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as i welcome the new year with gratitude for having lived a very good 2008, i carry with me THE list of what i hope to have, what i want to become this year.  don’t get me wrong, i love my life.  i am surrounded by a dotting family; my husband is still very much in love with me after 11 years and my son is one healthy, happy, good looking (ehem) and intelligent little boy!!  we live in our own house, i drive our own car.  yes, this is a good life and i am very thankful for it.

but (if i may borrow Kirsten Dunst’s famous line as Claudia in the movie INTERVIEW WIT THE VAMPIRE),  ”i want some more“!  this life, no matter how good it is, is not enough for me.  and i think, as long as i am alive, i will never cease wanting for more.  this is not because of selfishness, but rather for self-improvement.  if i become a better me, then i can provide a better relationship to my husband and better care for my son.  if i improve myself, then everything in my world improves too. 

thus i came up with THE list.  this will serve as my guide throughout the year, so that when at times i may become a horrid bitch, i can go back to this list and try to turn from my antagonistic self and be a good little girl. 

so here is my list of what i want to be and to have this year.  and if i don’t get to have them at the end of 2009, life still will go on.  the important thing is that during the 365 days of 2009, i tried to improve my self, my life, and in turn, my son’s and yes, even my husband’s.

 

 

THE LIST

1. longer patience
2. less pride
3. sweeter relationship with my husband
4. more passion to know God through the Bible
5. smaller waistline (he he he)
6. discipline for my impulses
7. more showy on how much i love my family (mother, lola, aunts and uncles)
8. to influence at least one family and one friend to accept Jesus Christ as her Saviour
9. ditch my 6-year-old boots (even if it can still be repaired) for a new pair
10. start with my studies (second course)
11. start a small business at home
12. buy a rocking chair, a blender and a tent
13. buy the following books (even if it means scouring all bookstores for these) by my favorite authors:  - MATCH ME IF YOU CAN by susan Elizabeth Phillips; NATURAL BORN CHARMER by Susan Elizabeth Phillips; INHERITANCE CYCLE series 01(ERAGON), 02(ELDEST), 03(BRISINGR) all by Christopher Paolini (these three books must be in hard cover); PETER AND THE STARCATCHERS SERIES by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson (also in hard cover)

there are still so many areas in my life that i want to improve, still many things to add to this list but i just cant remember what.  for now, these thirteen dreams will do.

 

now that i have put to writing my list, i better get on practising them.  i may have a hard time doing these things, but in time, i will get the hang of them.  i just need to keep on trying and to never cease praying (for my self.  hehehe).  so help me God.

I went to san fernando city today to do my last-minute shopping.  crazy of me, i knew i should have done all my gift-buying weeks before christmas, but i postponed it many times.  thus today, i was one of the thousands of shoppers littering the malls, stalls and even the sidewalks, practically jabbing each other in our race to pick out the best (and yet affordable) gift items before someone got them first.  despite the news on economic crisis and of filipinos getting poorer, the scene i witnessed today contradicted these claims.  geez, if you saw the money in the cashiers’ boxes, you’d say, “bah! humbug!” to the news!

i left my son at home since i was expecting the mob of people in every nook and cranny of san fernando and he is much safer with his lolas, even if one is the queen of panick and the other lives within the pages of books (weeheeehee, peace nanay and auntie sally!). 

after making sure i looked okay and not the least presentable among the crowd (i could not forgive myself if i were, and erick would not too, hehehe), i walked out of jollibee (where i ate a simple lunch of burger steak) to the sidewalk with a merry heart.  i actually felt good because i, too, had caught the bug of christmas, and i felt all merry and, well, christmas-sy.   

however, that feeling didn’t stay with me for long.  after a few steps from the doors of the most famous food chain in the philippines, i saw a woman leaning on the wall outside Jollibee.  she was all dirty, looked pale and was coughing really hard.  i think she was in her twenties, but she looked way beyond her age.  but it was not her that caught my attention and took my breath away.  it was the little girl she was holding in her lap.  oh how the sight of that baby broke my heart.  she was a such small thing, crying her heart out, begging for something to be given to her.  i had no idea what she wanted, or why she was crying, but as a mother, i knew that that little girl was in pain.  maybe because she was sick, or she was hungry, or her mother chose a very hot and bright spot to beg.  i saw them and i was at a loss on how to help them except to give money.  “thank you ma’am,” said the mother as she didn’t expect the amount i handed her.  i wanted to tell her to spend the money wisely as it was to be used to buy for things my son needed. but i didn’t because i didn’t think the woman would hear me.  she was there to beg and not to listen to a stranger giving unsolicited opinions.

i thought i had done my part with beggars that time.  i went on with my shopping, hopping from one mall to another, trying to find cheaper items since a part of my budget had been chopped off.

but i was wrong.  this time, it happened outside another Jollibee fast food restaurant!  (is it just me or jollibee?).  and this time, it was a woman with a little boy in her arms.  same scene.  

they were begging by the sidewalk, though the woman looked stronger and much healthier than the first.  what tugged at my heart was how un-cared for was the child.  if i guessed it right, he was just a year old and he was already exposed to begging for money.  when i walked past them, the little boy was playing beside her mother.  was he happy?  he looked like it, i guess.  but happy or not, this boy should not be out in the streets asking for alms.  he should be safely playing in his own home, though how humble it may be.  he should not have wounds in his scalp and dirt all over his body!  he should be wearing briefs or shorts or pajamas, and not sitting on the dirty sidewalk butt-naked! 

