celebrating life and death

Ecclesiastes
Chapter 3 Verses 1-8

To everything there is a season, and
a time to every purpose under the heavens:

A time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck
up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a
time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a
time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to
refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence,
and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate;
a time of war, and a time of peace.

Kahlil's poetry and my reflections about my father

Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.
Kahlil Gibran

I am feeling so troubled and weary! It is the thought of my father who is fighting for his life in the hospital at this moment, that is so bothering and making me feel so restless. From where I stand, I can only hope, pray and surrender my father's ordeal to the Almighty!

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.

Just before I leave the house to attend the Sunday mass, I got a call from my father's doctor. I was informed that my father's vital organs (kidney, liver and colon) are failing and even if he undergoes dialysis and other interventions, there is not much hope towards recovery.

When I was at the church, the gospel is about healing. And I prayed that my father be healed spiritually because he no longer cannot, physically.

And I cried because I know he wanted to live. I asked the Lord up above to please help my father accept his fate. Is it really frightening when it is about time? I do not know. I am frightened. Am I losing faith?

If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were.

Just as I arrived from the church, I called the hospital. I have not heard tatay say a word for many days now. Every time I call, I let him hear me and my children' s voices saying "I love you" so often.

When I hear my father's shallow breathing, my heart beats faster, my eyes get teary and I tremble inside! But I have to be strong by believing that - his pain will end soon. He will then be rested and will have eternal bliss!

Pain and foolishness lead to great bliss and complete knowledge, for Eternal Wisdom created nothing under the sun in vain.

driving me crazy!

Rejoinder to Durian

I was not able to finish my thoughts about the Durian article yesterday since I have to rush somewhere else. The photo above is another shot and shows a closer view of the sculpture. It was done by Kublai Milan, a local artist. I find all of his work interesting and provocative. I discovered his work because my office before is located near their family- owned hotel. And you should see what he has done with the hotel...he mounted it with his different sculptures. I will take pictures of it when I have time. So fascinating for me! When you go inside, you will be awed a little bit more with the hotel's interiors because it is all adorned with his paintings and art works. He calls his hotel "the unconvention center"....hmmmmm.

The first time I tasted Durian was in 1989. Since then, it has been a craving. We have it here in Davao all-year round but it is cheaper during months of August till October. I mentioned how Durian is a part of the city's culture and lifestyle. One will be amazed how the people here in Davao adore that exotic fruit. August is the month Davao celebrates the many bounties of its land. Its called "Kadayawan". And the city literally smells of Durian. Durian in the streets are sold in bargain prices and there are stalls where you can have "Eat all you can Durian" and other gimmicks.

When I went to a fact-finding mission in the highlands of Upper Tamugan, I was surprised that the Lumads (one of the many Indigenous People here in Davao) eat Durian as their viands to the rice we have. Again, I was amazed! And I have learned that the people in the countryside for such a long time really eat it as viand. I have not tried it yet though.

I love eating Durian (just like any Davaoeno) in the streets with a bottle of Coke. It is a complete meal for me. Cover your mouth when you burp! The smell is ssssoooo intense! That would be gross to others who do not like Durian!

I used to be so indifferent to the fruit but no longer now!

Durian - the fruit, sculpture, legend and the city it represents

There is one sculpture in our Davao International Airport which I really admire. Its the big Durian fruit which everyone coming to Davao should notice from the arrival area. Durian is a symbol of Davao's history and culture because of its abundance in the city. Quite synonymous to the blessings the city is gaining.

I become aware of the Durian fruit when in elementary, we were asked to read about some national legends and myths. And of course one of those stories is about the legend of the Durian fruit. Its lead character is Dory. In the drawing (from the book) she looks like Fiona of the movie "Shrek". Well, she is supposed to be an ugly daughter of a Datu in a faraway land in Mindanao. But even if she is not pretty she is good and compassionate to the people but is so unlucky in love because there was no one who would want to marry her. And to make the story short, she died in a most unlikely accident. Because she is well-loved, the people just cannot forget her. Years passed and the people noticed a tree growing beside her grave. When it bore some fruit they were surprised how different it looked with the sharp spikes all over and the most pungent smell it produces. Some of them tasted the fruit and found out how heavenly it tastes. That is all I can remember. I hope my memory is still that accurate.

