2008-11-28T16:59:00.000-08:00

"If I Am"

So your standing on a ledge,
It looks like you might fall.
So far down,
Or maybe you were thinking about jumping.
Now you could have it all,
If you learned a little patience!
For though I cannot fly,
I'm not content to crawl!...
So give me a little credit,
Have in me a little faith!
I want to be with you forever,
If tomorrow's not too late!...

And it's always too late when you've got nothing
So you say!...
But you should never let the sun set on tomorrow,
Before the sun rises today...

IF I AM!
Another waste of everything you dreamed of,
I will let you down...
IF I AM!
Only here to watch you as you suffer,
I will let you down...

So your walking on the edge,
And you wait your turn to fall.
But you're so far gone,
That you don't see the hands upheld to catch you.
And you could find the fault,
In the heart that you've been handed!
For though you cannot fly,
You're not content to crawl!...

And it's always too late when you've got nothing
So you say!...
But you should never let the sun set on tomorrow,
Before the sun rises...

IF I AM!
Another waste of everything you hoped for,
I will let you down...
IF I AM!
Only here to watch you as you suffer,
I will let you down...

So you're standing on a ledge,
It looks like you might fall...

IF I AM!
Another waste of everything you dreamed of,
I will let you down...
IF I AM!
Only here to watch you as you suffer,
I will let you down...

The answers we find,
Are never what we had in mind.
So we make it up as we go along...
You don't talk of dreams
I won't mention tomorrow.
And we won't make those promises that we can't keep...
I will never leave you!
I will not let you down!
I will never leave you!
I will not let you down!

Dear Father,

Earlier this morning, I was reading through the comments in my blog, and I was quite happy to see that several people had liked what I have written. I read back on some of my entries and for some reason, I found myself amused at how I narrated stuff about my life.

The song above popped in my head right after reading my birthday entry last year. It's "If I Am" by Nine Days. I must admit, I'm not a fan of the band, and I stumbled upon the acoustic version of their song while listening to my cousin's MP3 collection. I loved it at the first moment I heard it, and had memorized its lyrics in no time. I could listen to this song over and over in my head and never get tired of it. But since the MP3 is stowed away in my home PC, I was not able to hear that song again for months now.

Looking at the lyrics now made me realize why it felt special to me. It is related to me and my relationships not just with other people but myself as well. Sometimes, I just give up on myself, in the limitations and imperfections that I have. I would not take criticisms lightly and would find myself always at fault.

But things had changed.

Now that I had let go of the need to impress other people, I feel more free to be myself and express myself in the style that I want. I realize just how much criticism can help you grow, if given at the right moment and with the right voice. I know that I should never judge, and take time to analyze everything before making a decision.

I had learned a lot.

But as I said, the song also covers my relationships with other people. Other people, which includes you.

Back at 2002, during our 4th Year Recollection Seminar held at Antipolo, our class did a series of soul-searching activities together with another class. In Recollection Seminars like this, it was as if it's really expected of you to cry at one point or another. But all throughout, I found nothing worth crying about. Maybe because I was bored out of my wits half the time.

But during the final leg of the seminar, just before the concluding mass, we had a speaker come to the altar and relate his past. I could not remember his name. It was Jamie or James or Jessie or something. But I seriously can remember his story.

The one thing that made me cry.

He, like me, once hated his father. His father had not left him, but was brutal with him. His punishments were unbearable. So the speaker decided to leave them and build his own life when he was old enough. He got a stable job and a family as well. He had left his past behind.

He would occasionally receive calls and texts from his siblings and mother. But never from his father. He felt that his father didn't care. His hatred for him grew. He cursed his father and his existence.

But one day, he received a call from his sister. Their father wanted to see him.

Still bitter, he hesitates, but ends up going home. And he saw his father for the first time in years.

He had aged drastically. The powerful arms that used to whip him are not as strong as they were. He sat in a wheelchair. His strong character was still there, and yet, in his eyes, his father is finally powerless and weak.

For a moment there, pride set in.

His father asked for his forgiveness. He refused to give in. He still hated him.

Days passed. His father would continually ask for him. Ask to go out with him. To spend time with him. At first he refused. Until finally, he realized that he could not go on hating forever. He gave in.

It was the happiest one week of his life. They went to the mall together. Played chess. Did a lot of guy stuff together. It seemed to go on forever. But then again, nothing lasts forever.

His father had a heart attack. As he was being rushed to the hospital, his father searched for him. He held out his hand, and his father gripped it tightly even inside the ambulance. When they are going to the ER, they found it impossible to loosen the father's grip on his son's hand. They had to let him inside the ER, and the Speaker watched the final moments of his old man's life.

He found it hard to believe, but he cried for him after that.

He cried, for the regret. For all the things they failed to do together. For not being able to be there when his father needed him.

For not being able to forgive him.

And suddenly, I found myself crying. Admitting to the people I do not care much about that I lived most of my life searching for my own father. Never having felt what it was like to be loved by a man. To my surprise, there were several other students like me in the crowd, including my bestfriend and one of my close friends.

Did you know why I cried, father?

I realized that hating you entirely will lead to nothing. And I also felt great regret for not being able to enjoy a lot of stuff together with you. I want that one day with you. I want to know what it's like to be loved by a father.

I want to know, most of all, if you ever loved me and Mama.

Father, if you are reading this, I do hope that you come home. I miss you in a way that cannot be measured by human limits. If I ever shun you, or shout at you or reject you, please don't turn away. Give me time and don't give up. You are still my father, and I am still your daughter. I still have a space for you in my heart, no matter how small it would seem to be.