 

if my encounter with the woman and her little girl brought out so much pity in me, this second one filled my heart with anger.  how could a mother subject her child to this sorry condition?  she was perfectly healthy and was not missing any limb nor joint, was not blind nor deaf!  she could find work if she wanted to.

but i gave them money just they same.  i couldn’t simply turn my back on the little boy.

farther down the sidewalk, only a few steps away, was a sorrier sight. 

another woman was holding a sleeping infant (one to three months old, i think) in her right hand, while her left held a plastic Jollibee glass that she was using to reach out to the passers by.  again, she was begging. 

the infant in her arm was oblivious to the crowd.  he was sleeping peacefully.  a closer look revealed a dark face and neck, while his arms and legs were of a fairer complexion. 

 it was obvious that the baby, young as he was, had been too much exposed to the different elements of sunlight, wind and pollution.  he was so tiny and sooo fragile he stole my heart.  i wanted to scoop him in my arms and bring him home with me where he could be cared for properly and lovingly.

by this time, i was raging mad at these people who, i think, use babies (maybe their own or maybe not) to get compassion from people; so that in turn, these people would give them money.  maybe i’m wrong to jump to this conclusion, but wrong or not, it is not proper to bring babies when begging, or in doing any work!  it’s not right!  these are little ones who need love, caring, clean and safe environment to grow up to.

for years, this had been the scene during christmas time.  these people/beggars know that the yuletide season brings out money, even from the most frugal filipino.  lets face it, we are loving people who want nothing more than making our loved ones happy.  and lets face it, one way to bring out smiles in our faces is when we receive gifts.  and christmas is the time for gifts.  thus, a lot are taking advantage of our celebration for the birth of Jesus Christ.

i had been seing the same scheme for the past christmases, people begging on the sidewalks while holding babies.  their faces may change, but still the same old trick in the book.

however, this year was different for me.  because i am now a mommy.  i now play the most important (and the happiest, most joyous, most fulfilling) role in life.  i am a mother.  and motherhood has been teaching me a lot of wonderful lessons in life.  when i look at my son, my heart fills with so much love.  when i hold enrickquito in my arms, i feel like i am holding the most precious treasure in the world.  my son has unknowingly filled my heart with love and compassion.

therefore, when during the past years i could easilly turn blind to these people asking for alms, this year, i could not.  because i see these babies, these precious little ones, i see my son.  i look at them and and i remember those times when enrickquito was just a few months old, how needy and dependent he had been and how fragile.  if i will not respond to these people, i will feel like i had abandoned my own baby.  i love my son so much that i cannot anymore ignore his kind - infants, babies, toddlers, little boys and girls. 

im not sure if i did the right thing by giving in to them.  some even say this was a syndicate thing, so i shouldn’t share my money.  i should not tolerate their scheme so that they will be forced to find work, instead of doing the easy way out - begging.  but today, after i shared my blessing to these beggars, i felt, somehow, good. if the money i gave, gave the little ones food for a day, then it did not go to waste.  i helped feed them, i fed my heart, i fed my son.

oh this is not a religious blog. it’s not connected with Noah’s ark.  and it has absolutely no relation to the book of Genesis in the Bible..

 in fact, this is all about my husband leaving and my trip from Manila a few days ago, on what happened just before the bus started for la Union.  this is, in fact, about me and erick and that @#*!#*_!!! bus called Genesis that took 8 hours to travel from Manila to La Union!!! (grrrrrr!)

anyway, i thought i had prepared myself for THE DAY when Erick would kiss me goodbye for another contract to work abroad, aboard another ship.  in fact, when he told me a few weeks ago that his flight would be November 18 or 19, i bravely looked him in the eye and answered, “okay honey!”. 

geez, who was i kidding!  the moment i said those words, tears started welling in my eyes and i had to swallow some good dose of my saliva to keep from crying out loud. 

i knew i had to be strong, I GOT TO be strong for Erick’s sake.  leaving us was already hard enough for him, but leaving his wife crying, err, (okay okay!!  wrong word) wailing like a lunatic would even be harder (and so much more embarrassing!).  if i didn’t want him to go out there with a heavy and distracted heart, i had to compose myself and act like a real lady, graceful and calm.  (sigh)

 

BUT who am i kidding? 

“baket,” erick would often patiently, though smugly, tell me, “am-ammo kan.  pati pasikot-sikot ta bitukam, ammok pay yen.” (wife, i know you well, so much so that even every curve, nook and cranny and zigzag of your intestines, i am already familiar with).

anyway, the trick (i told myself) would be to focus on the positive side.  like not having to worry if our son, enrickquito, who happens to have a bottomless stomach (he sometimes eats more than i do!) will have milk, diaper, fruits, good and nutritious solid foods next month or not.  that should be my focus!  if erick would have work, money wont be a problem anymore.  his son and i would be able to live very comfortably for the next months.  (yesssss!)

but that style didn’t work well.  as the day of erick’s departure loomed closer, i began to tell myself, “i’d choose his presence, no matter how grumpy and hot-tempered he would be, over monetary security.”  thus, i began to sniffle a cry or two again.  to hell with food!  enrickquito isn’t a picky eater, as long as there is sabaw (soup) and rice, our son would happily open his mouth and welcome whatever would be on the spoon.  he even likes saluyot, malunggay and ampalaya (which i detest)!  so food won’t be a problem.  there are so many vegetables growing all over the place.  really, we wont go hungry.

why not try another trick in the book?  ignore the facts!  don’t think about his leaving.  just pretend he would still be with us come NOvember 18 or 19 and the following days after that!  in fact, fool myself into believing he would stay. 

well, i did, um, fool myself.   for 5 minutes!  (ha ha ha!).  the things he would be bringing with him aboard the ship were strewn everywhere our home!  even our one-year old son was aware his daddy would be leaving.  it was THAT obvious!  so no, turning blind eyes and deaf ears to his departure won’t work.

then i thought, “hmmmm, i could focus on the things i hated about my husband.”  yes, that would work.  only, i’d ruin our last remaining days together by detesting him.  and that, i think, would be worse than our separation.  only a total jerk would be that immature!

since there was really no other way to treat erick’s leaving except completely accepting HE WOULD BE LEAVING, i did just that.  and it turned out, it was the best remedy of all.  so what if while washing the dishes, i was crying?  or if i’d happen to glance at erick playing with enrickquito, i’d get teary-eyed?  we still had a good stock of tissues!  i wouldn’t be able to use them all (and if i did, there was still those blessed old notebooks and books and newspapers!  ha ha ha!).  besides, when i get teary-eyed, i could crawl on erick’s lap to let him hold me tight..