Giving Durian such reverence is acceptable for me because of its close association to what and where Davao city and the people has gone so far. The sculpture also has people (with different religion, cultures and practices) inside it which for me signifies unity in spite of the many differences.

life ends but never love featuring "caruso"

Whenever I am troubled, there is one way that I derive some kind of strength. I usually crave for some classical music or some Italian /Spanish songs. Even my neighbors can attest to this - whenever they hear my Italian songs it must be because "Angie is kind of upset today". In the year 1998, I always play Romanza of Andrea Bocelli because from that album I learned to love and was deeply drawn to the song "Caruso".

When my friend Gaga, invited me to watch Josh Groban's concert (dvd) on her new home theater last year, I nearly fell on the floor when Josh sang that song. I was dumbfounded and created my own world watching him sing a song so very close to my heart. I really find the gush of music and lyrics of the song to be so appealing that I could get so emotional.

"Even death become sweeter" is from the lyrics of the song. I guess death could be another form of love. It is love because it is an offering of life. In death we leave behind important lessons gathered in life for those who are left living.

The song is special because of its very important lesson - that life ends but never does love.

Besame Mucho

When I was a little girl back in Laoang (the island), I always hear this song sang by one of my father's best friends. His name is Rustom Lagrimas (I am not sure with the surname). He plays the guitar (sssooooo weelllll) and when he sing this song, I really stop and think "how beautiful the song is" only that I just do not understand it.

I also hear my tatay sing this song a couple of times too. I do not know how often I would go to the main street from my grandmother's house to peep and listen to Rustom play his guitar and sing. He got a soulful voice too. Their house is big and he comes from a wealthy family. They have a store in the street corner and that is where he sits and play the guitar. His friends including my father would come later at night have some drink and sing a lot. That is the earliest form of entertainment I had.

I studied in Manila at the Sta. Catalina College in Legarda. That is where I learned some Spanish words. There are a lot of nuns who speaks the language and that is where I understood what "Besame Mucho" is. So I said, I was not wrong to think that the song is romantic and talks about feelings of love and has a drawing power for lovers.

During that time, I could not really relate to that kind of feeling. But what was important to me was that I discovered the meaning of that Spanish song.

Rustom also visits our house in Manila whenever he has a chance. And it was only during those visits that I hear again that song being sang in person. So very close to me. Not the song "besame mucho" I hear in the radio or seen on tv.

Going back to my father, he had some serious bleeding today. I talked to him. I told him a couple of things but I can only hear him breathing. When I said, "Angelo (my son) is graduating in high school this coming March" he gasped for some mumbles.

The song is for you tatay. I would want a hug and kiss from you right now - coz I am feeling troubled again with thoughts of what you are going through!

living in the "land of promise"

Davao City in the island of Mindanao is where I lived for 15 years now. In Manila, they say life here is difficult. There is war and conflict. No opportunities. Critical remarks about the island abound. But there was no way that I was scared when I decided to build and raise my family here.

When I saw that "Land of Promise" panorama at the GAP Farm Resort back in 1989 when I first visited the city, I knew there was much promise in this land.

Living here is peaceful and not difficult as what they say in Manila. There are available jobs here too. Food is everywhere and cheaper. We do shopping and dining with the Muslims and other minority groups, in the malls and restaurants and e.g. without killing each other!

But what I admire most is the city's accessibility to the wonders of nature (land, water and air)! Beaches in the city and the Samal Island are clean and affordable. The island is just 10 minutes away (by the ferry) from the city.

Mountain resorts are just nearby. Just an hour away from the downtown area and one gets to these cool hideaways and look at the breathtaking views of the city and Samal Island.

And we don't get whipped with fiery storms down here. We get cool and clean breeze air from the sea and the mountains.

What more can I ask?

drive with me

Welcome to my second home! Another comfort zone! My comfort room (har har har)! That is inside my vehicle!

My friend, Churchill Ampalayo is really great at taking good shots with his camera! We worked together in a USAID project back in 2005 and my vehicle was brand new then. He playfully asked while we were on our way to the project sites, "Angie, is it ok if I take pictures of you driving"? "Ok" I said "and make me look like I am seriously driving like a pro".

My CD player in the car plays Josh Groban, Andrea Bocelli and Jed Madela (local artist) music most of the time. Their music relaxes me and the songs are so powerfully romantic, e.g. even if I do not understand many Italian and Spanish words. Jed has the most fascinating interpretations of some of my favorite old songs. One is "The Impossible Dream". Josh, Andrea and Jed are always with me, the moment I stepped inside the vehicle.

Here I am cruising the streets of downtown Davao.

I like driving over bridges. I am fascinated at the sight of the flowing river or the sea and trees lining it. Bridges in Davao are not that elaborate and grand but just the same they are bridges (I fancy). At this particular bridge, children living near the river really have some good time jumping from the top of the bridge down to the river. Great and spectacular, but really dangerous!

