i am my dad’s daughter

It has been quite a while since I have put my thoughts into writing. Of course, I wanted to write a novel in the style of Mitch Albom and Amy Tan, a book about life and how it is lived by ordinary people living extraordinary lives in their own ways. Years back, I dreamed of writing stories as a way to escape – where I can revise my life and be someone else somewhere else. In my imagination, I could change everything: myself, my life, my past. But the mere idea frightens me because it is as if by imagination alone I am condemning what I do not like about myself or others that have made a significant impact in my life. I suppose writing what you wish for is the most dangerous form of wishful thinking. And I still think it is.

In the midst of all the crazy things that continue to happen in my life, I suppose people are wondering how I manage to stay intact with my sanity. Is it courage, or is it because I finally have no choice but to stay strong hence everything else will falter?  Maybe both happen to be true. But sometimes the truth lies deeper than what is meant to be seen by the eyes. I appear composed, but there are a lot of things going on in my mind. Maybe one of these days I will put a “Fragile” sign up there because it grows sensitive to every bit of stress-related event happening to me that seems to be never ending. I came to realize that life is one big compromise. That you don’t get what you want no matter how smart you are, how hard you work, or how good you are. Life as blissful as a flowing river is but a myth. Everyone else is hanging on the best way he can. And with that I stay strong and courageous because I know it isn’t just me. I am but a representation of a multitude of those who suffer in a different way. Maybe being pessimistic about life has made me stronger and able to cope. I stopped thinking about life as sweet when the rain started pouring nonstop for me. I was disillusioned so I have to find a way to see things in a different perspective – to not put my life against a backdrop that’s pure pastel. From there, I gain whatever is needed to stand up and face it all, even if deep inside I am aching and hurting.

When my dad passed away last January 8, 2010, I thought life stopped for me and my family. Not literally, but in a surreal way, yes. The night he had a stroke seemed like eons away even if it was just 11 days before he finally exhaled his last breath. No Happy New Year for us because he was there at St. Luke’s Cardiovascular Care Unit, fighting for his life, while everyone else was greeting the coming of 2010. I couldn’t think of anything good to start with this year because all I was thinking was, “Lord, bring us back our Dad.” I had to spend the New Year away from my husband and kids, which added more to the burden that is already tormenting me.

I missed my Dad so much. This is the first Father’s Day that I have no Dad to greet; no Dad to say “I love you” to. And again they say that things happen for a reason. During the first night of my Dad’s death, I couldn’t think of any reason why a good and loving father should be taken away from his love ones so abruptly. I was trying to relive the dinner my husband and I had with Dad and my family on the 20^th of December 2009. It was my parents’ 34^th wedding anniversary. He looked ok. He never showed signs of having an impending stroke. Everything looked normal, which makes me think harder on why he had to have that stroke on the 27^th of December, 2 days after Christmas. But I have later come to accept that maybe it was better left unquestioned; that whatever happened must have been part of the Great Chain of Being that God has in stored for us. But still, I miss my Dad. He would no longer be there to see me graduate from my masters; too bad, because he has always been the most eager person to see me upstage during graduation day. And he won’t be there to walk me down the aisle when the time comes for my church wedding. But still, I suffice myself with not asking God the so many why’s in my mind because I know that He knows all the things that I do not and can not know.

huh?

i am trying not to look desperate despite the fact that my dwindling sanity is forcing me to do otherwise. did i say sanity? gosh! that means i think that i may be going a little too far fetched for this. anyway, life is at the usual pace for me. usual means that the “perks” of my life are at their peak and are somehow disturbing the serenity that i am trying to build for myself recently.

if you cannot understand anything from this whatzat, it’s ok. i don’t too. these are just random thoughts written by a person trying to kill time while trying to look like she’s working really hard on her file. there!

now, it’s almost time to go home. i’ve done my job. i guess it’s about time to put things to rest for a while.

this is my nth attempt to fill in the growing space of this blog. and i guess i am pretty successful this time.

time to go.

and time to…well. i’m not yet sure. tomorrow is another day perhaps.

it’s nice to be back!