“Uh, baket, haan ak maka anges, nagdagsen ka!” (uh, wife, i couldn’t breathe, you weigh a ton!)

anyway, that was how i psyched myself up the previous week. and things got better because they went back to normal after the idea of erick’s departure finally sank in my system.

then came November 18.  a few minutes before i was to go back to La Union and he to the airport, my poise shattered.

 

 

“tang, tang,” came the text message tone alert of my cellphone (which, by the way, irritates my husband like hell!).

“get ready honey, im on my way to the hotel to bring you to the bus terminal.” 

uh-oh, my heart started doing some heavy palpitating because it suddenly felt like the whole hotel came down on it. i tried to ignore the loneliness that had suddenly gripped me.  i should not cry!!! 

when erick entered our room, he pulled me in his arms.  “this is it,” i told myself, ”this is goodbye“.  as our bodies pressed together for the longest (and yet it ended too soon) embrace, his smell flooded my senses. 

“shhhh, dont cry honey,” erick said, “i’ll be back.”

then we were suddenly walking out of the hotel to the bus terminal where that blasted bus was waiting.  while walking, i did not hold his hand nor did not let him hold mine.  maybe to those people we passed by the dirty sidewalks of Pasay City, erick and i looked like strangers to each other.  i was that stubborn because i was that intent not to cry!  if my husband so much as touched my hand, my eyes would become like faulty faucet, unstoppable from leaking!  and to my shame, my mind started focusing on those things that i hated about erick (talk about maturity eh?).  i stooped that low.

 but cheers for erick.  he totally understood, and it was so achingly sweet of him.  “sorry baket for those times i hurt your feelings and made you cry.  forgive me hon“, he whispered as he held me tight inside the bus.  and that did it. 

HELLO FAULTY FAUCET!!  big fat salty tears came pouring out of my eyes, along with the sticky salty gooey thing from my nose.  once i started crying, there was no stopping it. 

“baket, mangibabain ka! (wife, you’re embarrassing!),” joked my husband, as i couldn’t even speak coherrently.  all i could say, err, squeaked was, “honey, honey, honey“.  (it really was embarrassing, and we were inside the bus, with the other passengers looking at us, err, me.)

“i gotta go hon, they are waiting for me at the office.”   erick said.

“please take good care of yourself and of enrickquito.  i love you both so much and i will miss you, it hurts.  bye hon..”

 he kissed me one last time, then he left.  and he left me sobbing like i would inhale the whole bus in my nose!  tsk..

november 18.  yeah, that was the day i flooded Genesis.

hi honeyk,

sorry if my love letter was cut short.  you see, i planned to write a simple letter for you, just the usual mushy, corny love declarations;  but, once i started typing, the words just flowed out of my mind and suddenly, i was walking down memory lane once again, recalling those events that lead me to be THE Mrs. Erick Calica.  before i knew it, the simple love letter had evolved to, um, a book?.  well, sort of.  so i had to continue it the next time i get enough time.  and today, i have the time.  thus, here it is, the PART 2.

 

…WHEN WE CONNECTED…

the day i noticed you was also the same day i fell in-love with you.  when i dared meet your gaze, emotions i never knew i possessed surged up inside me like a storm.  and among those feelings, fear emerged the fastest, the strongest. 

because your eyes said it all.  you let me see your soul honey!  you opened the door to your heart so i could understand.  how desperate could that be?  and how sweet?

“Lahnee..  lahnee..  ad-da ak lang ditoy, agay-ayat kenka.  nagbayag kan nga ur-urayen.  pansinen nak met koma.”  (Lahnee..  lahnee..  im just here, loving you.  for so long, i have waited for you..  please, take notice of me..”)

when i looked at you, i saw more than a man in-love.  i felt your longing, your desperation and your loneliness. 

your eyes told me of the years you spent loving me, secretly, from afar; and, of how much you wanted to speak to me during those times our paths crossed, that if only i would look at you even for a few seconds, then maybe, i’d finally notice there was an Erick Calica in the world.

but neither happened.    you never spoke to me, i never glanced at your direction.  thus, your feelings for me were kept bottled up inside you for more than 10 years, waiting for the right moment to come out.  and on that fated day in June of 1997, on those few seconds our eyes met, you let them all out.  and i became confused.  suddenly, my world was rattled as i became afraid.  because the moment you showed me your soul honey, i started loving you. 

“apay nga kastoy ti maritritnak kenka erick?  apay nga pumardas ti pinagpitik na toy pusok tatta nga kit-kitaek ta matam?  apay nga kasta ti ibagbaga ta matam kenyak?..  apay ngay ngaay-ayaten kan sa met ten?”  (”why do i feel like this towards you erick?  now that i am looking into your eyes, i feel my heart beating faster.  why?  your eyes, they tell me things, why?  am i falling in love with you?”)

the pain you had endured all those years from harboring unrequited love became my pain.  i wanted to heal your wounds.  i wanted you to absorb my love, all the love my heart could give, so that your suffering would stop.

“lahnee, kasla matay toy pusok ta saan ka nga bagi.  awan maka ammo toy panagayat ko kenka, nagbayag kon nga inlimed.  tatta, ammom mon.” (”Lahnee, my heart is dying because you are not mine.  nobody knows i love you.  it has been a secret i have kept for so long..  but now, you know.”)   

suddenly, i wanted to do so many things with you!  i longed to sit down beside you and hold your hand as we catch up on each others’ lives for the past years.  or, we could just plain embrace each other for hours and hours.  how nice it would be to feel your arms around me as your heart beats next to mine, to hear you breath, to feel your warmth.  since i never heard your voice for the last decade, i then ached to hear it,  to let it croon my heart until my own hurts would melt.  oh honey, that time, i was thinking how nice it would be..