Sincerely yours,
UrbanWitch

If the shoe fits, I'll take it!

2008-03-16T16:59:00.002-07:00

Why is it this hard to find the perfect shoe?!

Dear Father,

Ever had problems with your shoe?

I have a personal wish list about the things I plan to buy the moment I have money for it. Among these things was a new pair of sneakers.

So last Saturday, I took off to the nearby mall to buy myself a new pair, since I just received half my salary for the month. There were a lot of them, and I ended up liking 3 pairs. And since they were on sale, I could actually buy two of them. That caught me in a really good mood.

Two of the three pairs that I liked have pink trimmings on them. (Yes, no matter how much I deny it, I always loved pink and still do.)While the third one was canvas colored with a cool pattern and glitters. Cheerfully, I approached the saleslady and asked for my size: 8. She scooted off with my chosen sneakers while I go on browsing over the expensive pairs.

After a few minutes she returned, with a sad sad report...

SALESLADY: "Ma'am, we've ran out of bigger sizes."
ME: (points to the sneakers)"All of them?"
SALESLADY: (nods) "But we still have this one in other colors..." (shows me a pair of size 8 sneakers in silver and black)
ME: (looks at each disappointedly) "Would you have one in my size by next week? I can wait."
SALESLADY: (begins an explanation that points out that it just is impossible to get the sneakers I like by next week.)

Yes, I was a bit of desperate, coz I do need the sneakers badly. The one I'm currently wearing is getting really worn out. And I would have worn the sneakers real proud, because the money came from my own hard work.

I remember you once sent me a package containing clothes and a pair of pink sneakers. I liked those sneakers, except for one thing. They were two times bigger than my feet. I actually wore them one time, and my cousins teased me for looking like Ronald McDonald with the really big shoes. It was really embarrassing, and I ended up giving up the shoes to one of my cousins because it fits her.

I don't know what happened to those sneakers. I don't know if she used it or not. I don't even see it in their house anymore. Even if I do claim it back, I know it wouldn't fit me anymore, because my feet have swelled to a freakin size 8.

After the Holy Week, I would once again embark on my quest to search for a pair of sneakers. Hopefully, this time, I wouldn't be so unlucky.

Walking Home

2008-03-12T17:23:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm not exactly as enthusiastic as this when going to school.

Dear Father,

I really can't believe how a little Will can go a long way...

Yesterday, there was a major jeepney strike and almost all the jeepneys in the Metro had decided to take the day-off. As jeepneys were the major mode of transportation for Filipinos nowadays, the strike had literally affected a lot of people, most of which were the local commuters. And among the irate crowd was me. It was during these times when I wish that Mama would let me ride a bike to work, since it my new workplace was close enough to home. But being a girl and all, plus the fact that the streets aren't made for bikes (unlike Marikina and other places), no amount of reason would persuade her to do so.

Anyway, that morning, I got to get a ride to work, since the strike was bound to start later during the day. I got to work, forgot everything about the strike and did whatever work I have to do. I only remembered about the strike later in the afternoon, when I was about to go home and couldn't get a single jeepney to stop for me because all of them were filled to the brim. By that I meant that the passengers were sitting like sardines inside while outside there is at least one person who was hanging by the estribo. Frankly, I would not be surprised to see a jeepney with passengers even at the roof, but that only happens in the province...

After 5 minutes of seemingly hopeless waiting, I made a firm decision to walk home. As if I was hit by Reborn's Dying Bullet, I determinedly told myself: "I will walk home as if I were to die!" (Yes, I do sound like I had read too much manga once more.) So I did.

Before starting my 1 kilometer walk, I stopped by a barbeque grill stand and ordered two sticks of isaw for a light snack. As soon as I paid for them, I began my walk while enjoying my first stick of isaw. I caught quite a bit of attention walking there like one would in a park, munching the barbeque like it was the most delicious food on earth, and enjoying whatever scenery the urban environment can offer. I can truly say, yesterday's red orange sunset was just beautiful, but I bet only a few people noticed it.

Anyway, I did enjoy the long and tiring walk. I finally got to eat at that BBQ stall that I wouldn't have done if I chose to take a ride. I finally saw the boutique with the blue gown I once coveted (after closer inspection, realized it wasn't as beautiful as I thought.) I got to feed a stray kitten. Got the attention of a lot of onlookers. And proved to myself that I can do anything I put my mind into.

I got home at around 6 pm. Tired but quite happy.

Farewell to my Daddy-Long-Legs

2008-02-25T20:48:00.000-08:00

It has almost been 5 months since the first butterfly took off, and now, a second butterfly took off and followed the first...

Dear Daddy,

"Daddy-Long-legs" has been my favorite story ever since I watched the animated series aired on local channels. I've read the e-book and plan on purchasing a second hand copy of the book, plus it's sequel "Dear Enemy".

Why am I so fascinated with this book? Because there are just times that I feel Judy and me are one. How?

We were both abandoned. Jerusha by her parents, me by you.
We both prefer being called by our nicknames.
We are both bibliophiles.
We are both suddenly exposed to an unknown society.
We have the same number of close friends. (And same personalities too.)
We both had had hand me downs. (And hated them)
We like to splurge ourselves with every opportunity.
Both of us had a sponsor that took care of the tuition fees.

Unlike Judy, I knew who my "Daddy-Long-Legs" was. In fact, I knew her name, where she lives, and why she sponsored my studies. That's why when the news of her sudden passing reached us, I just had to cry.