I

That accessory hanging from the mirror is a gift from my husband Celin. Those are miniatures of the ship where he used to work "The Norwegian Dream". Well, that makes him a passenger everyday. He says it has carats ( maybe) so I will take care of it har har har. Of course, I will treasure it with or without the value. The vehicle was also his gift to us.

This vehicle has always been a witness to all happy and sad moments of our lives. Inside we laugh, cry, fight, discuss things about just anything. When in a hurry, it becomes my kids' dressing room. I have in there my kids' combs, extra socks, slippers, school materials and almost anything that they could be needing. There are also some books I have to finish. I read when I am waiting. I also organize my bills, receipts and documents inside it. Just like an office. But it is more like, my home.

slipping away

I have a friend who came by the other night. She really looked weary so I think she needed someone to talk to. She is a frequent visitor because she says she feels relieved and enlightened whenever she talks to me. Since the day I met her, there were countless times that our friendship was tested. And there have been many ways too that we have survived those tests. And my only question about our friendship is that "am I really helping her to help herself"?

I have done counseling ever since I graduated in college, but when I get tired of making a point I sometimes become satirical. Which is what I wanted to lessen because of course not many people adapt to it. So I myself get away from my own selfish thoughts and just have to repeat and redefine matters that should be surfacing and eventually be helpful to her.

There were many times in the past that she has encountered crisis after crisis in life. The worst maybe was two years ago, wherein the effect is still ongoing. I have seen her recover from one tragedy to another and every time there is another one, I had a strangest feeling that there is something more than this pattern. I want to look deeper on the way life is treating her. And on the other hand, the way she is treating life.

I do not get tired of listening and trying to let her understand a sensible point. But it slips away. She slips away into thoughts that would lead her far away from the root problem.

I have seen it many times to myself - when I am deeply troubled, I find ways to cover it up by doing just anything I can for me to escape such a painful feeling. Have seen it to many - who easily point out mistakes, but cannot see their own. Who invest too much effort on discussing matters that are not their own yet they are crumbling from the inside.

She came just to ask about my opinion on some matters. Matters that later after the talk, she realized as far-fetched. As a friend I offer her the best of my ability to rebuild herself. I have not given up on her, but I also want to emphasize that there should be efforts coming from her towards "changing". Is she really willing to rebuild or unwilling to get out of that system? Some people linger into being miserable because they have been there for such a long time they were able to adapt it as a lifestyle. How sad!

Slipping away for some period of time could be helpful but when it is prolonged it becomes alarming.

clinging to a comfort zone 2

I do not exactly suggest "clinging". It is not an ideal way of dealing with issues and concerns, I believe. But I just made an exaggeration of it to satisfy that weakness especially that I am away most of the time from my family. My husband has been working overseas ever since and I have to actually cling to my own strength in addressing concerns of the family and my own emotional and psychological needs.

As I have mentioned in the very first "clinging to a comfort zone" article last month, that I also feel like clinging to my American uncle who is far away from me because he can help fill- up some gap.

The closest I have here aside from my children, are my neighbors whom I have developed good (sometimes not so good har har har) relationships. I remember, celebrating countless birthdays, Christmases and other special occasions with them because their husbands and families are also away.

We have to literally cling to each other for comfort especially during financial, emotional and psychological distresses. And I am mighty glad, we have each other for the much needed solace.

When we are together, we also talk about our parents, brothers and sisters and other relatives. The sharing of experiences help us:

a) gain knowledge of the different family systems and communication patterns.
b) identify problem areas in marital and other familial relationships and "repair" too.
c) appreciate the uniqueness of our children and families.
d) realizes that each one of us are truly blessed uniquely (also!).
e) realizes that we have to value ourselves and each other
f) and value mostly our families (even how close or far they are) because they are the missing
part of our wholeness and wellness.

love thy father 2 featuring "and i love you so"

My father was rushed back to the Philippine Heart Center last Sunday. I have been feeling so restless and distracted since then. I always promise to call but I seemed to deliberately not to. Is it that bad, this time? Ohh I do not know what to think.

I had the courage to talk to him only this morning. And I feel so heavy in my heart to hear his voice weaker than ever. I guess, because he is on tube feeding and cannot mutter his words clearly. But he replied a disentangled " I love you" when I said " I love you" to him. I was trying hard to cheer him up but he was so restless. Ohhh my God, I just do not know what to do from where I am.

