my kinda guy

I’m in like again!

Just the other day I attended this thanksgiving celebration for a graduation of sorts. It was the first time I had seen the celebrant and he is, without a doubt, soooo good looking.

I've been asked a zillion times before about the type of guy I'm drawn to. I usually give a shrug of indifference and just as nonchalantly tell them I don't fall for any type of guy so long he's...well, "functional". I've gone out with and enjoyed the company of all sorts of guys - the sporty type, the silent/shy type, the sweet, romantic guy, the funny loud guy, the intellectual/witty kind, the confident-bordering-on-the-arrogant-guy. Heck, I've even gone out with a metrosexual and an x-man. I simply don't go for a specific type...at least I DIDN'T.

They say that as one gets olde... I mean wiser, one can't be picky. Well, I beg your pardon, I've just picked my type - and HE is IT. Clean cut, well-dressed, well-mannered with a quiet confidence, smart, a to-die-for voice , down-to-earth, and highly spiritual. It doesn't hurt that he's oh so good looking. And straight (at least I hope he is)!


But (yes, again, there's this ever present BUT in my non-existent love life), but, there is this tinee winee problem...his name is Father Te. Yup, he's a priest and the celebration I attended was a Mass he officiated in thanksgiving for his recent ordination (sigh!).

I think the universe conspired that our paths should not cross until such time he was unattainable. I mean, his last name is Te - can you just imagine if i ended up with someone whose last name was Te? I'd be mary ann samonte-te (go on, say it out loud). And it gets even more entertaining if you say it with a Visayan accent (no offense to the Bisayas)! The universe truly is smarter than a fifth grader!


So I guess this is the end of our story before it even began (sigh again).

funny deposits

I have this "simple joys" journal where I write all the things, simple they may be, that am grateful for on a daily basis.

I also have this "funny" account where deposits made are in the form of amusing or downright funny moments in my life. I'd like to share a few of those moments...

My sister and I went grocery shopping recently and she was buying all these different foodstuff and assortment of goodies. I asked her what they were for and she said: "I'm trying to fill up the new cupboards."

Cupboard is, of course, pronounced as 'kuberd' - with a silent "p". But she mispronounced it and I took pleasure in correcting her for once (she's usually the one correcting me to her amusement)

I said, "Its kuberd, not cup-board".

Miles, being stubborn about it, insisted, "It's cup-board"

So we went, "Kuberd" "Cup-board" "Kuberd" "Cup-board"

So finally Miles challenged, "It's cup-board...spell it"

I challenged back, "Ok, spell psychology"

Miles said after a thoughtful while, "Sige na nga - kuberd"


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One time, I was singing to my two-year old niece, Isabel, the Alphabet Song. I sang, "A, you're adorable, B, you're so ...
K, you're so kissable,
L, is the love light in your eyes.
M, you're so...
M, we're...eeemmM....eeemmmM, is....M
Do - a deer a female deer, Re - a drop of golden suuuuun, Mi ...."

Gosh! I have to review my ABC's!!!

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Ricky, my bro-in-law, tells the story of how Isabel sings the Alphabet Song.

Isabel sings, "A, you're adorable. B, you're so beautiful...B, you're not beautiful..."

Well, at least she knows her grammar!

cute, funny, cool

I was reading this book about this woman's search for herself. In the middle of her journey, she found herself asking, "What am I really like? What do people think I am?" I looked up from my reading and found myself asking the same questions. So let's see...

People agree I'm cute. Well, actually I MAKE them agree. I'd ambush family and friends with my question, "Ang cute ko noh?". They'd give me this dumbfounded, wide-eyed look and they'd reply, "HA?". I'd take that as a “yes” anytime of the day!

Members from my church orgs tell me I've guided them well. I've been called a cool leader....well, "ma-cool-it" na leader that is. I'd have to agree with them... I AM "ma-cool-it"!

For most of my life I’ve heard it said – I am funny. And for most of my life, I’ve wondered if people meant “I-say-something-funny-haha” or if I was just funny looking. I know of a friend who bursts into soft chuckles every single time she sees me about to visit her office area. And this happens even before we get to chat. Now, wouldn’t you be wondering the same thing (if you're funny looking) if the same thing happens to you?