"Tita Elsa" was a prominent person. She is known for her charitable works and donations to numerous churches and seminaries throughout the Philippines. She had also paid visit to the late Pope John Paul II and the recent Pope Benedict XVI, gaining a commemorative certificate from both. When she is not absorbed in her Spiritual duties, she enjoys herself doing a little ikebana, watching Wowowee by noon, or eating any food that suits her fancy. She was not diagnosed for any ailment, save her gout problem that runs in the family. That was why it was indeed a great shock for us when we called to check on her only to receive news that she had passed away.

I just came home from work around 6:30p.m last Saturday, February 23. Mama appeared from the bedroom with a confused look. On her phone was a missed call from Tita Elsa. Thinking that maybe something had happened, she quickly called her house to check up on her. To our surprise, the nurse informed us that Tita had just passed away. Mama was filled with disbelief, and was quite hysterical as the conversation went on.

She died in the hospital, suffering bone cancer. She had been confined for two weeks, enjoying the prayers of her friends from the ministry while undergoing the medications. But last Saturday, she took God's firm grip as another attack came to her, and she did not let go of God's hands. Like Nanay, she passed away with a painful death.

She was embalmed at the same place where Nanay was embalmed, and taking the trip back there had the painful memories flashing back at me. I once again saw my old self, in my canvas jacket, crying in the rain, upon realization that Nanay had gone and will never come back again. I went back to the washroom, and could "hear" myself crying. Even if it had been 5 months ago and a lot has changed, it seems that time went back to that dreadful night once more.

A lot of changes had been done to the place. The administration office had transferred, and there's now a flower shop and a sari-sari store at the ground floor. There had been awfully a lot of people now, and a lot of dead ones. Maybe God had began to pick the wheat from the grass already.

We met up with Tita's son, and Mama cried her heart out to him. He related to us Tita's pains, and how her death was a relief, since she wouldn't have to bear the pain anymore. Her body was still being embalmed, so we went to the room and waited for the arrival of her casket. Once it was put in place, Mama was caught once more in a crying fit. I couldn't help but cry myself, since she was the humblest rich person that I know of, as she had considered us as a part of their family, even if we were just her step-relatives.

We had her last mass, courtesy of her priest scholars, where an eulogy was given by the priest himself about Tita's generosity. It dawned to me then that she wasn't just putting me to school, but hundreds more, and most of them were the ones who had their hearts set to God.

"She had been preparing for this day all her life." the priest said. Indeed. Looking back, you can see that she had been fully prepared when God took her. Plain, simple and beautiful like an ikebana. She had been so devoted to God, I believe that she is in the "Fast Lane" to Heaven right now.

For all her love and care, I thank her. And I will never ever forget her.

Respectfully yours,
Jerusha Abbott

Mood Swings

2008-02-23T00:21:00.000-08:00

Mood: Blank

A lot had occurred since the last post, half of which aren't that great.

Currently I'm in the office knocking myself out with the internet and all... Well, obviously, I am knocked out. I've been sitting in front of this friggin monitor for about 10 hours now! (Wouldn't complain if it had games and all... bwtf?)

Anyway, since the last post, I had been shifting moods from Depression, Desperation, Fatigue, Anger, then quickly into Happiness, Excitement, Determination and Hyperactivity...

Now it's back to depression again.

Anyway, it's just another mood swings I'm getting in that'll sure to pass after I get my hands on another online game.

New Year.. New Life... Hiatus?!

2008-01-25T20:38:00.000-08:00

Eheheheheh... Ooopps?

It's the year 2008, and since almost everything in my life is in hiatus at the moment, so will this blog. With the things I've learned in last Saturday's "Internet Marketing Bootcamp", (all my gratitude to my neechan and the people of US Auto Parts Phils.), I was enlightened that if I really want this site to be what I dream of it, I would have to take more time and effort reconstructing the site and all. And so, I have decided to close the site temporarily for its much needed renovations.

It will be up and back maybe by February this year (I'm not promising anything though.)

As for now, please enjoy my very first movie, and this little snippet I picked up while roaming around the net. It was written in my native tongue, so I made a rough translation of everything else in English for the majority of you who will read this. To enjoy the raw text, follow the link on the title. :)

26. Walang Tawiran (No Crossing)

(Rough translation of "Walang Tawiran")

*on picture: "That's because you're always on a hurry. Aren't we supposed to do this together?"

X: Then why did you ask me to wait?
Y: I thought that there are things that doesn't have to be told. As Wittgenstein said-
X: I've heard about that.
Y: And why is it that our names are still X and Y? We're like the Cartesian Plane. That's why we never meet. Because I hate Math.
X: Let it go. See, we finally met. But I have to go now.
Y: You can't cross there. Use the overpass instead.
X: I can't believe you're super concerned about me. As if you'd cry if I die.
So X crossed the street, got hit by a vehicle, became a model for the "No Crossing. Deadly.**" promo that was used in the campaign of BF. While Y on the other hand--
Y: If you only waited for me...
X (as a soul): It's not that easy.
Y: Is it easier to die?
X: Sometimes.