“kayat ko ited kenka toy pusok, toy amin amin ko erick.  kayat ko sungbatan ta ayat mo ngamin ay ayaten kan.  kayat ko agbalin nga bagim, tapno agkadwa ta agin-gana inggana.  ngem saan nga mabalin.” (”i want to give you my heart, my all erick.  i want to love you back, because i am already loving you.  i want to be yours, so that we will be together forever…  but it cannot be..”

and with these thoughts, it suddenly dawned on me that i wanted you for the rest of my life!  that if it was not with you whom i would grow old with, then living would mean wasting my life.  when i understood this, i accepted it with much sadness.  because it could never be.  i could never have you.

because someone already owned me.  and as i was loving you that time, he was loving me even more. 

 —  TO BE CONTINUED —

dear honey,

it’s september 21.  it’s our 11th anniversary of being together, in love.

imagine hon, we have been loving (and sometimes hating, hehehe) each other now for the past 4,015 days!!!  geez, has it been that long already?  eleven years?  wasn’t it only yesterday that we fell in love with each other? 

 

 

———— THE SNOB & THE MUTE —————

do you remember the first time we met mahal ko? 

wait, let me rephrase that question hon, because we met in 1981, back when we were still in our grubby shorts and shirts, and our world was still focused on learning our ABCs and 1,2,3s.  who would have thought that that bony boy in my Grades 1 to 6 classes would become my husband, the love of my life?..  no one, not even i, not even you..

but i am getting out of my topic here..  so let me go back to my question again,..

do you remember that one saturday  in june of 1997 when i spoke to you for the first time in more than 10 years?  you see, after we graduated in 1987, i never uttered a single word to you, even if our paths crossed several times in the past.  as the queen of snobs, you simply didn’t exist in my world anymore and you were not worth my time, not even worth my glance. 

and you, my dear husband, never had the courage to speak to me, not a single word, not even a loud sigh to let me know of your presence.  yes, you had been so shy around me (which i think is so cute of you), all you ever did was look,  and those few times you had the guts to do mOre than just look, you silently followed me to my destinations.  but not a word did you say, not a word did i hear. (tsk.)

so for the next 10 years after our elementary graduation, we never spoke to each other.  we went on our separate lives.  i remained the Ice Princess to you and you became Mr. Invisible to me.

but one day, everything changed.   and i mean, EVERYTHING!

 

 

———– SHE MELTED, HE SPOKE ————-

I remember that day.  the sky was very blue, with only a few thin clouds streaking the heavens.  it was a hot June day, the sun was directly above us.  the time was after lunch.  but already, a number of people were milling everywhere.  maybe because they knew our batch was meeting there at 2pm to plan our reunion.  or maybe, they just happened to be walking around the place.  after all, it was in a very public place, at Bagbag Elementary School, our alma mater.

i arrived earlier than you did hon.  i had to, i was the appointed event organizer.  and maybe, it had to happen that way so that the Ice Princess would finally notice Mr. Invisible. 

as i was standing with Lolita and Ronnel at our old alma mater’s Social Hall, waiting for you and the rest of our classmates, you came into my view, riding at the back of a scooter.  and as my eyes followed your entrance to the rusty gates of Bagbag, two words formed in my mind, “Erick” and “gwapo” (handsome).  but i had seen betterlooking men, so it was no big deal at all.  but from that moment on, you became alive in my eyes.

your bike stopped and you climbed down easily.  with your every move, i watched.  it was like a theater presentation, the phantom coming to life.  you ran your fingers thorugh your curly hair, then when you were satisfied you looked okay, you started walking. 

and you walked towards me.

as you came nearer, wearing that shy, boyish smile, i noticed more things about you.  you had grown so tall, almost 6 feet, it was impossible not to see you!  after all those years, your skin color never changed,  still dark as i remembered.  you still had a thin frame, bony at some places, but my god, how you got my attention that day!  there was something so powerful in you that i couldn’t help but be drawn to your presence.  you carried yourself like you owned the world, and that you wanted to own me too.  i liked that.  so much.  you exuded such raw sex appeal that i couldn’t breathe (ha ha ha!) looking at you looking at me, as if you would devour me right then and there! (ha ha ha!).. 

then, you were suddenly beside me, smiling at me, peering at me through your thick lashes.  but of course, you never found your voice. (hay! and i was waiting for you to speak first!!  grrrr.  torpe!).

“Kumusta classmate?”, (how are you classmate?), so i asked.

i thought you had swallowed you tongue hon.  it took a while for you to talk (and did you just blush when you heard my voice?  he he he).  and you said you were okay..

 

 

———- ICE MET FIRE ———–

 at 2 pm, all of us proceeded to our old Grade 1 classroom to begin our meeting.  with only a few weeks before our reunion, we needed to plan and to move fast.

as i was the leader, i was in front facing all of you. 

as you were the silent type, you sat at the back. 

in between us were more or less 20 of our classmates, all so noisy, all so seemed to have become elementary pupils again..  everybody was happy, everybody wanted to tease someone, everybody wanted to talk.  except you, my silent man.  and you were unsmiling.  oh honey, you were soooo serious back then..

you just sat there, oblivious to everyone, as you cast your steely gaze at me.  i, on the other hand, pretended not to notice you.  as the minutes ticked, it was taking me harder to concentrate on what was going on inside the classroom.  instead my attention was becoming more focused on how my insides were reacting towards your stare. (oh my, it was getting hot in there indeed!  hehehe)

so i turned my back to all of you and tackled the blackboard as if aliens suddenly sprung out of it.  and yet, i could not escape your presence.  i felt like your eyes were boring a hole behind my head.  it tingled.  it sizzled.  and i  couldn’t ignore it anymore.  i couldn’t ignore you anymore hon!

so i mustered enough courage and turned around again to face you.  breath per breath, heartbeat after heartbeat, our eyes locked.  as my soul connected with yours, passion exploded and love was born.  a love so intense, it could not be ignored.  fire consumed our hearts, it was so fierce, nothing and no one mattered anymore.   time stopped.  everybody vanished in the air.  inside that room, there was just the two of us, gazing at each other, stripping our hearts with anyone else and baring our souls to each other.   it just took a moment, but it changed me forever.

and i became afraid.

