funny thing(s) happened on the way to...

We Filipinos are a funny people. Really. We have to be the absolutely funniest people there is…well, as far as giving directions is concerned. If you haven’t tried asking for directions in Manila (or anywhere else in the Philippines for that matter), I strongly suggest you try getting lost (literally), just for the heck of it, and ask for directions to wherever. One or more, if not all, of these will happen:

- the Pinoy will look up/ahead, squint as if deep in thought, and after a few thoughtful moments, shrug or shake his head;

- the Pinoy will look up, north/south/east/wast, nod his head and pout his lips at that particular direction;

- the Pinoy will point a finger, with outstretched arms, in a certain direction and say, "dun" (there) without saying if it's 100 meters or 1 kilometers straight, left, right or two or so blocks "dun";

- the Pinoy will say "diretso lang" (straight ahead).

"Diretso lang" is my favorite so far. This funny thing happened on the way to Marriott Hotel in Pasay where Miles, Ricky, Isabel with Nana and I were to meet our "uncle" Jun whose family I stayed with while in Hawaii. We've never been to the Marriott Hotel and were not familiar with the area. So I asked around. The first people I asked all said the same thing - "dire-diretso lang".

I stared at them as if they were aliens and so they explained, this time much longer but nowhere clearer, "Edsa, diretso, u-turn, diretso uli, kaliwa, diretso uli, dun na!"

"Yeah."

So I asked another friend and he said the same thing, "Diretso lang"

"Huh?" I asked dumbfounded.

He repeated it, slowly this time as if this will make things clearer for me, "diiiireee-diiiirrretsooo laaaang."

"Oooo-kaaaay!"

So, armed with these useful information, my sister took the C5 Road (where C5 was, of course, nowhere in the directions given us) and we ended up right back in Edsa where she drove, like the directions said, straight ahead. She's so much more confident and better with directions so we finally get to the Marriott Hotel/Resorts World for some dinner and catching up with "uncle" Jun.

Dinner was great but it was finally time to go home. Ricky brought his own car so Miles and I (we forgot to ask Ricky for directions) were once again in wonder on how to get back where we came from. We asked the parking attendant how to get to Edsa. Before the attendant could even answer, I thought to myself , "Let me guess - diretso lang?"

And sure enough, he said, "Diretso lang, ma'am!"

Miles drove "diretso" for the first 200 meters, after which we came to a fork on the road. After careful studying and a few "enie-minie mo's", she took the road on the right and it was right! It was "diretso" going home from there.

Aren't we Filipinos just the funniest?

my first Valentine

I’d like to share this short prayer I had Valentine's day. _________________________________________________

Lord, I know it’s been a long time since I wrote to You. I’m sorry. But I know you hear my prayers. Today though is special.

I’d like to thank You for this happy kinda sad feeling as I remember dad today, Valentine’s day. It’s his birthday too and had he been alive, this day would have been one great celebration. It still is something to celebrate and I do (celebrate it). Thank You for giving him to us albeit only a short time…but it was a wonderful, fun, funny, amazing time. He loved You and Mama Mary so much that he wouldn’t have allowed Miles and me to live life not knowing You and Your loving Mother. His love for You was the greatest gift he could have given us.

I miss him terribly! I miss mom and dad, it hurts! But knowing that they’re with You takes the heartache away and brings with it a certain kind of joy I simply have no words for. I know that they're with you - for how can they not be when they spent their lives on earth loving and living for You? They loved You…but You loved them first, and I smile at that, Lord.

Thank You for my very first Valentine – my dad. I will forever love and miss him! Embrace him for me, please?

on Eat, Pray, Love (part 1)

There has been much hype about this book, "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. When I first saw and heard the author's journey in an interview by Oprah, I knew I just had to get hold of the book. When friends just couldn't stop talking about it, my curiosity just got all the more piqued by it.

So get hold of the book I did. It usually takes me a day (or two) to finish such novels. But with this book, it's taking me forever! The book is divided in 3 sections, one for each country (and phase) she visited during her self-inquiry - starting with Italy (Eat), then India (Pray) and Indonesia (Love). I started more than a month ago and I'm still reading Italy!

Every page out of her life (at least in Italy) seems to be a page out of mine. I can't help but give in to flashes of pensive reflection on own past as she talks about hers. When she started her story and talked about being on the bathroom floor at 3 am, on her knees, praying, sobbing, I remembered moments when I was down on my knees, on the bathroom floor, sobbing quietly lest anyone hears me. Of course our sobs were for entirely different reasons - her for the death of her marriage; mine for the death of my mom. Many more such pages out of her life seem to mirror some of my own thoughts and adventures (but that's for another post).

Though some of our thoughts and experiences are alike, we cannot be more different people. Take her views on love and men for instance. She writes, "I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. . . . I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself . . . Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.”

Whereas she is quick to love men, I tend to be a skeptic where men are concerned. I look hard, scrutinize, analyze, pore over and when I finally do decide to take a risk, that man, whoever he is, is long gone. But like her, I’ve had my share of heartaches and what she says about them is appeasing. I so loved it when, speaking of a broken heart, she says, “This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried for something.”

As she traveled across the globe in search for answers, I looked back at my own recent travels and the answers I got from them. In retrospect, it seems I can't get passed "Eat, Pray", or more precisely and literally, "Pray, Eat"... as in "Pray" the prayer "Bless us Oh Lord and these thy gifts..." and "Eat" the gifts. I can't seem to get to the "Love" part.