**I have a real hard time trying to translate "Nakamamatay". For a visual of the road sign, see the above picture.

~~~

My first movie based on true events of my life. Its really blurry coz I only used a cellphone cam with low specs. Still, I hope you enjoy it. If you can't see the movie, just follow the link below and leave a comment.

Maalala Mo Sana by Silent Sanctuary

P.S. I'd be glad to take free blogging lessons from anyone who' d volunteer out there. Leave your tips via comment and I'd be glad to link back to your site if I use your tips to improve mine.

Thank you.

20 and yet...

2007-10-26T00:57:00.000-07:00

Please let me and cake have our moment... Mmm...

Hey Papa! Do you remember what day is it today? Today's my 20th birthday! Yay! I've finally come of age!

I'm both happy and excited this day had come. My first official day of becoming an adult (finally!). Now I can truly prove myself to the world! And since it's my birthday, I'd stop addressing you as Father just this once. :)

Why am I so happy and excited anyway? What's with being 20 that is fun and exciting? Frankly, there's the maturity issue. And there's the fact about handling more responsibilities than ever before. So what's there to be happy about?

Well, my dear Papa, here are my reasons:

1. When you've lived half your life taking medicine tablets and capsules in your system like candy, wouldn't you appreciate another year of living? Some might think I'm crazy speaking like this. (Well, I am crazy. Half my brain does a million somersaults while the other half monitors everything else.) But when you look back all the years of near death, you'd realize just how lucky one can be to be given another chance to live.

2. Alright, so another year means another 360-days of hardship, pain, and sorrow. Surprise! That's not the only thing in life! There are a lot of good things to look forward to with another year. Like the reunion concert of your favorite band or next year's anime convention. Or reuniting with a friend. Or finding your soulmate. And for dreams, well, here's another year of dreaming or making it real, it's your choice. It had been a good number of years of good and bad experiences, of beautiful and horrible memories,and of appreciation and regret. And here you are, starting a new page again.

3. And when is it that you feel much appreciated (or lonely for the lack of it)? Isn't it on the very day that you were born? Okay, so there's Christmas and Valentines, and all the other holidays, but if you think about it, the reason why birthdays are celebrated in the first place because the people around you appreciate your coming into their lives. If you weren't born, then who would love them the way only you could do? Somebody else, probably. But it will never turn out the same way if you weren't there. You don't celebrate that during Christmas or Valentines Day, do you?

4. It isn't everyday you get a day dedicated to you (and hundreds others celebrating their birthdays around the world.)

5. People are extra nice to you during birthdays. They treat you lunches, do you favors, give you stuff for free... And your popularity just goes off the roof on your birthday.

Well, of course, my 5 reasons isn't applicable to everyone else. There are others who hate their birthday. Others treat it just like any other normal day. And others who lost the point of celebrating birthdays at all. But I think, one should, at least celebrate one's date of birth in whatever way they can. With or without family and friends. After all, birthdays only come once a year. And not everyone gets to survive another birthday.

I will then use this space to thank everyone who shared the past 19 years with me:
1. God - of course, for giving me another year to live.
2. You - for helping me come into this world.
3. Mama - for loving me for the horrible monster that I am for 19 years now.
4. Nanay - who continues to look after me, even in Heaven. Hi Nanay!
5. Uncle - for being himself and trying his best to make us all happy. And for bringing me to and from school when I was small.
6.My close relatives (Mama's side) - for being there and supporting us all the way.
7. My not-so-close relatives (Your side) - for helping us to remain steadfast (even if they were never on our side).
8. My bestfriend, Aki - for the friendship, for her patience, and for everything else (including your gift: "Remembrance" by Jude Deveraux)
9. My close friends (Paula, Kat, Erik, Joy, Joan, Nark, Jay) - for listening to all the mumbojumbo I've been telling them. I miss you guys!
10. My friends (plus all the rest of 4BA5 class 2007) - for taking the time and interest of knowing me and introducing yourself to me. (And for letting me copy from time to time. :D) *sniff* I miss you too...
11. My classmates (from Nursery to College) - for breaking my crayons, borrowing my pens, asking for some paper, taking my answers (Deny and you will be punished!), and thanking God that I was there. (No hard feelings here, guys!)
12. My teachers and professors - for taking care of me in school, for making me do things I wouldn't like doing (like Math for example), for trying to appreciate me and the things I do (like my artworks), for trying to get into my head (but never succeeded! hah!), and for making my life hell with quizzes, homeworks, projects and failing grades. Of course, I appreciate all these things now. (But I'm still not taking the curses off some of you! )
13. The head mistress of our school (Nursery & Kinder) - for giving me awards and recognizing my potential (genius).
14. The principal (Grade 1 to 3) - for taking my side against those students whom I thought bullied me. (Now I'm regretting of accusing them.)
15. The school administration (Grade 4 to 6) - for giving me considerations during this chaotic phase of my life. For giving me countless opportunities trying to make my life as normal as other children. For protecting me against the teasing of other classmates and for teaching me to be responsible.
16. Vincent - for calling me names and making my 3 years in your school hell. And for letting everyone in our batch call me names. (I still hold a bit of a grudge, you know.)
17. The ever-famous and semi-omnipotent directress of our school and their staff (high school) - for letting me into your school, for teaching me to abide by the rules, and for teaching me to never let my guard down (because you are watching). Also for the delicious sweet and sour meatballs, siopao, tacos, nachos, fries, hashbrowns, and squidballs served at the canteen. (Hopefully you still serve them.) And the plastic spoons and forks that always break when you try to use them. Because of that, I learned how to improvise.
18. My neighbors - for not losing their temper and sanity whenever I scream and cry and sing and do crazy stuff, aloud.
19. My crushes and love interests (you know who you are!) - for giving color to my life and teaching me what it was to fall in love.