…

and i say

the Krusty Krab Pizza

is the pizza

for you and me!

oyeh!

…

silver linings and moving on

Death may end a life but it will surely not end the love you feel for someone so dear. Not if there is nothing that could compare to the unconditional affection he has given you. My Dad is someone who gives love without expecting anything in return. A little hug or kiss may lighten his mood especially when this sign of affection comes from his grandchildren. I could not recall ever feeling bad towards my Dad because he is the best for me. He may be “masungit” at times but that is something he doesn’t do intentionally. It just shows due to the stress of a day’s work I suppose.  I would like to remember Dad that way. I don’t want to be haunted by the 11 days that we saw him suffering in the hospital.

Those 11 days were the hardest days of my life. 28 years of loving Dad to be cut short by 11 days of agony. Sometimes I get to thinking that it might be better if Dad was taken away abruptly. Maybe that way, he would not have suffered. Maybe it would be much easier to accept. But things happen for a reason I suppose. Maybe there is something underneath it all. Those 11 days made us whole. Those 11 days made us strong. These were far from becoming before those 11 days hit us. 11 days with Dad at the hospital made us realize something we should have realized before.

Dad is now at his final resting place. We can start going on with our lives again. But this time without him. It would be like starting all over again - a complete overhaul of our lives. But we can pick up the pieces again, just with Dad at the background.

Whatever happens next depends on how we handle the situation ahead of us that was brought about by 11 days of nightmare. We can cope because we have to. And with that I say, que sera sera.

Goodbye Dad…

Saying that was the hardest of all because I know I won’t be seeing you again. But it was the best thing also because I know you’ll be free from pain and aches. I am happy with that. And finally you get to meet the Big Boss. He’ll be happy to welcome you because you have been the best dad to three children who will surely miss your presence. Watch over us especially Chet because I can feel his pain more than anybody else. He cries and his tears do not wash away his sorrow. In time, we’ll all heal, but you’ll stay vivid in our memories. Dad, you’re the best. I love you. I wish I could have said that when you were still able to hear it. But I do not regret anything because I think I have shown what I should have told you.

Thank you Dad for all the good memories. I will always cherish them and I will tell your grandchildren all the things they need to know about my Hero…You are my Batmat and my Superman. Thanks Dad.

And may you be with the Big Boss as I close this note.

I love you Dad. Goodbye! 

Raising Money and Not My Blood Pressure

It has been 8 days since dad was admitted to the Coronary Care Unit (CCU) of St. Luke’s Medical Center (SLMC) – eight days of little sleep, lots of stress, and crying tears of infinite supply.

Dad is doing what is least expected of him. He is fighting for his own dear life in ways only a miracle from God could ever explain. And he is showing good signs of coming back soon. We just hope things get better for him because we miss him so much.

Eight days and our hospital bills have rocketed to an awesome Php 645,000! I have never held such a big amount in my entire 28 years of existence. And that is just a partial billing because up to now there is no guaranteed day when dad will be discharged from the CCU. To top it all, SLMC is asking for a partial settlement of the bill ASAP. The last one has put us thinking from the depths of our thoughts: Where in the world will we get that partial payment at this time of the year? That and all other thoughts mixed with dramatic background music and a cup of coffee (black and sweet) has got me writing. I need to let this all out before I sense another migraine coming.

I get to think too that maybe things have a way of happening really. And that I do not possess what it takes to comprehend why things happen the way they do. It confuses me to ponder and it just breaks my heart why when I am about to feel good about my life, shit pours and when it does, it pours good – pretty confusing really.

In the midst of what’s happening to me and my family, I want to keep a straight mind and think of ways to raise money instead of raising my blood pressure. It sure won’t be good to follow my dad to the CCU right now. And it surely won’t do us any good to despair. So help me God and help my dad as well.