Tatay, are you traveling into your past? Do you remember this song? "And I love you so" by Perry Como. I have chosen this video because it has the photograph of one of our long playing albums of Perry Como. You used to have a collection of long playing albums at home. You must have felt so bad when you have to sell all of it for us to survive during one of the worst financial crisis of our life.

I heared you sang this song so often before. And you do sing good and in tune.

I can hear your voice loud and clear singing it now.

This picture was taken yesterday February 10. That is Thea, my niece who is always there to cheer -up and take care of tatay.



Here is our picture together with Thomas (my nephew) last November (2008):

another attempt to poetry 4

it was mystical the day we met.
ridiculous! but in such a strange distance there is
our minds could both be thinking the same way
because there was understanding so instantly.
I believe when we met there could have been clouds wrapping on to both of us!

it was romantic the day we met.
fascinating! but in a rather strange horizon that is
our hearts could be beating at the same rate
because shower of affection came our way.
I believe when we met there could have been stars flickering on both of us!

It was mysterious the day we met.
Unknowingly revealing the sense of all of these.
Our souls could be soaring up high steadily
finding a way for both of us to come byway.

romantic february

I have to feel enchanted tonight!

And when I do, I really want to sing. Please sing with me this very special song. A song I would always want to hear. In exaggeration, I will be in a state of trance if serenaded by this.

YOUR SONG by Elton John.

Here is a little history of my relationship with this song. I loved this when I first heard it in elementary. I really think that the lyrics and music are so perfect together. I started playing it on the guitar when I was in high school. It was only when I lived here in Davao when I gathered much confidence in singing it. My neighbors hear me belt out this song especially when I feel so lonely. Well, nobody really complained (among my neighbors) so I thought I gave justice to the song.

The very first time I sang it in front of a big crowd was in year 2000 when I was a faculty member at the San Pedro College in Davao City. My very best friend Ryan Enginco endlessly sang that song with me during the rehearsals. Ryan plays the piano and sings very well too. He is one of the youngest faculty members in San Pedro and I am mighty glad that in my lifetime, I met him. Had immeasurable clean fun with him.

The lyrics goes like this:

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside
I'm not one of those who can easily hide
I don't have much money but boy if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live

If I was a sculptor, but then again, no
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show
I know it's not much but it's the best I can do
My gift is my song and this one's for you

And you can tell everybody this is your song
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world

I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss
Well a few of the verses well they've got me quite cross
But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song
It's for people like you that keep it turned on

So excuse me forgetting but these things I do
You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue
Anyway the thing is what I really mean
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

And the performance:

sorry

Saying the word "sorry" is supportive to our psychological make-up. It is sometimes difficult but feels good to say it especially during times when you think you were wronged by the other person/s. Because it is during these tough moments when you define yourself as being human. Truly a humbling experience when we get to the point of deciding and appreciating the relationship than the pride in us. Mean it and it can be truly unburdening us of lots of baggage.

That is of course unsolicited, but I have the urge of sharing that "attitude" because I came from a family whom everyone I know of - thinks that they are always right. If you think otherwise, then you are wrong. That means no "ifs" and "buts". Tough when I was younger but now, I just shrug -off my shoulders and find it just "hilarious".

wildflower

She's faced the hardest times you could imagine,
And many times her eyes fought back the tears.
And when her youthful world was about to fall in
Each time her slender shoulders bore the weight of all her fears,
and her sorrow no one hears, still rings in midnight silence,
in her ears...

Let her cry, for she's a Lady
Let her dream, for she's a Child
Let the rain fall down upon her
She's a free and gentle flower, growing wild.

And if by chance, I should hold her,
Let me hold her for a time;
But if allowed just one posession,
I would pick her from the garden, to be mine.

Be careful how you touch her, for she will waken;
and sleep's the only freedom that she knows.
And when you walk into her eyes, you won't believe;
The way she's always payin' for a debt she never owed,
and the silent wind still blows, that only she can hear,
And so, she goes.

Let her cry, for she's a Lady
Let her dream, for she's a Child
Let the rain fall down upon her...

Note: One of my most favorite songs. Please let me just stay there with my pigeons and the flowers (up there in the photo). I am feeling kinda heavy- hearted today. And this song might just help me swing back my thoughts to a rational manner.

attempt to poetry 3

when something goes wrong
it seems all else follows

should it all be wrong?
it does not have to follow


when something comes up right
it seems all else follows, too

should it always be right?
then nothing else follows

it can never be always right
neither always wrong

just be right at some unreasonable times
and be wrong during reasonable ones

time and again
certain and uncertain times

whether you were right or wrong
you have been giving, receiving
and living precious time!

that one follows!

remembering grandmothers

The first time I felt the urge of running away from our house was - when I was about 5 or 6 years old. I actually did (ran away). And succeeded. I just got a gut feeling then that "I will not be harmed". And anyone who should notice me walking all alone, will bring me to where I want to go - to my grandmothers' house.