20. All the strangers I've met in life - the jeepney, bus, tricycle and fx drivers who took me to my destination, the people who were there and assisted in Nanay's funeral, the man who used to sell those mysteriously delicious "burgers", the holduppers who slashed our bags, the people who read and flame my works over the Net, and all the other people who had been part of my life even for a second. For the time you gave and the impression you left on me.

I wonder how many will be added here when I turn 21?

In Memoriam: Nanay

2007-09-28T03:33:00.000-07:00

September 28, 2007

I'm lonely, but never alone...

Father,

My grandmother (not your mother, but the one I fondly call "Nanay"), had passed away last September 18, 2007 at exactly 4:55p.m.She was declared Dead on Arrival at the Mary Immaculate Hospital and the autopsy conducted at Loyola Memorial Chapels revealed she had diedof a cardiac arrest. The autopsy doctor explained that almost all her veins had gone brittle due to senasence and half of them had exploded,causing the huge bruises on her arms and legs. The medication given to her at the Medical City after she suffered a mild stroke 7 days beforeher passing, remained trapped in her stomach, as well as the water we gave to hydrate her, because her veins had already failed to work. A rupturedvital vein in the head area had put an end to all her suffering, and she is now wandering the Earth for 10 days now. And though it sounds unbelievable,she had lived a healthy dose of 96 years of life, a term some people call "double life".

The 4-day wake was conducted at Arlington East Memorial Chapel,and it was attended by all the people who loved Nanay and also those who love the people she had left. She was cremated back at Loyola (because they were the only ones with the facility to do so), last Sunday, September 23, 2007, at 1:00pm.Her remains are now kept in a white marble urn that is currently staying in our house, but after the 9 days of consecutive prayer, she will be laid in an ossuary here at the Sta. Clara de Montefalco Cathedral on October 1, at around 3:00 p.m.

I wrote this to remember her, to relieve the emotions I had bottled up inside, and to tell you that you don't have any reason to be afraid to come back home anymore.Even at the wake, her guiding presence was eminent, as she had made way to unite the broken family that her husband left her. I don't doubt she'll do the same for ours,seeing that she now practically knows the existence of this blog and its purpose. But to do such would need much of your cooperation...

If you ever see a black butterfly, or smell the scent of orchids from nowhere, remember Nanay, and remember the home where you once lived as my father.

Urban Witch

Angel Project

2007-06-30T23:59:00.000-07:00

My inspiration is taking flight!

Artemis had shot me another inspiration, Father. And now, I am currently working on another project. This one is called "Angel Project" and angels will be the central theme of the stories. Currently, I had finished the first story, and I am almost done with the second story. I don't know how long this will last, but I will take advantage of it and finish maybe 2 more.

Once I got done with this draft, I "might" move on and make them into one-shot comics and sell them at the next anime convention... I really wish I'd get this one finished. It would be a real waste if I won't be able to.

I want to be a mangaka, father. And I'm going to prove to the world that I could become one.

Hazy Moons and Twin Stars

2007-06-21T23:59:00.000-07:00

6:21:07

Just like my happiness that night, you felt so near... yet remained so far...

Last Sunday evening, I had a long chat with him, father. You know who I am talking about. Him. The guy I really liked. I got his phone number a long time ago and I had been calling him from time to time ever since.

It’s been about 1 month since I last spoke to him, and since last week, something had constantly nudged me to get the phone and call him. I did what instinct told me to do, and called him.

After the casual “Hello’s” and “How are you’s?”, the topic kept revolving on my work and his quest for his perfect job. He still hasn’t got one, after all these months. He’s applied to every company he is fascinated with, and almost all of them gave a negative reply. He still doesn’t have a job, and he isn’t expecting any either, so he’s back to his job search once more.

He did not talk of anything else but work, work, work.

It really bored me, father. Especially since I’m interested in what he’s been doing besides looking for a job. I kept on steering the conversation away from it, but it seems that it was the only thing he could talk about.

Yesterday, though, I had another strange experience.

It was a hazy half moon last night, and my emotions were as hazy as the moon. All throughout the day, it bothered me that it was already June 21. it felt that I forgot to do something, or that I missed someone’s birthday. And all the while my thoughts would end up back to one person. Him.

When I looked up to the moon, I thought of him, and it makes me wonder if he ever thought of me the same way. He knows how fascinated I am with the moon and the stars, and I had shared hundreds of starry nights with him. I was the one who told him the story of the Three Kings, a.k.a Orion’s Belt, about the Ursa Minor, the easiest constellation to spot. We both spotted what I named were “Twin Stars”, since they were two stars placed so close together, there is barely a space between the two of them. (Nowadays I don’t see Twin Stars anymore.)

My heart skips a beat as I mesmerize at the half moon, thinking back to the starry nights we shared and the moonlit paths we walked on. It seems that though I vowed to forget and finally get over him, it will be as hard as taking the stars from the sky.

Happy Father's Day

2007-06-17T23:59:00.001-07:00

06:17:07

You brought the ramen... right?

The whole world is celebrating it, and the mass media is just filled with the holiday's spirit. But there was one commercial in particular that moved me, and brought up a lot of questions and hidden desires about having a father.

It was Unilab's recent Bioflu commercial. In that commercial, and old man with a large build came in the room where a young man lay crumpled under his blanket, perspiring heavily. He came over to the young man's side and asked, "Anak,Kamusta na lagnat mo?" (translates as: "Son, How's your fever?"). "Mataas pa rin po, Pa, At ang sakit pa ng katawan ko." (My temperature's still high, and my body is starting to ache.") "Heto, mag-Bioflu ka." (Here, take some Bioflu). The father hands the medicine and watches his son take it. Then, he lay beside him on the bed and tucked him in, gently patting him on his butt and humming a low lullaby to make him fall asleep. The following scene continues the humming, but only the father is still asleep in the bed. His son had already worn his uniform and is preparing himself to go to work.