And to say I’m talkative is so obvious and an understatement I’m not even going to talk about it.

Quite a few people who’ve read my blog posts think my posts are inspiring or touching or witty or amusing. I’ve nothing witty or inspiring to say to this…except I’m humbled by it.

Humble – now that’s one thing I’m not. (I guess you can tell from the way this post is going).

As I was mulling over this episode, it hit me that I haven't asked the one question that truly matters: "How does God see me?"

I may get the whole world to see me as cute and funny and inspiring but at the end of this life, it's how He sees me that matters. If He doesn't find my thoughts or words or actions cute, or if He's not pleased at how funny I am, or if He doesn't think I'm leading/guiding or inspiring people to move in His direction, if He's not smiling down at me, then how I see myself or what others think of me do not matter at all.

Beyond this lifetime (a mother's love part 2 / maui experience 4th installment)

Maui, Hawaii. They say what happens in Vegas - well, in my case, Hawaii - stays in Hawaii. I'm going to tell you anyway.

A year has passed since my vacay in Hawaii. The few family and friends who knew of my travel plans wished me one thing - that I find Mr. Right (or rather Mr. Right Now) or that he find me, whichever comes first. They were clear and specific and adamant about it.

My life mentor's wish for me, however, was more...cryptic. Double-edged, if you will. Prophetic even. In her e-mail, she wrote, "May you find what you're looking for..." I knew she meant something (or someone) else but what I found was more than what I bargained for. Her wish was a prayer answered...

It was a gloriously sunny day, like most days, in Maui. And like most days during my two-week vacay, I went for runs along the sloping streets of the gated community in Wailuku. That day, however, I went for a long, slow walk with Inang.

Inang was my "Tita" Tessie's mother. Family called her Mamang but I called her Inang. She was old and skinny and wrinkly and forgot things, like most old folks. But she was such a sweet granny. When we're left alone in the house, we'd share long talks - well, she'd usually do all the talking mostly about her life during the war, her Japanese father, growing up and her family.

That day, as I geared up for my daily run, I saw Inang looking on so I asked her if she wanted to join me for a walk. With a smile that brightened the room, she readily agreed and hurriedly went to her room to change.

As I went out of the house to wait, I wondered if Inang was the reason I was led to Hawaii. I uttered a short prayer and asked God, "Lord, is SHE mommy? Will I get a chance to do things with mom, through Inang, that I wanted and would've and could've and should've done with her? Will I get a chance to hold mom one last time? Will I get to know if she has forgiven me? If she even knew how I cared for her?"

The moment I whispered my last bit of prayer, I saw Inang coming out of the house with long purposeful strides towards me. She came to a stop right before me, looked me in the eye and said, "Anak, salamat ha...salamat sa pagalaga mo sa 'kin." It was my mom. And with those simple words, she gave me what I needed. Atonement. Absolution. Forgiveness.

I choked back tears. A lump formed in my throat and I couldn't speak. Arm in arm, Inang...or was it Mom...and I went on to what was to become our routine - long, slow walks along the streets of that small community in Maui.

No, I didn't find Mr. Right (Now)...I found something better...more than I bargained for...more than I deserved. I found what I was looking for. I found healing.

I told only three people about this when I got back from my trip - my sister, my life mentor and my spiritual teacher. I wanted to relish and cherish this amazing experience all to myself. But, after more than a year, I find myself still at awe at the remembrance of it, wanting to shout out God's ever merciful goodness and the force of a mother's love - beyond measure, beyond compare, beyond this lifetime.

John 14:27-28. 'I am leaving you with a gift: peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give isn't fragile like the peace the world gives.. So don't be troubled or afraid. Remember what I told you: I am going away, but I will come back to you again. If you really love me, you will be very happy for me, for now I can go to the Father...