 

—————-  TO BE CONTINUED ————-

this photograph of enrickquito’s small feet next to mine is making me teary-eyed tonigt. 

it was taken in summer of 2008, when my son was still 10 months old.  we were at the beach then and i was teaching him how to walk.  barefoot and squealing, he would hold my hands as he took those awkward steps, one woobly foot in front of the other..

oh, it was one happy memory, something that will keep me warm many many years from now when blankets and thick clothing could not protect my wrinkled body from the cold.

but time will come that his feet will be bigger than mine.  my son will grow up, i will grow old.

however, right now, i am his world, the center of his universe as he follows me everywhere.  and when he could not physically, he does it with his eyes.   "mom-ma", he calls. and for his mom-ma, he gives his sweetest smiles.

right now, he seeks my presence, my warmth, my smell.  only my touch and whispers of love can calm him down during his worst tantrums.

right now, enrickquito needs me as he needs the air to breathe.

but years from now, he will meet people whom he will make new memories with, friends and loved ones whom he will share his thoughts, dreams and life with..  as his world will broaden, my space in his life will get smaller.

time will come that my hands will not be the ones he will want to hold and my voice will be replaced by that of his special someone, that girl who will make his heart flutter when she will call his name.

yes time that time will come.  and let it come.

because right now, i have today.

i have his babyhood. and i have his attention and total dependence. 

i will enjoy my son today, as he takes his unsteady steps and talks alien.  i will continue to love smelling him even with his stinky bottom, his pee-soaked diapers and droolly face.  i will delight in his squeals of happiness, his shrieks of excitement, his deep sighs and mono-syllable words.  i will bask in his smiles, on how his eyes light up whenever i enter his sight. 

yes, things will surely change years from now.  my son will, definitely.  i will, too.  but no matter how small i may become in his world then, i know i will still be a part of his life. 

and when the time will come for me to step aside so another woman can take my place as his world, his very reason to live, i will do it gracefully (so help me god, ha ha ha!).

surely, everything will be different then. 

everything.  except the fact that i am his mother and that i will forever be his mom-ma.

and in connection with this blog and my sentimental mood tonight, i included here this beautiful email (except the picture of my lola elin) sent to me by my cousin (JaCK, who will soon be a father!  yehey!).  many years from now, if enrickquito will happen to forget about us (nyay, hope this will not happen), please, let him read this so he will remember…

"Sulat ni Tatay at Nanay sa Atin"

Mahal kong anak,

Sa aking pagtanda, unawain mo sana ako at pagpasensiyahan. Kapag dala ng kalabuan ng mata ay nakabasag ako ng pinggan o nakatapon ng sabaw sa hapag kainan, huwag mo sana akong kagagalitan. Maramdamin ang isang matanda. Nagse-self-pity ako sa tuwing sinisigawan mo ako.

Kapag mahina na ang tenga ko at hindi ko maintindihan ang sinasabi mo, huwag mo naman sana akong sabihan ng "binge!" paki-ulit nalang ang sinabi mo o pakisulat nalang. Pasensya ka na, anak. Matanda na talaga ako.

Kapag mahina na ang tuhod ko, pagtiyagaan mo sana akong tulungang tumayo, katulad ng pag-aalalay ko sa iyo noong nag-aaral ka pa lamang lumakad.

Pagpasensyahan mo sana ako kung ako man ay nagiging makulit at paulit-ulit na parang sirang plaka. Basta pakinggan mo nalang ako.  Huwag mo sana akong pagtatawanan o pagsasawaang pakinggan.

Natatandaan mo anak noong bata ka pa? Kapag gusto mo ng lobo, paulit-ulit mo ‘yong sasabihin, maghapon kang mangungulit hangga’t hindi mo nakukuha ang gusto mo. Pinagtyagaan ko ang kakulitan mo.

Pagpasensyahan mo na rin sana ang aking amoy. Amoy matanda, amoy lupa. Huwag mo sana akong piliting maligo. Mahina na ang katawan ko. Madaling magkasakit kapag nalamigan, huwag mo sana akong pandirihan.

Natatandaan mo noong bata ka pa? Pinagtyagaan kitang habulin sa ilalim ng kama kapag ayaw mong maligo?

Pagpasensyahan mo sana kung madalas, ako’y masungit, Dala na marahil ito ng katandaan. Pagtanda mo, maiintindihan mo rin.

Kapag may konti kang panahon, magkwentuhan naman tayo, kahit sandali lang. Inip na ako sa bahay, maghapong nag-iisa. Walang kausap.

Alam kong busy ka sa trabaho, subalit nais kong malaman mo na sabik na sabik Na akong makakwentuhan ka, kahit alam kong hindi ka interesado sa mga kwento ko.

Natatandaan mo anak, noong bata ka pa? Pinagtyagaan kong pakinggan at intindihin ang pautal-utal mong kwento tungkol sa iyong teddy bear.

At kapag dumating ang sandali na ako’y magkakasakit at maratay sa banig ng karamdaman, huwag mo sana akong pagsawaang alagaan.