The commercial itself was simple, and very timely for Father's Day. (And I'm sure there will be some people who was encouraged to buy the medication in the future.) If I find out how, I will post a copy of the TV commercial here so you will see it.

But what struck me most was the father's care over his sick son.

Father, I have been sick a lot of times before, and I still buy medicines that range from P500-P2000, (sometimes all at the same time) just to get me back up on my feet again. As I grow up, I seldom get sick, but when I do, it's one that is sure to pin me down on my bed for days. Perhaps you know that I have asthma, father. Though I get attacks less and less this year because I was experiencing less stress than when I was still in school, I still have to keep on buying Symbicort and Ventolin from time to time to regulate these attacks. When I was a child, I was inflicted with all sorts of maladies, from fever (psychosomatic or not), to coughs, from sore eyes to jaundice, from allergy to skin asthma, All of this I suffered. All of this I endured. All of this, with only my mother by my side. And I lived long, long enough to create this blog dedicated to letters for you.

Where were you, father, when I was young and gasping for breath, having a near death experience and waking up not knowing that I fell asleep in the first place? Where were you, when I was throwing up everything I ate and could barely keep myself awake? Where were you, father, when I woke up in the middle of the night because I couldn't breathe and I almost had a heart attack? Where were you, father, when I got my teeth pulled out by the dentist because they were too rotten? Where were you, father, when a nerve in my feet got so painful, that I was worried I wouldnt be able to enroll myself? Where were you, father?

Did you know, father, that when I was experiencing all this, I had been wishing that they would bring me to the hospital, or that I end up dead? Because maybe if I died you would come home and be regretful and never leave my side again. I was desperate, father, to know if someone else cared for my existence. It was something that constantly haunts my being everyday.

These were not the only things I used to think about when I was a child.

I used to think about how you spend your FAther's day, all alone and out at sea. I wonder if you keep in your wallet the picture of me during my JS prom in your wallet and show it to all of your friends or look at it whenever you felt lonely? How would you react, father, if you knew that I've been practicing witchcraft and that I believe in destiny and in spirits? Had I had my first boyfriend, would you approve him, or get strict with me until we elope? What's your favorite color? Food? Flower? TV Show? When I had failed on my subjects, would you scold me like mad? what do you look like when your'e angry? if i were to give you a gift, would you keep it or throw it away?

Beyond all that, I keep on thinking if you really loved me and my mother, even for just a moment.

Today, Mama and I went out to the mall and ate stuffed pizzas at Sbarro while sharing a large glass of lemonade. it was a rare moment, to eat at a place we used to pass by before because it was too expensive. but it wasnt new to me that we're sharing the same drink, or the same food. we used to keep on doing that, father, whenever the two of us go out. she would buy a dish meant for a single person, and we would divide it between the two of us. back then, it used to be easy, since I ate and drank little. but now that I have grown up, my appetite grew as well. I could certainly finish off one meal serving, even if it seems that there is enough for two people. but still we buy a single serving, and divide it between us.

It was kinda surprising, actually, for a thought of you to pass my mind. I rarely think about you nowadays, except when people ask about your whereabouts. your name would be rarely mentioned in the house, and when it was, it would only bring back painful memories and Mama would become the fragile little lady that shattered when you left.

But frankly, father, the reason I wrote this, and the reason I set up this blog is not because of the pent up anger I had stored inside of me for years. its because I miss you, and that I wish our family was complete and normal.

Happy Father's Day, Papa.

Back to School

2007-06-07T23:59:00.000-07:00

6:7:07

"Oh right... I don't go to school anymore..."

School once again began just this week and all around the county, kids and parents are flocking in front of schools either waiting to get in or wanting to get out. I used to be part of that crowd, rushing to and fro just to get to school on time and so on. But now, I’m just an innocent bystander, riding the jitney with children and teens who may be their first or nth time wading in the Pool of Education.

College levels don’t start until next week and there are still schools that are still open for enrolment even this late in June. Everyday, on my way to work, the same guy hands me a brochure about the openings for enrolment in the nearby computer school. I took his brochure twice. I was interested in taking up an IT course anyway. Today, I saw him again, and I avoided him this time. It was enough that he wasted his paper and ink twice for me. The brochure he may have given me might be the one for the person who really intends to enroll there soon. Besides, the two brochures he gave me ended up in the trash can.

Frankly, father, I am beginning to miss school.

During my last days as a student, I always had this desire for graduation not to come. I wanted to stay a college student, together with my three friends, and enjoying the life that was paved out for us. But we only have the power to spin the threads of Fate and not to unravel it and turn back Time or stop spinning the thread altogether. It will be spun no matter what, and it will lengthen, until Athropos gets her shears and ends the thread.

Guess what my 5 year plan was? For two years I will get a job and work, work, work until I’m rich (or got enough to support the family). Then, I will go back to school, take a Masters in Business or in Psychology or Digital Art or others. And this will go on until I end up as a housewife with four children and a loving husband. And then work at home as a writer, or digital artist, or online game beta tester (that would be real cool.) or something else. Actually, that is a draft of my five year plan. Anything goes with the future, and whatever it gives to me I just go along with it.

But anyway, that was my 5 year plan, and unless something happens, I will follow through. I will go back to school.

For You

2007-06-06T08:18:00.000-07:00

Never forget.

I wonder what would happen if humans never forgot.

Knowing Grandfather

2007-05-05T23:59:00.000-07:00

5:5:07

Today was my grandfather’s birthday. I never really knew much about him, because he passed away long before I was born, leaving my grandmother and his 9 children. Of one of the nine, I was born. I know you know who I am talking about. You once loved her, right?

