Yung pag umuwi ka na umiiyak, tatanungin nya sayo kung sino nagpaiyak sayo at sasabihan na sapakin mo the next day. He’s the kind of Dad na alam mong protektado ka, at walang pwedeng manakit sayo when he’s around. His word was the “law”, hindi ka pwedeng mag dahilan or umapila, it’s always either yes or no, bawal ang maybe. Kakaiba yung pag disiplina nya, maraming palo ng sinturon sa pwet ang inabot namin, pero bawat latay, siguradong may lesson at pangaral pagtapos. Si Dadi, extreme sa tapang, extreme rin sa lambing. He never forgets any special occasion, kapag birthdays laging may handa at gift kami. Kahit wala si Mommy sa tabi namin, every year, may handa kami sa birthday ni Mommy. I remember that we used to go to Manila pag Christmas break, sakay kami sa owner jeep naming, going to SM mall, kaming apat na magkakapatid, tag 200 pesos ang Christmas gift from dadi, and we could spend it for anything we want. Sobrang saya na kami nun. Ang tatay ko, sha naglalaba ng damit namin, nagluluto ng food, naghahatid at sundo sa school, pati sa pag attend ng mass, ginigising pa kami para hindi ma-late. Pati procession, nakabantay, ayaw may makalusot na manliligaw. He taught us how to be strong and independent. Wag kang aasa kahit kanino. Pag kaya mong gawin, do it yourself and do your best all the time. Sobrang supportive. He’s our number 1 fan sa lahat ng bagay, but he never flatters anyone of us. Hindi sha vocal, pero alam mo na proud sha sa accomplishment mo. Yung smile nya at pagyakap tuwing may achievement kami, best feeling ever. Parati nyang pangaral sa min tungkol sa pag aaral ng mabuti at pagpapahalaga sa pamilya. Tanging edukasyon lang daw ang maipapamana nila ni Mommy sa aming magkakapatid. He stressed that family stays and sticks together through anything and everything. Pag pamilya mo, dapat kampihan, suportahan, walang pag aalinlangan, walang tanong. Blood comes first. Family is everything. I must have been quite a rebel when I pursued studying in Manila. Ayaw ni Daddy malayo ako. But later on, he understood. Love nya ako, there was never a question about it. Tuwing uuwi ako sa Mindoro, he always make it a point to cook my favorite humba. Walang kasing sarap ang humba ni dadi. Pati rin yung ginataang alimango na may pako. Nung nagpaalam ako na magtratrabaho sa ibang bansa, my Dad cried a river. He was so upset, but then he must have known that I won’t change my mind. Ayaw nya and he was vocal about it pero napilit ko sha, and I promised him that I will be safe, and I will work hard as he has taught us to follow our dreams. When I reached Saudi Arabia for the first time on May 22, 2002, I found a letter from him inside my luggage. My dad is the sweetest. Sa bawat pagkakataon na kailangan ko ng masasandalan, I always call my Dad. Tungkol sa work, kahit di nya naman kilala yung mga katrabaho ko sa hospital, I talked to him and asked for advice. He told me to be tough, wag magpapaagrabyado at manindigan kung ano ang tama. Don’t trust anyone. My Dad is the best mentor there is.
For 14 years that I have been working here in Riyadh, sa bawat pagtawag ko sa telepono kay Dadi, he never failed to ask me kung kelan ako uuwi. Kahit bakasyon ko sa Pinas, parati nya pa rin tinatanong kung kelan ako mag stay for good, kelan ako uuwi. In 2013, I received a call that he had a stroke and was rushed to the hospital. Para akong mababaliw. Not of all people! Bakit si Dadi???!! Umuwi kaming lahat to spend time with him. He became very different physically. There infront of me was my favorite military man, my role model, my hero. Sickness has taken the best of his health, and we were witnessed to his mood swings. We were there to assure him that he will be okay and back to normal. He recovered soon enough, thanks to my Mom and sis My for taking care of him. Not as robust as he was before, it was heartbreaking to see him succumbing to his moods and pains. I would look at him and talk about many things, sometimes he just stares back. I wished then that I could have been a doctor or perhaps an expert to read what was on his mind. Perhaps I could speak for him and tell everyone what he wanted to say. Madalas mainit ang ulo nya, I could understand his frustrations and I wish I could just hug him and tell him that everything is going to be okay. Pero pag okay ang mood nya, he tried to be as jolly as much as he can. Yung mga jokes na corny, nakakatawa kasi yung pagdeliver and you knew he was trying his best. My Dad is amusing. Yung madaling araw na makatanggap ka ng tawag na wala na sha. Yung maraming kurot sa sarili mo para gumising and realize na panaginip lang. For the first time, I run out of words to describe how I feel. Sobrang lungkot. Ansakit ah. Yung lungkot na parang hindi mauubos, hindi matatapos. Yung sakit at bigat sa dibdib na kahit araw araw mo maramdaman, parang hindi ka masasanay. We were not ready and we will never be. Why didn’t you teach us how to let go? Sabi nila, we have to be thankful dahil kasama mo na si God. Dapat daw maging masaya kami dahil hindi ka na mahihirapan. If you’re leaving us was for you to get rid of all the pain, I pray for peace and comfort that you truly deserved. I will see you again someday and I will give you a big hug like I always do. Parati mong tinatanong kung kelan ako uuwi. You are my home Dadi. And my life will never be the same ever again. I love you so much Dadi, and you will always be in my heart and in my thoughts wherever I may be. Memen
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"If I can see the moon here and I also saw it while I was there right where you are, why does it feel like you're so far away?"