Pagpasensyahan mo na sana kung ako man ay maihi o madumi sa higaan.  Pagtyagaan mo sana akong alagaan sa mga huling sandali ng aking buhay.  Tutal hindi na naman ako magtatagal.

Kapag dumating ang sandali ng aking pagpanaw, hawakan mo sana ang aking kamay at bigyan mo ako ng lakas ng loob na harapin ang kamatayan.

At huwag kang mag-alala, kapag kaharap ko na ang Diyos na lumikha, ibubulong ko sa kanya na pagpalain ka sana …. Dahil naging mapagmahal ka sa iyong ama’t ina…

Written by Rev. Fr. Ariel F. Robles
CWL Spiritual Director
St. Augustine Parish
Baliuag, Bulacan

the accident happened past 4pm on april 16, yet it took me 8 hours to compose the text  message to my husband, Erick, informing him of the misfortune that befell our son.

i remember, it was close to midnight then.  outside, a few stars dotted the sky and everything was peaceful.  the world, my world, was enveloped with silence as our neighbors and even their dogs were, probably, all in deep slumber then.

but within me, there was still no peace.  aside from my worries on the accident’s effect to my son, i was also very concerned on how erick would react to the news i was about to text him.

i had already postponed too long, i couldn’t anymore find any reason to delay what was inevitable.  my husband had to know..  but i asked myself, "am i ready to face erick’s anger?"

after a few minutes and a couple of deep breaths, i texted the words that told of the accident concerning Enrickquito. as casually as i could, i explained to him what had happened.

my cellphone rang immediately.

it registered no caller number, but i knew it was my husband calling.  i could feel the tension from him, though he was oceans away.

"Hello?", i said.

"Adda load mo? (do you have load?)".  it was indeed him.  and he sounded so serious, so grim.

"Adda hon. (i have, hon)", i answered.

"Tawagan nak. (call me.)". click.  he hung up.

Right away, i dialed his number.  Erick was on-duty, yet he answered right away, "anya nangyari jay anak ko? (what happened to my son?)". 

there was no mistaking of the anger in his voice.  i could feel his suppressed emotions.  he was holding it all in.  and he was having a hard time doing it.

so i told him what happened.  after my simple explanation, i added weakly, " ngem aksidente met, honey. (but it was an accident, honey.)"

his anger exploded.  "aksidente nga?! (accident?!)" 

then, there was silence. 

when he spoke next, i heard fear, worry and pain in his voice, "kasatno nu mas malala ti nangyari ta anak ko? (what if something worse had happened to my son?!")

then my husband cried.  he broke down with quiet sobs that were filled with anguish.  it pained me so much to hear him cry like that.  and it hurt me more that he was facing this alone, in a strange land, and with strangers for company. 

i knew right then he wanted to run home and be with his son, to hold him in his arms and make sure his balong was safe.

being away from us was hard enough for him.  leaving enrickquito when he was still 5 months old and having him grow up without his daddy by his side was harder.

never mind that he did not see our son take his first steps, and that he was not there to pick him up when he fell.  and when his first tooth came out, erick did not see his one-toothed smile.  never mind too that he didn’t hear when enrickquito first said, "ad-di" while looking at Erick’s picture.

all these, he gave up, ironically, for enrickquito.  he was willing to sacrifice himself, face the dangers of being a seaman, so he could give us a comfortable life, and a secured future for our son.  that’s my husband, always responsible and forever loving. 

he just had one request before he left, "Take care of our son."

and i failed. 

enrickquito met an accident when erick was thousand miles away from him.  my husband felt so helpless.

so he cried.  i was ready to face his anger, his rage.  but i was not prepared for his tears, the sobs of a worried father.  and i was at a lost on how to comfort my man.  all i could do then was cry too.  together, we let our tears flow.  connected by telephone, we took comfort from each other’s voice as we faced our greatest fear as parents.

"agpa second opinion ka ton bigat.  maymayat pay nu agpathird opinion ka.(get a second opinion tomorrow.  or better yet, have a thrid opinion too)", erick said after we had both calmed down.

he also said to keep him updated on how enrickquito would fare through the night.  "nu masapol nga saan ka maturog, haan ka maturog. (should there be a need for you not to sleep, do not sleep.)"  he said firmly and with finality.

that night, i saw erick as a father, as a good father, whose love for enrickquito is as limitless as God’s love for mankind is. 

i thought nothing could love a child as much as a mother’s.  but that night, i found out i was wrong.  my love for enrickquito is matched by erick’s love for his son.

and so i wrote this blog, to put the limelight to my husband, for his being a great father. 

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY TO THE BEST HUSBAND IN THE WORLD!

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY TO THE GREATEST AD-DI OF ALL.

WE LOVE YOU VERY VERY MUCH.

april 16th, 2008…. 

it’s been over and done with, and my son is okay; thus, i can finally remember that day without crying (if you have no idea what i’m talking about, stop right here and read my previous blog entitled, REMEMBERING APRIL 16TH) .  and when i think about that day, i choose to focus on the lighter side.  i don’t want to stress myself mulling over some freak accident.  like i said, enrickquito is okay, and that’s the most important of all.

you see, i still live with my family because the house that my husband built is located within our compound in Bauang.  and when you live with a motley crew such as my family, well, freak accidents tend to become, somehow, a comedy of all sorts..

when the hammer fell on Enrickquito’s head, all of them cried and all of them were so worried that their manifestation of this feeling became outrageously silly, that i would’ve have laughed out loud if i hadn’t been too busy trying to cast aside my own worries so that i could stay focused and alert.

and here are their reactions..

auntie Sally - (64 yrs old, an old maid whose opinions and comments are often out of this world, Miss frugal, Miss Cool-the complete opposite of my mother) she thought it wasn’t a serious injury, just a little bump on the shoulder, though my son was crying his heart out after the hammer fell.  and when she came to learn that it was indeed a head wound, she cried (my, i thought she was going to faint!) and gave me a thick wad of money to use for Enrickquito’s hospital expenses.  she felt so awful and was so guilt-stricken that days after april 16th, she remained quiet and always stared off at space.

