Time to go!

I am currently in a room of test-takers. For clarity, I am not one of them nor the tester. Neither am I a spectator. I have been in the testing world for more than a decade now & being in the room brings back nostalgia into my system. So getting involved is not so my mood at this time. I need to divert my energy to more meaningful tasks than being nostalgic. For one, I forgot to bring a bigger hanky. And two, I might disturb the testees with my sneezing & honking.

So why then am I here?

Guess I am forced by the need to see one of the best ANOVA interpreter I could avail of in this side of my town. Whether I like the feeling or not, well, that I will leave the interpretation to you dear readers.

My concern at the moment is TIME.

There are moments I so appreciate the shortness of time especially when at the mercy of unbearable circumstances (which has become more often than I prayed for;-)

But there are instances that shortness of time is an enemy.

24 hours? 20 waking hours? This to me is not enough. I wish my body clock does not tick of tiredness... moreso my mind does not shut off after 24 hours.

So many things I want to do. Such little time. I'm no longer so sure if these things I'm exerting much effort to means much to me or would do me any good at the end of my days. (paging Fr.Peter... please guide me through this. But I want to make myself clear, I'm NOT ready for you yet. Just a sign will do;-)

One thing I miss the most is this... Symbolizing my thoughts into words...

Whoa! That's it! I have found reason why I'm here! At least my waiting here did not go to waste. I am able to transform something into reality. My babbling at this corner is somehow productive. This is my FIRST real blog after 2 hibernating years!!!

YES! Thank God I was able to do this. I have not just seated here & got a good bunch of inputs but also an output I could post in my almost dormant blogsite!

Now I should go & try to keep posting... maybe I could ask another person hold me for a while ;-)

Are you there?

December 22, 2021.

My fortieth Christmas is creeping up and I feel like I’m headed for an inevitable midlife crisis. Fortunately, a guy in my position, consumed day and night by his job, doesn’t have the time to go screw up his personal life by buying a Ferrari or by cheating on his wife with unrelenting physical pleasure from new-age virtual technology to incapacitate the user for a week after kind-of-coitus, or KOC.

I look at my wife and I can see the circles around her eyes from all the preparations building up to Christmas day – from carefully planning the Noche Buena menu to the last-minute panic shopping and decorations. Both my kids cannot be contained from the anticipation of opening their gifts – they bug you every second if they can just take a peek. As I sat there watching them with saddened eyes, I reminisced when this all started.

It was eighteen years ago, a week before Christmas to be exact. I just passed training for my very first job. I couldn’t remember anymore who made the call. My father just passed away. It was more of a shock than anything else. I cannot remember if I even cried. Maybe it’s just that it hasn’t sunk in yet. I just stared at blank space. At that time, my mother is battling cancer and undergoing chemo (she died 6 months later). So I was like, “What’s happening?” You know what I mean? How could I celebrate when all these tragedies were all of a sudden have decided to just converge on one occasion; this one occasion that I have always been looking forward to; this one occasion when I can see my family as a whole?

So from then on, Christmas was not for me to celebrate. I am that jaded. I leave the celebrating to those that are truly happy; to those who have someone to celebrate it with; to those who can still spend the holidays with their loved ones - opening gifts, singing carols, laughing and having meals on Christmas Eve. Someday I wish I can find my own. Someday I hope and pray to God to lift this veil of suffering from me. Someday…And until then this will be my silent protest.

My little daughter was tugging at my shirt sleeve and looking at me with her doe eyes. Her brother is watching her mom make the shopping list while he sits on her lap. I snapped out of my reverie and ruffled my daughter’s hair to which she responded with an exasperated look.
From then on, I decided I no longer need to wait for another Christmas. I am already there. This is my happy ending.




I commented:

“Your posts always make me cry. Maybe because it touches what I feel, too. Or just maybe, we haven't really talked about this after pop and mom died. We both have caged ourselves. Afraid to disclose any emotions. We have always expressed ourselves in the safe zone -- our prose.”



The above prose was written by my brother. Posted in his site. I have always admired how he arranges his words to a meaningful, sentimental whole. The more I admire him now for being so strong. What he has written is not fiction. My father died of heart attack – slept and never woke up – in December 12, 2003, barely few days before Christmas and a few days after our mother underwent her fourth chemotherapy session. And yes, six months before she succumb to cancer. More painful to say, our mother died in June 12, 2004, a day before my brother’s birthday. Two major occasions where he has to celebrate – we have to celebrate, yet, two major deaths – that of our parents’ precede the events.

“Hats off, dear brother! I admire your strength.”

My brother now lives with a few flatmates in Makati. No family yet. No love-life I guess. I just pray to God that soon… indeed he would find that wife he is referring to in his prose and will have kids to bring him back to that feeling of looking forward to celebrating Christmas and his birthday. “I love you bro! Merry Christmas!”

He and She

She in her youth
fell in love
He in his passion
got her pregnant.


She in her innocence
gave him her all
He in his ambition
left her pained.


She in her selflessness
took him when he returned
He in his insensitivity
wounded her in every comeback.


She in her deathbed
loved him still
He in his suffering
longed another chance.


She in her last breath
uttered forgiveness for him
He in his other life
welcomed her to eternity.


She is my mother
died of cancer
He is my father
slept and never woke up.


She is my mother
died six months after him
He is my father
died six months before her.


Now, she and he are united
stood by their promise:
Not “’Til death do us part”
but “Death brought us together”.

This was a poem I composed for my parents maybe two or three years ago which I posted in my CABAnata blogsite in 2007... wherever they may be, my only hope is that they are happy and free of all the earthly burdens they have felt in their lifetime. And that, if in their hearts they feel I haven't made known to them in words and/or in actions that I love them... then for one more day, I wish be granted to me.

Sing Me Your Song Mommy

Sing me your song Mommy

your version of Brahms’ lullaby

embrace me tenderly

until with the birds I fly.

Sing me your song Mommy

your rendition of “I Love You Song”

even better than that of Barney

until the angels hum along.

Sing me your song Mommy

sing the song in your heart

I want to see you smile so sweetly

like clouds, a sugar-coated tart.

Sing me your song Mommy

sing me with daffodils in your ear

I will listen to you intently

like lilies kiss the water dear.

Sing me your song Mommy

let’s dance to its every tune

and in your arms you carry me

until darkness pleases the moon.

Sing me your song Mommy

let your music tug along dreamers

and fill our senses with the scent of a daisy

until the sun breaks our slumbers.

Happy Mother's Day to all great Moms out there! -- Moms who never stop giving even when they have given more than their cups could fill...

Greetings from the Josue family!

Reposted: CABAnata, July 3, 2007

my HOME

dawn breaks and dusk falls

painting the horizon with calming hues

waves touch the shore -- its final destination

so do I -- to my HOME.

Waterlily

floating, freedom to be
loving the water that cleanses what is physical
purifying it in return
symbiosis
the science of co-existing
and the essence of living

More of Life's Simple Pleasures @ Life in Stanzas