Of course, it happened according to my innocent plan because my father is popular in our place and I heard many people in the island say that "I do look like him".

Well, I came from the central part of the island town and our house is located on top of a hill. My grandmothers live near the sea. A few steps from their house will bring me to the sand, rocks and sea. And from the beach, one will see a picturesque site of the quiet and solemn town cemetery, set above the big mountain rocks and trees of green. One will have a mixed eerie and relaxed feeling upon seeing it. When I get tired of forever wading and swimming , I sit still on top of a rock and glance towards that direction . Now that I am an adult, I consider those as my very first human experiences of reflection and feelings of tranquility. And I do not get that from our house on a hill.

My home with my grandmothers, gave me not only the sand, rocks and sea but the feeling of what I can describe now as being untroubled, warm and free.

Untroubled because my 2 grandmothers (both spinsters) dote on me too much. I do not remember getting afraid and hungry when I am with them. They live on their own and without a man to protect them. I think, I got that strength from them. Even when they were both busy from the moment they woke up until it is time to retire at night, I felt taken cared of. Mamay Cilay who is a dressmaker and very good in crocheting was always talking to me even if her feet were busy shifting the pedals of her sewing machine. Her hands were never vacant with something to do ( from the threads she crochets to the rosary beads she moves when at prayer). Mamay Ninang is also very talkative. She cooks the best native delicacies for me to eat and the rest she sells. Even when I do not understand what they were talking about before ( but I suspect now that those could be about our neighbors and relatives har har har) I knew there is much sense to what they were saying. I also seldom hear them say something about men.

I think, they are women who knows what they want from life. One is for them not to have husbands and the second, is just to live their lives accordingly and simply. Did I hear them complain? I cannot remember, they just work and give.

Both are loving and caring. Mamay Cilay is the disciplinarian. She works hard so she hates it when you leave your plate with any leftover (not even a grain of rice). It should be clean. I remember making her laugh oftentimes and making her angry also when I come home late (from the nearby beach). But she is sick with asthma, that is why she does not want me to sleep beside her. But I sometimes sneak on her bed and she wakes up surprised having me beside her. She died when I was in high school. That was terrible because she was buried a day before we came. I am closer to Mamay Ninang because she is more tolerant of me and she was more expressive physically as in, she kisses and hugs me a lot. At night, I should sleep with my head not on my pillows, but on her arms. And I wake up in the morning still that way! That is amazing! She took care of me and my children until she died right here in my house at the age of 88.

My grandmothers were never educated. During their time, women were not given the chance to study the same way they would let the men in the family have it. Their brothers were all professionals but I have never seen them harbor grudges about it. My grandmothers came from a landed family but they never made a big issue on who grabbed their share of the properties. My grandmothers lived in this world with nothing and left also, with nothing.

But I give them all my reverence and the greatest of my love for being a part of the freedom I have now. They have given me more than wealth. Freedom - to express who I am in the face of rejection, fear, anger, pain and even pleasure.

A glance at the cemetery from the beach!

And I sigh with tears rolling down my face, "I should have given you more than what you gave me, my two Mamays!

Note: They became my grandmothers because their sister died after giving birth to my own mother. They took the responsibility of raising my mother and the rest of us.

(Not) About Me

My only follower (Joel) of this blog, outrageously asked me yesterday if the content of my "About Me" section is really a description of me. I did not seriously think about that comment but I thought it might be a pressing issue (har har har). So I guess, I have to write something about it here.

I think, I wrote that it was a close description of me and that could mean a hit or hint of who I am. And I might be right or wrong.

Well, Joel and I really never agreed easily on any aspect of this wonderful life. I mean "easily" because we always have to go through some gruelling discussions and disagreements before surrendering to the fact that we have to respect each others views. We have such a unique friendship and I do appreciate the fact that it lasted for so many years now.

I rarely have a best friend who is from the opposite sex. I say, he is the only one (the rest became lovers har har har) so I think I have to give credit to what ever he says about me. But it does not mean that I have to fancy it. Anyway at my age, I have learned to welcome any comments and if it is coming from a friend I should think that it is not too harmful.

I also firmly believe that friends should not always be agreeable to one another. Or the relationship will never ever grow to a more matured level.

It is alright with me if he perceives me differently. I also do with myself.