Promises

God has a way of snapping me out of the blues and putting my views into perspective. Many a ways my Father talks to me – while in prayer, in books, mentors, friends, a song, a smile, an e-mail, even in an overheard conversation.

Recently, I was appointed to lead in preparing/organizing a recollection-seminar for our parish. The limited time, zero starting fund, lack of manpower and the dismal number of recruits for the seminar were making me angsty. I was beginning to have major, major doubts – on God’s purpose for putting me in such position, our efforts, our abilities, my trust. I never showed nor said any of my doubts to my members so I carried my frustrations by myself.

During our recruitment drive in church on one gloomy Sunday afternoon, I was manning our seminar registration table. Beside our table was a booth selling cds of the compilation of talks by a young inspiring priest named Father Jeffrey. The booth was a bit frenzied with people asking for signed copies of their cds.

I wasn't in the mood to join their frenzy. I felt just as gloomy as the weather. I was ready to call it quits. Things were not going well with our recruitment and our food sales fundraiser was put on halt. Then I heard a tiny voice amidst the loud crowd milling by the cd booth. A boy of about 7 or 8 was calling out and trying to get the attention of the young priest. "Father! Father! Bless mo ko!" the boy said animatedly.

Father Jeffrey looked up at this chirpy little boy, smiled at him and tousled his hair in greeting and blessing. The boy excitedly called out and ran to his mom and pulled her happily along to where Fr. Jeffrey was signing cd jackets. I looked at the mother who donned a smile so lovely and contagious as if telling the world she had no worries at all. The boy, with his mother in tow, said casually to the priest , "Father, may sakit ako. Bless mo ko?"

"Anong sakit mo?" asked Fr. Jeffrey

"Leukemia" the boy replied.

It was only then that I straightened from my seat to take a good look at the boy. He was wearing a surgical mask that covered half his face. But he was so happy. I saw happiness in his eyes. It broke my heart. I felt like crying but choked back the tears. The priest and the boy talked for a while, both seemingly in awe and wonder of each other. I couldn't hear the rest of their conversation - maybe I wasn't meant to hear any further. Maybe I was only meant to hear that short exchange.

The boy. His sickness. His smile. The mother's smile. These certainly put things into perspective. I was put to shame as I dared to answer, "And you say you have problems?"

I closed my eyes for a moment and said a short prayer for the boy...and for forgiveness. I once again allowed my struggles to overshadow God's countless blessings. Me of little faith. Me of little thanks. I recall reading this quote: “God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, grace for the trials comfort for the tears, help from above, light for the way and undying love”

Yes, there would be pain. There would be sorrow and rain. But He promised to give strength, grace, comfort, help, light and love. Am banking on His promises.

a mother's love

A mother's love is a force of nature to be reckoned with. It is unparalleled. Unequaled. Unbreakable. Beyond measure. And sometimes oh so funny.

I remember my first trip to the US of A many years back. I was in my early 20s and it was my first travel outside the country. My sister and mom had had their taste of vacation in the US and in Asia so I fully trusted whatever tips they had to give. No prodding or asking was necessary as far as my mom was concerned. She’d give her two cents’ worth of advice whether you liked it or not. And in my ignoramus state (as far as foreign travel), I hang on to my mom’s traveling tips as if it was a life saver.

My mom had all sorts of tips from luggage to clothes to food to money saving and what-have-yous. One of her very first and non-negotiable tips she insisted on was this: “buy panties with zippered pockets”.

I looked at her wide-eyed with disbelief. “MAY GANUN?” Apparently, there are. Granny panties with zippered pockets in front. Gosh! “What in the world do I need these for?” I asked.

Heaving a sigh of exasperation, my mom explained, “What else?” she started, “To put your dollars in.”

“HUWAAAT?” I exclaimed, still not believing she’d make my buy these granny panties. . . or worse, make me put my traveling money in them.

She did though… she made me buy the granny panties - five pairs in all, one for each day of the week. “Yipee!” I thought, “I’d get to wear regular panties on weekends!”. In case you’re wondering, I had them in black, white and pink. Let me ask something though - what’s worse than putting your dollars in your granny panties? It’s wrapping your dollars tight in a colorful, flower- embroidered handkerchief, that’s what! This surely gave a new meaning to the term “pocket money”.