The teacher’s enemy no. 1 becomes a teacher

I never dreamed that one day I’d go into teaching until now. It was the last thing on earth that someone of my (behavioral) character (C’s and D’s for that matter) would do. Yet, I will find myself in front of a class of ChE students come June 15. What?!?!? My professors in college would have uttered! Oh my!!! would probably be the reaction of my high school and (especially) elementary teachers. I would be very understanding of those reactions because I have always been the opposite of what a teacher’s pet is. I am very guilty of that but I suppose I couldn’t really help it during those days. And now, I will find myself in their shoes. Karma? Nope. A calling then? Yes.

I have just attended the second day of a two-day Faculty Development Seminar given by the Batangas State University as I write this entry. And what stuck in my mind was one Dean’s remark that teaching is a vocation. She said that as corny as it may sound, that’s what teaching really is. And I believe her. I am called to do this. Try as I may have done to develop a disguise of a bad student before, I will be a teacher after all.

June 15 will be the start of a very frightening yet exciting event of my life. I will teach. Frightening because I don’t know what lies ahead of me in this career. Exciting because I will get to explore the academe in a whole new perspective. I haven’t really absorbed the entirety of my decision to accept the offer to teach until now. The seminar was a big help indeed (even though I have slept some during the long hours of speeches by the speakers).

I am looking forward to the first day of class. I am excited to know what it feels like to be standing upfront this time. But most of all, I am highly anticipating the eagerness of these students to learn from what I have to teach them. So mote it be!

Y Speaks (everyday conversations with a 3-year-old girl)

Talking everyday with my eldest Ysabelle does make my day complete, although sometimes she talks nonstop I can’t keep up with her stories. The conversations I have with her may not be the most intellectual one, but when she starts speaking, my ears are sure to hear something very very interesting. That’s why I decided to document these conversations with her.

And for my first entry into the Y Speaks series, Ysa is now super interested in colors. She asks about the colorof just about anything that catches her eyes. Here goes:

Y: Mama, anong kulay to? (Mama, what color is this?)

M: Yellow.

Y: Very good Mama! Pwede ka na pumasok sa school! (Very good Mama! You can now go to school!)

There you have it!

Another wedding in Manila

We attended another wedding in Manila; this time, the church is in Quezon City and the reception was held at Wack Wack Club House, San Juan. It was my niece’s wedding.

The event was formal so I had to wear the same dress I wore on Nixie’s wedding. It was just like me doing de javu with that dress; only this time, a different set of folks are there to see me. Anyways, I am attaching these photos for your viewing pleasure!

That’s me with my mom.

My mom, Chet, Ysa, my nephew Drew, and that’s France walking around town.

These two kids are having the time of their life walking around and posing inside the church while Sasha and Eway are saying their vows.

Me and the kids. Look at me; I am getting thin! He he he…

With Tito Chet.

That’s Mama and France.

So there you have it. The three of us, Mama, Ysa, and France, went to Cubao for a 3-day hiatus from Batangas life. I sure hope we could do this more often. And I sure wish to do more posts more often. Sigh!

Dede: Tales from a Breast-feeding Mom

Giving birth to two girls via the C cut is something, but breastfeeding tells a different story; a more interesting story indeed!

I have always believed in the power of breastfeeding. That’s why I try to breastfeed my two girls; unfortunately for my first born, I was only able to breastfeed her until her 2^nd month, when we had to transfer her to my parents’ place (as I was about to get back to work) because we were afraid to leave her to a yaya when we were still staying in Betterliving. A good thing, though, is that I was able to give her “colostrum”, which is the important substance found in breast milk.

My second child is lucky to still get the benefits of breast milk as I am up to now breastfeeding her. Yes, at 11.5 months, Jet Li still feeds from me. She just drinks formula milk when I have to be away from home. And it is just recently that I had my period back, due to breastfeeding I suppose.