Auntie Fe - (57 yrs old, another old maid, typical barrio folk, loves to talk, and very loud too, very judgemental and loves to make her own conclusions)  when she saw me starting the car, she asked what happened.  i told her i was bringing enrickquito to the hospital because his head was bleeding.  oh boy, was she shocked!!!  really shocked!  she said with such passion, "Alah!!  baka nalsuk jay utek na!  Nalsuk jan utek naaaaaa!!! (a hole might have gone through his brain!!  a hole has gone through his brain!!!)

Nanay Nemia - (55 yrs old, she lost my father when she was only 23 yrs old, thus became the unbeatable Queen of Panick)  she and eenggah were at the  beach when it happened; therefore, she had no idea i was rushing her beloved grandson to the hospital.  she only found out about it when my cousins came charging at our nipa hut by the beach, yelling, "AUNTIE NEMIA! AUNTIE NEMIA!  NADISGRASIA NI ENRICKQUITO!! (Enrickquito had had an accident!)".  Living up to her title as the Queen of Panick, her heart missed some beats upon hearing this, and with trembling hands, she immediately packed their things (forgetting even to pee! tsk.)  and headed home at the speed that even she couldn’t believe she possessed.  upon setting foot inside the house, nanay changed clothes (nope, no need to waste precious time showering nor even washing her face and combing her hair) and hopped in the very first bus she saw!  inside the bus, all she could think was her beloved apo, who she thought might be fighting for his life, that she had lost her voice and her sanity (she even thought of jumping out of the poor bus because it was moving too slow for her need and just run to san fernando instead. thank god she didn’t do that!)   with her panick attack, why, she even forgot her fear of death then as she prayed to God to spare Enrickquito’s life and take hers instead (tsk, tsk).   anyway, when she arrived in Lorma, she looked so windblown, so dishevelled, so dirty, so freaked out and soooo dry, that she looked liked she hadn’t drank any water for the past month.  when she saw us, she immediately grabbed my son from me and hugged him tight while crying unabshedly in public.. 

eenggah - typical 5 years old whose only concern was eating, playing and sleeping.  but when they told her to pray because her ading was in danger, she immediately ran inside lola’s room, faced the aparador (closet) where pictures of saints were plastered on, and whispered her prayer.  very touching indeed..  when she came out of the room, she announced she was hungry.

as for my husband’s reaction, that will be another story, a tale fit for Father’s Day celebration..

and for me, there are still times that i feel the tug of fear in my heart whenever i remember the "what if" of April 16th.  as a mommy, i guess, that feeling will never completely leave me.  but since i always have the prerogative to chose, and life is indeed about choices, i prefer to move on, and focus on the most important fact of all - enrickquito is okay, no real harm done!

and so, thank god for my son,

thank god for his good health

and thank god for my crazy family (who drives me crazy and yet whom i love so much..) 

      What started as an ordinary day turned out to be every parent’s nightmare.  when the accident involving my son happened, i died a little.  and i will never forget April 16, 2008.

     my son, Enrickquito, and i woke up to another summer day - sunny and very hot, even early in the morning.  as the day wore on, the sky turned bluer, with not a cloud in sight. 

     and so we went on with our usual activities, thinking this day would be no different from the previous ones, only the temperature a notch higher.

     when 4pm came, we were outside near the gate, watching the eastern sky turn black, as clouds heavy with rain slowly approached, bringing with them winds that were unusually strong for a summer day.  yes, rain was coming all right and it might come down hard!

     thus, my uncle immediately climbed up the roof to fix the leaks. 

     thus, i left my son to my auntie Fe so i could go inside to prepare his milk.

     after a minute, auntie Fe, who was not so agile anymore due to her heavy weight, gave enrickquito to auntie sally because according to her, "baka matinnag ko. (i might drop him)."

     thus, auntie sally gladly took enrickquito in her arms, and danced with him, sang with him, played with him.  however, their frolicking in the garage was cut short by the sudden clap of thunder!  rain was indeed about to fall!

     thus, she decided they go inside the house.  the problem was, auntie sally forgot uncle inggo was on the roof, repairing the gutter with a hammer. 

     thus, she and my son walked right under the spot where my uncle was.

     thus, the hammer fell, 10 meters down, on enrickquito’s head.

     it was an accident.  nobody wanted it to happen.  but it did happen.  and it happened to my 9-month old baby.

     i remember, i was still inside our house then, about to go out with his milk, when i felt something had gone wrong.  i could feel it down to my bones, SOMETHING BAD HAD HAPPENED.  a few seconds after my motherly instincts kicked in, i heard my son’s screams of pain, then my uncle shouting just this one phrase,

     "Lahnee!!  lahnee!!  puntahan mo yung bata!! puntahan mo yung bata!!(go to the baby!! go to the baby!!)

     with my heart pounding, i dropped the milk bottle and flew down the stairs to where my son was.  all along, i could feel my brain telling my feet, "go faster!  enrickquito is in danger!" 

     what greeted me was actually an ordinary sight.  auntie sally was rocking enrickquito to calm him down. 

     but as a mother, i knew something was wrong with my son.  aside from the fact that he was screaming like a pig being butchered, his cries of pain tore to my heart like a knife.  with tears running down his face, his eyes were pleading for me to get him in the safe cradle of my arms.

     scooping him from auntie sally, i asked, "anya nangyari auntie? (what happened auntie?)"

     calmly, she answered, "baka natinnagan ti martilyo ta abaga na.  kitaem to damdama ta baka idiay tu a lumteg. (the hammer might have fallen on his shoulder.  check it later because the bump may then be visible.)"