And this thought led me to further introspection and a new dawning of understanding... that this is so NOT true. I've always had the "Love" part in my life. I need not go far to see or to feel it. In fact, I'm surrounded by it. Of course Liz (the author) talked of a different kind of love, but I have it and am surrounded by it, nonetheless. I am here because of and out of love. It's in the smiles and hugs and kisses and tears. It's in the laughter shared. It's in the answered prayers. It's in the unanswered prayers. It's in family and friends. It's in the "I-love-you's" I received in response to my "Blah, blah, blah" post. God's love shines so brightly through them. Need I ask for more?

Well... :-)

more babes moment

My niece, Isabel, turned two last December. It's amazing how fast and how much she's learning, we could hardly keep up.

She still wears diapers but she has toilet trained herself and did not have any use at all for the potty trainer. If, say, we're out in the mall and she needs to go to the comfort room she'd say,"CR! CR! Ceeee-arrrrr!". And she has discovered and thoroughly enjoys using (more like playing) the electronic bidet at their house.

One time, we were on our way to the Little Gym. Miles, her mom, was driving and I was seated at the back with Isabel and Nana (Isabel calls her yaya Nana). She saw my rosary bracelet and grabbed for it literally yanking it off my wrist. She looked intently at the rosary, saw the cross dangling from it and said, "Sowi Jesus, sooo-wiii!" She then held the cross and kissed it.

I asked her, "Why sorry?"

Miles answered nonchalantly while driving, "Kasi tinawag niyang 'bad' si mommy."

Isabel said just as nonchalantly, "Charing!"

blah, blah, blah, blah

I remember a homily sometime ago, the priest asked us to say “love” every time he banged his hand on the podium. As his banging tempo increased, our chant “love love love love” soon sounded “blah blah blah blah” (go on, try it). His point: we ought to express our love.

Ouch! This is how I often am with family and friends – I don’t get to “walk the talk”. Come to think of it, I don’t even get to “talk” or say those precious words. I don’t know about you but I find it difficult to say the words (see…I can’t even write them). Why are we (or is it just me?) so reluctant to say them? Embarrassment? Fear of rejection or being vulnerable and hurt? We're so busy trying to protect ourselves we get too scared to take the risk. But love is a risky business.

I envy all those brave souls who are not afraid to risk it. Take my sister for instance. Her timing couldn't be more perfect. While I was writing this, she texted me just to say she loves me. Awww! Her efforts did not go for naught. Of course I texted her back. I said, "Thank you...but cash is better." hihihi

I remember my mom. Her days while she was sick were difficult for the family…that time certainly was most trying, emotionally and physically, for us. She was too weak so we dressed her, fed her, moved her to a comfortable position, lifted her so she could sit or so we could put her on her wheelchair. One time, she said to me that she hoped she got better soon so we wouldn’t have to be taking care of her. She was sick, she was in pain and all she thought of was relieving us of our “nursing duties”. It broke my heart. I hugged her and said that we were happy to take care of her…we were not happy that she was sick, but she had taken care of us and it was time that we gave back, it was our turn to take care of her. Taking care of her was backbreaking but I would do it (and more) all over again if given the chance. I said I loved her.

I wish I had expressed my love sooner. I wish we could have celebrated that love. I wish I was more patient with her and took better care of her. I wish I was a better daughter. I wish I wasn’t too late.

No matter what our relationship is with our family or with our friends, a word of love, appreciation or thanks or apology could spell the difference. Saying the words can be healing. Maybe not physically healing, but the words can heal wounds in relationships.

Life is short (as I have painfully learned) to waste our love on “blah blah blah”. Let's take a risk. I, for one, am going to risk it and express gratitude and love and appreciation TODAY. Tomorrow might never come. So... thank you!

stalkers!

I have stalkers!

I looked around me and found myself staring at a stalker...only to realize they worked in tandem! I have not just one but two stalkers...maybe even three! They seem to have an obsession for me of a different level! They're with me everywhere, day and night, and though at times I cannot see them, I know they're there lurking behind something! (See all the exclamation points I used???)

I tried getting rid of them but they're just too good at their game. For awhile I thought i had gotten rid of them but, alas I find them right by me. They're like shadows hanging on to me at every turn. I thought that if I lose one, I'll lose the other. But nooo, I was gravely mistaken. I lost one without losing the other. And now, they're both back at it again. This is getting to be really frustrating for me. Help!!! Help me lose them...the last seven pounds off my weight and those love handles - my freakin' stalkers! Grrrr!

February 14

It's February! When my sister and I were younger, we were excited for February to come. We looked forward to February 14 - it was a day of celebration! Gifts! Food! Our date? Dad! February 14 was never Valentine's Day for us - it was our dad's birthday. To top it off, February 15 was mom's and dad's wedding anniversary. So there was much to celebrate.

Dad may be gone now but February 14 would always be a special day for me and my sister - a day for celebration...a day for prayer. May I make a small request? As you celebrate Valentine's, please whisper a short prayer for my dad. He would love that. He was a man of God, a man of prayer.

In celebration and remembrance of my dad and his birthday, I'm sharing once again my post, "Dad". Thank you for your prayers!