I knew she just meant well, but “No way”, I thought. So being the obedient daughter that I was not, it was such a surprise that I gave in and wrapped my pocket money in a handkerchief and placed it in my granny panties. I did it to please her…hmmm, no, not really. I did it ‘coz I knew I wouldn’t hear the end of it. So off to the airport I went with my pocket money, all intact and safe in the zippered pocket of my granny panties. It’s a wonder my jeans fit me at all.

It was a long travel and the “stash” kept poking my belly. So, while on board the plane en route to the US, I decided to take my pocket money out of its hiding place and put it in my jean pocket.

Good thing I placed my “stash” in my jean pocket – the Immigration Officer at the San Francisco airport asked me how much money I was bringing in and asked me to show it to her. “Whew” I let out a sigh of relief. But as I dug in my pocket I realized one thing – my “stash” was still wrapped tight in the hanky! In double knots at that! As I tried to loosen the knots, the Officer and those in line behind me looked curiously on. It was embarrassing, to say the least! So finally I was able to take the money out of the wrap and show it to the Officer. I moved out of the line and moved on with my life...my funny life with my mom.

I miss my mom terribly - her strange show of love and her out-of-this-world bits of advice.

Yes - a mother's love is a force to reckon with. Unparalleled. Unequaled. And sometimes oh so funny (or maybe it's just my mother's love that is sometimes funny).

if only...at least

It has been sometime since that historic day. That day seemed like any typical uneventful Friday . . . until we learned of the earthquake and the tsunami tragedies that befell Japan. We were in the middle of work when we heard the news. We all stopped whatever it was were doing to take in what was happening. Everyone, in shock, had one thing to say or another.

Some said, not without dread, "Naku, kailangan magsisi na tayooo!"

There were those who prompted us, "Hoooy! Magbago na tayo noh!"

One, however, was more concerned with the pronunciation of tsunami and corrected "that it's not pronounced 'chunami' but 'sunami'" (Goodness!).

And of course there were those who fearfully called to mind the Mayan End of World Prophecy, "Baka nga magkatotoo yung hula sa 2012!"

Embarrassing though it may be, but the first thoughts that came to my mind was, "Dapat talaga mag-asawa na ‘ko...I don't want to leave this world not doing. . . something...anything!!! Heck no!" I even compromised my "list" and said to myself, "Ok na kahit X-men!” Problem is, not even X-men are making "patol". (sigh)

I know I'm making light of and downplaying a serious situation . . . a deadly serious situation. Truth of the matter, the images and footage that splashed on the internet and in the news horrified me. The thought of such disasters taking place here at home shook me (no pun intended). To say that it was heartbreaking is an understatement. It plain scared and saddened me.

The devastation that hit Japan made me see things in a totally different light. This has made me turn my “if only’s” to “at least”. So now, whenever I think -

…if only I am not alone, I say at least I have a sister and her family and my friends who, I’m pretty sure, care and love me. There were those who lost entire families;

…if only I were rich, I say at least I have enough to sustain me, and then some. There are millions in this world who are hungry;

…if only I had a better job, I say at least I have work. There are many who are without jobs or prospects;.

…if only my house is in tiptop shape…at least I have a roof over my head I can call my own. There are those who live on the streets;

…if only I had a newish car. At least my vintage (a.k.a., ancient) car has had its uses and has brought me to places and has been “of service” to many friends. There are those who walk miles just to get to where they’re going;

…if only I were beautiful…at least I’m cute. ‘nuff said!

We as a people complain just about everything - the weather, traffic, workload, finances, food, the government, the church, our bosses, being single, being married, having ids, not having kids, the noise, the silence. Nothing is ever good enough for us.

But armed with this new perspective, I have learned that there is an "at least" in every situation...even death. We will never know why God allows tragedies to happen, or the reasons for them, but one thing I do know and believe in...His plans, His actions, are far better and bigger than any of ours.