Anyway, last night, while watching her chop away the kamias she needed for cooking, she mentioned that today would be grandfather’s birthday. Having known almost nothing about you, I asked her, what was he like? She then explained everything to the best of her memory. She started with our family tree, and I realized just how big and complex our family was, with grandfather standing as a sturdy trunk. I don’t really know, but I guess you and him did have something in common. But unlike you, he did not leave the others for his new family. He considered them as part of a very huge and complex family, and loved and cared for each single offspring equally. I begin to wonder what would have happened if you and him had met.

He was, a very loving father to all his children. Of the three children he had with my grandmother, he cherished my mother most of all. In all occasions, my mother would be most welcomed. When she got kicked out of the company her step sister owns, because of what you did to her, that relative got angry at her. She had thought that she was sabotaging the company, based on what her co-employees had told her. But grandfather found a way, and reconciled them. I bet you now know how I managed to finish school without your help or the help of your very generous offerings. It was that same relative that I offer my college diploma to, not to you. Up to now she still looks after all of us, but we don’t take advantage of this favor in anyway. It was her who said that I looked like grandfather, and I earned her favor more.

I wish I could have met my grandfather. He seems to be a fun-loving old man full of surprises. Maybe if I had I wouldn’t be longing to find someone like him for a father.

Final Commencement

2007-03-26T23:59:00.000-07:00

3:26:07

It’s been 10 years since I last saw you, and if you’ve been counting right, you know that this would be the month when I would celebrate my final commencement.

Yes, father. I had finally graduated college. Impossible as it would seem, with all the things we had to go through just to get me through school. But I had made it, father. No doubt about it. I had graduated with barely anything from you. And today was the day that marked that end.

I always dreamed of this day above all things, and it was much more magical than what I had expected. I went to the graduation hall clothed in a dress made out of my grandmother’s cloth and sewn by a generous neighbor (she gave me a discount on the labor expenses because I was graduating). You should have seen it. I chose the design myself. It was brown, dappled with huge beige flowers. It had a low collar that was cut just a few inches below the collar bone, and two semi-puffed sleeves that hang just below the shoulders. It was tied by a gold ribbon around my waist, and the rest of the dress flows freely and is cut just about a few inches above my knees. It wasn’t my dream dress, but it was just fine. I threw in a pair of white high heeled shoes and my aunt lent me her (imitation) pearl necklace and earrings just for the occasion.

We drove ourselves in a rented company van, along with the other real estate agents of the company where my mother and aunt worked. And as we drove, I thought of you, and of the dreams I had about this day. I had dreamed that you would be among one of the millions of parents, friends and relatives flooding the graduation hall. But with your graduation ticket in my hand, it would be more likely that you would never be there. And if you were there, then you must be attending your other daughter’s graduation. Isn’t it funny if I found out that we both went to the same university and graduated the same courses at the same date?

I want you to know and remember that I have become a realist the day you went away and never showed up in our doorstep ever again. I had come to believe that dreams remain dreams, and unless it was stated in your destiny, that dream is more likely not to come true. So I never did keep my hopes up, father. But still, I wished you were there to see me as I walked the aisle and climbed the stairs towards the stage, as the school rector took my tassel, moved it to the other side and shook my hands while saying ‘Congratulations”, as I stopped and smiled with my two chipped front teeth for the picture that proves I had graduated, as I walked back to my seat while stopping by some professors congratulating all of us personally, all with the Graduation Hymn playing in the background over and over like a worn out CD. You should have seen me, father, in my black graduation gown and cap adorned with a gold hood as I heaved a proud sigh and thinking that it had been done.

I finally graduated.

It was, among few that were documented here, one of the happiest experiences I ever had. It would have been really great if I graduated with honors, but even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’d still remain the average grader that I am because achievements only pressure me to keep up with the standards.

Keeping up to be a perfect daughter was hard enough. So why add more?

Happy as the occasion was, I was also feeling down and lonely. It was the first time I made real friends without anyone to intervene, and it felt sad having to realize the fact that it was all over. No more petty quarrels of which fast food to eat in. No more laughing out loud like crazy while listening to someone’s mishap. No more seatmates to cheat with *grin*. No more walks going home. No more talks about the unknown. No more name-calling of those professors who looked like in-humane monsters. No more rants about projects and deadlines and exams all on the same date. No more phone calls or YM’s about the same school stuff. No more fun memories. Only sad endings.

They were the three most cherished people I ever had in college. The first guy was my occult master, the second guy was my first real crush and the third girl was my work ethics twin. And it will be a very long time (unless I got struck with amnesia) before I forget each of them.

I didn’t cry when we separated. I’ve grown up accepting that separation is inevitable and I was able to cope with all the separations in my life, including yours. And I never want to make a fuss of turning soft right when I had this reputation of being rock-hearted (a nickname I got from my occult master). But deep inside the disappointment of shattered dreams had been evolving into regret and sorrow.

Graduation not only marked the end of a school year. It also marked the end of friendships, and the end of the cloistered life within the safe four walls of the school/university. It’s like you’ve been used to swimming in a swimming pool and then you find yourself at the shores of the wide, unprecedented ocean called Real Life. Its harsh, untested, and you can get yourself killed if you don’t know how to swim right. But you’d have to find your way through if you’d want to survive.