     but my heart knew something worse than a shoulder wound was the source of my baby’s wails.

     and my brain was telling me to check his head, since it was located above his shoulders, and was most likely to be hit by the falling hammer.

     parting his hair, i immediately smelled blood. 

     and my heart stopped. 

     when my fingers became sticky with enrickquito’s blood, my heart stopped again. 

     and when i saw the blood, i lost a few years of my life.  i died a little.

     enrickquito’s head was bleeding because a damn hammer fell on it!  my precious baby, my poor baby..  of all the things that hammer could have fallen on to, why on my son?  he was only 9 months old!  why not, uh, auntie sally?  (hehehe, sorry po)

     thank god, only my strength left me (and for just a few seconds) and not my wits and common sense.

     immediately after i saw the wound, we put ice on it.  and i started to pray.

     quickly, we got ready to go to the hospital.  i was still praying.

     through the long the drive to Lorma Medical Center, i remained calm because my baby needed me and was dependent on my clear thinking.  still, i didn’t stop praying.

     when the doctors were examining and treating his wound, when xrays were done on his skull, i never stopped praying.

my baby was hurt, i should be strong and i shouldn’t stop praying!!..

    

     and thank god, our prayers were answered according to our wishes.  enrickquito was okay.  xray results showed normal findings, no fractures whatsoever.  the wound on his head was not deep, it was actually a small cut.  my son did not get drowsy nor sleepy, he did not throw up, didn’t have fever. 

a miracle indeed.

     that day, April 16, i went through a roller coaster ride of emotions.  an accident happened and i was gripped with the fear of losing my son; yet, i didn’t let it control my senses.  i was very worried , yet i did not panic.  the mother in me ruled, thus i recognized the need for clear and quick thinking.  and most of all, i included God through it all.

     and to those who prayed with us,

     those who asked God to save my baby,

     those who showed their concern and support,

     THANK YOU..

(Tita Carmelita, Lorraine, Omeng and Rose, thank you for your moral support, for your prayers.  why, even your simple question of "what happened?" had touched my heart and given me strength. thank you so much.)

note:  this was the blasted hammer i was talking about.  see how big it was?  and see how small my baby’s head?  …  a miracle indeed..

(this picture was taken today, May 2, and not on the day the accident happened.  i did this for comparison.)

i came across this story years ago from the column of Ricky Lo (Conversations With Ricky Lo at The Philippine Star).  According to him, Rio Diaz who was still alive then, sent this story to him.  The first time i read it, it gave me goosebumps.  It made me cry.  It brought me closer to God.  It renewed my faith, my hope..  So right then and there, i decided to cut it out and to save it, to store it in between the pages of my Bible.  Every now and then, I’d read it, and I’d still feel the same effects - goosebumps and tears.. 

so now, i am sharing this beautiful story to you, not only because it is Lent, but more so that all of us will come to trust in God, especially when things do not go our way.  Believe in Him, and never give up.

 

Once, there were three trees on a hill in the woods.  they were discussing their hopes and dreams when the first tree said, “Someday, I hope to be a treasure chest.  I could be filled with gold, silver and precious gems.  I would be decorated with intricate carvings and everyone would see my beauty.” 

     Then the second tree said, “Someday, I will be a mighty ship.  I will take kings and queens across the waters and sail to the corners of the world.  Everyone will feel safe in me because of the strength in my hull.” 

     Finally, the third tree said, “I want to grow to be the tallest and the straightest tree in the forest.  People will see me on top of the hill and look up to my branches and think of the heavens and God and how close to them I am reaching.  I will be the greatest tree of all time and people will remember me.”

     After a few years of praying that their dreams would come true, a group of woodsmen came upon the trees.  When one came to the first tree, he said, “This looks like a strong tree, I think I should be able to sell the wood to a carpenter,” and he begun cutting it down.  The tree was happy because he knew that the carpenter would make him into a treasure chest. 

     At the second tree, the woodsman said, “This looks like a strong tree.  I should be able to sell it to the shipyard.”  The second tree was happy because he knew he was on his way to becoming a mighty ship. 

     When the woodsman came upon the third tree,  the tree was frightened because he knew that if they cut him down, his dreams would not come true.  One of the woodsmen said, “I don’t see anything special on this tree, but I’ll cut it anyway.”

When the first tree reached the carpenter, he was made into a feed box for animals.  He was then placed in a barn and filled with hay.  This was not at all that he planned. 

     The second tree was cut and made into a small fishing boat.  His dreams of becoming a mighty ship and carrying kings had come to an end. 

     The third tree was cut into two and left alone in the dark.

 

     The years went by and the trees forgot about their dreams.

    

     Then one day, a man and a woman came into the barn.  She gave birth and they placed the baby in the hay in the feed box that was made from the first tree. The man wished that he could have made a crib for the baby, but this manger would have to do.  The tree could feel the importance of this event and knew that it had held the greatest treasure of all time.

     Years later, a group of men got in the fishing boat made from the second tree.  One of them was tired and went to sleep.  While they were out in the water, a great storm came and the tree didn’t think it was strong enough to keep the men safe.  The men woke the sleeping man and he stood and said, “Peace…be still.”  And the storm stopped.  At this time, the tree knew it had carried the King of Kings in his boat.

     Finally, someone came and got the third tree.  It was carried to the streets as the people mocked  the man who was carrying it.  When they came to a stop, the man was nailed to the tree and raised in the air to die at the top of the hill.  When Sunday came, the tree came to realize that it was strong enough to stand at the hill and be as close to God as was possible because Jesus had been crucified on it.

MESSAGE:  When things don’t seem to be going your way, always know that God has a plan for you.  If you place your trust in Him, He will give you great gifts.  Each of the trees got what they wanted, just not in the way they imagined.  We don’t always know know what God’s plans are for us.  We just know that His ways are not our ways, but His ways are always the best.