I am writing this as Jet Li wakes me up to breastfeed in the middle of the night: 2:45 am to be exact. Yup, we have been doing this since she came home from the hospital. They say this is an unholy hour, but I don’t mind really. I mean, I am already used to it, and she needs it so who am I to object? And so to pass the time, I thought maybe I should write something about this. So here I am in front of the laptop, in the middle of the night, writing about my experiences with breastfeeding.

When Scout was born, I was already determined to breastfeed just like what my mom did to us three siblings. It was very difficult the first time. I can say that because I hardly had the difficulties of first-time breastfeeding with Jet Li. I guess, sore nipples are the first hindrance that moms experience when they breastfeed. I cry with the pain because it is very uncomfortable to start with. My nipples got so sore it hurts to wear a brassiere because the wound will stick to the bra fabric. Then my mother-in-law told me that it would be the baby’s own saliva that will heal the soreness. And it was indeed Scout’s saliva that did the trick! Now I don’t have any difficulties with breastfeeding other than having less time for sleeping during the night.

And speaking of sleepless nights, it is more difficult to sleep when the baby is sick. Jet Li, during fever spells, wants to stay attached to my nipples for the rest of the night! So you can imagine sleeping while sitting and cradling the baby at the same time. Removing her from my teats will mean waking her up and starting a crying session. And it is during these moments when I feel that my child needs me more than anything else in the world. She can live without formula milk for a day but not without getting milk from me. That’s why I refuse to wean her even when my husband says it is just about time to do so. I will wait for her to wean herself; besides, she’s a good “breastfeeder”. She never bit my nipples, not even once! So I will give her a reward for that! No weaning until she feels so.

SM malls are so convenient for breastfeeding moms! And I am one of those thankful for their Breastfeeding Clinics! Jet Li and I are frequent visitors of that area of SM City Batangas. When we are “malling” and Jet Li feels the need to breastfeed, we just go there and do our stuff for as long as we want to! The clinic also has a diaper-changing area, which is ultra-clean! Of course, we have to sign a logsheet after we have finished our session.

One funny (and shameful) experience I have with breastfeeding is when Jet Li urges me to feed her in a crowded place: a jeepney, a church, etc. She wouldn’t stop positioning herself in front of my breast and pulling my arms to show her my “dede”. One time during the baptism of my best friend’s first born, Jet Li once again did that. She was like so irritated and was crying that I have to give in! That was inside the church and our friends were like teasing me that I was a Bomba star or something! Toinks!

Oops! I may have been carried away with all these breastfeeding stuffs that I forgot I was breastfeeding Jet Li. She’s finished and I am, well, sleepy. It’s already 3:30 am. I have to close for now; I will be up again after an hour for her 4:30 am snack. So, happy reading you guys! And good morning too!

i am not a cry baby…i’m just making faces…

this is the life i have (behind bars)…for now.

but wait till i grow up…

that won’t be long…i’m turning 1 next month and it’s a start…

but for now, i have to endure staying behind bars…oh bars!

forced hiatus

i haven’t the time to visit this new site and my other sites as well…things keep happening unexpectedly and I am rarely able to answer mails except those that need urgent replies…

i have something to post, but I don’t have the time to post it…sigh!

anyway, I am posting this short note lest you people think I am gone…ha ha ha! as if people are reading my stuffs here!

so there…i am on forced hiatus…but will be getting back soon

keep visiting you guys! I appreciate the time you spend checking me out

i am a smoker…so is my dad.

a new one

“every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end”  (Closing Time by Semisonic)

closing time for my old blog. i am moving here. where i can write of old things in a new way (i hope) and of new things in my usual way.

my life needs some overhauling. i will start from here and hopefully move on to a better me: for my kids, for my husband, and especially for me.

so much for a debut entry.

this is it!

whoah!