I’m out in the sea now, father. Watch me swim.

My One True Valentine

2007-02-14T23:59:00.000-08:00

2:14:07

Love is... a hormonal chaos waiting to explode anytime... n_n;

It’s Valentines Day, father. I’m just wondering. How did you and my mother used to spend Valentines when you two were still together? How did you court her when the two of you were still in love?

Tell me, father, what's it like to fall in love?

It seems kinda weird admitting this, but, yes, father… I had been in love.

He was a guy from our class, father. I had mentioned him before. He's the same guy who gave me Shiro, my smiling cat cellphone charm. He was a few inches taller than me, dark skinned, and had a triangle shaped face. He had big eyes, thick eyebrows and a big mouth that barely speaks. He was an otaku, or anime fan, just like me. And I had a serious crush on him.

(I wouldn't mention any names, though, because you might meet him somewhere at a very inconvenient time.)

What I liked about him most was his willingness to listen without arguing back and his tendency to smile in every possible occasion. He doesn't get provoked easily (which I used a lot of times to my advantage) and rarely talks unless spoken to. He seems like a shy guy, but unlike me, Math problems doesn't terrify him. I would often run up to him and ask for help during times of despair. He was also reliable, and though he doesn't talk much, but very friendly and approachable.

He was one of the people who intrigued me most when I first stepped into my new classroom for my third year. He was as he would always be: quiet, sitting by the shadows trying to remain unnoticed. I set myself a challenge to make him talk for the whole year we would be together. I succeeded with only a few attempts (thanks to Naruto). So I then posed a new challenge, to make him angry. It proved itself to be a much harder challenge, and I ended up not getting him angry but instead, becoming his ears to ease his frustrations on. He would share with me his frustrations with school and his group mates whenever we would walk home from school to the jeepney stopwhere he gets his ride home.

It was halfway through the year, as I was starting to know about him more and more during our walks home, that I was beginning to realize that I was starting to fall for him.

It did feel really weird, like what others who had been in and out of love had said. First of all, I have an innate distrust on the male species (thanks to you). Secondly, because I had been in a series of 30 minute crushes all my life (i.e. I see this cute guy, have a sudden crush on him, and when he walks away, that feeling is also gone for good.) But today, when I first spent Valentines day with someone that is dear to me, it felt really magical that I wished that it would be Valentines everyday.

My regular class schedule would start at 11 am and end at around 4:30 pm (or 3pm, depending on the number of subjects for that day). But today, out of some strange reason I still haven't found out, the Morning Classes (7 - 11 am) were suspended, and classes would resume at around 1 in the afternoon. Taking this great opportunity, we both agreed to meet earlier and eat lunch together. We decided to meet at 11 am at one of the stone pavilions erected in front of our building.

I had planned for Valentine's day a long time ago. In the tradition of the Japanese' Tanabata, I planned to make heart-shaped chocolates and give it to everyone, with a very special one cooked just for him. But as the day neared, the money saved for this special day got spent on projects, emergency trips to fast food chains, and other stuff related to school, and I ended up with half the budget to buy all the stuff I would need for the chocolates. So I turned to another alternative and went off to buy a brownie mix instead. It's still chocolate, anyway, and I had cooked it a lot of times before.

I woke up really early (around 6 am) and mixed up a delicious batch of brownies. And even in my dire effort to keep track of time, I ended up running late (again!). I was in a hurry to take the brownies from the oven that I had burned myself near my right wrist. The brownies didn't come out perfectly. One side was able to rise, while the other side didn't, resulting a slope shaped brownie. It was a great disappointment, but it did not discourage me a bit. I cut the brownies in 6 individual slices, and wrapped each one in red cellophane wrapper. I hurriedly shoved each in a paper bag, then quickly ran out of the house and headed for school.

The dreary old university we call school turned on a different aura that was obvious upon arrival on the school grounds. Everyone was everywhere, crowding in front of the college buildings or hanging around the memorable love spots in the school. Of course, almost everyone came in pairs, with either red roses or pink balloons or huge teddy bears. When I came to school, there was so much chaos it was easy to get lost in the sea of people rushing to and fro. I got around them, and went to our meeting place, to find him not there. I saw some of our classmates and I asked if they saw him, since we were to meet there. They said that he had been looking for me too, and when I was about to go looking for him, he came. I don't know if anyone noticed, but I managed to blush a little upon his arrival. I quickly covered it up with a little banter about where he went and that I had been dizzy trying to look for him. He said that he was looking for me too, and we then set off just the two of us for lunch.

Off we went to Lovelites, a small canteen located at Asturias, Dapitan, to get ourselves some lunch. We both bought the same meal: footlong hotdogs with rice and gravy and large C2 Apple (with an extra rice for him). As we waited for our orders, I slipped him my brownies, to which he reacted quite confused, but still he took it. I wanted to see him eat it, but it was enough for me to see that he took it anyway.

We then headed to our still empty classroom and ate our meals there. As we ate, some classmates came in and saw us, then left the room grinning while saying aloud that they will leave us lovebirds alone. (We have a very queer reputation in school that we are made for each other. Something that is quite natural since the two of us were together most of the time.) I tried to scare them off, but they ran away by themselves, leaving the two of us all alone once more.

it was the perfect moment, father, but I guess I myself is a "torpedo", or a scaredy-cat. I would had told him what I felt right then. Still, the time just doesn't feel right. So I just let destiny take a hand, and the rest of the hours passed with the two of us just chatting away. The bell rang, and our classmates began to flood in, and the magical moment was whisked away in the breeze. But even for just a while, I was truly happy. Because I was able to spend my Valentine's day with somebody had learned to love.

How about you, father? How did you spend your day today?