My six year old daughter asked and I didn't know how to answer. She was sick and she's asking me to go home. I had to send my kids to Mindoro because it was not possible for us here in Riyadh to sponsor a maid anymore. It was one of the hardest decisions I had to make in my life. Being far from those you love is sad but not being able to be there when they need you is heartbreaking. Many times when I think of them, i could only cry. Helpless, homesick, restless. When my eldest had to face difficulties at school, I wanted so badly to hug her and tell her that everything will be okay. But I couldn't. When my baby got sick and was rushed to the hospital, I was crushed. I wanted to be there for her. I just wanted to hold her tight and tell her that angels are watching over her and she'll be alright. But I couldn't. The most painful consequence of having to work abroad for your family is not missing reunions or weddings or birthdays or anniversaries but being away when your loved one needs you most. Sometimes my kids refuse to talk to me, saying they miss me more when we do chat. My eldest always asks me how many days are left before she could see me again. She tells me how hard it is to have parents away from their kids and all her friends' moms and dads pick them up from school everyday. I feel her. My little baby keeps asking me to go home for her 7th bday and she says she has no other birthday wish other than to see her parents. My sister says she finds my kids crying sometimes from missing us. I wish I could tell her I cry all the time from missing them. I always have to keep my self busy and tire myself up so I could just be normal. No one told me it would be this hard. Nobody did. I know I have to think positively. I have to be strong because our sacrifices now are intended for them to have a better future. Whenever I pray, i thank God for the passing day because I know it becomes a day closer to the time I'll be with them again. I pray that God would bless my daughters each with a heart that loves and a mind that understands more. I pray that he would bless my sister and my parents with good health and patience while they look after my children. I stare at the moon tonight and imagine my daughters doing the same. I close my eyes and whisper how much I love them both to the moon and back. It really is far, but hey, one day is almost over again. It's a day closer to the time I'll be with them but sadly, it's also a day away from them that I could never get back again. Since the tragic typhoon hit Philippines a few days back, to say that I’ve been depressed with the news and all is an understatement. Watching the news and reading the feeds about my kabayans always bring me to tears.
Im so grateful that my immediate family was spared from Yolanda’s wrath when she passed by my hometown in Mindoro. For that I say, Im lucky. We are. But knowing that millions of my fellow Filipinos were struck the hardest beyond imagination breaks not only my heart but my spirit too. The tragedy affected families- a lot of them. Losing a house you built for years with your family is never easy. Knowing that your livelihood will no longer be there to support you financially for the years to come is unbearable. And if you happen to lose your loved ones altogether in a disaster, wouldn’t that shatter you as a being? And food, and water. It has been days since the typhoon subsided but relief hasn’t reached most of them yet. My heart goes to every mother, sister, daughter, friend, who was out there during the storm surge. I am also a mother to my kids. I am a daughter to my parents and a sister to my siblings. My thoughts are with those who fought for their lives up to their last breath. Salute to those who were able to save a soul in the midst of their own struggle. But this is not the time that we just hear the news and shrug it off. It is not enough to be sad for the victims and to always say “kawawa naman sila”. Yes, we should pray, but we should also help them with whatever we can. They say we should do our best and God will do the rest. May this storm bring out the best in each of us, who are more fortunate than the others. Let us share what we have to our brethren. They are our kabayans. We are one family. We are thankful for our foreign friends who responded to our calls. Pero ikaw, Pilipino ka rin- don’t you think it’s time to help? It’s my day. The usual greetings poured in from friends around the world, even from those who have been out-of-my-reach for quite some time. Sa inyong lahat po na nakaalala at bumati, thank you. Unlike previous 9/11’s (yeah, most people hate this day, but it’s mine anyway), I woke up stressed to be happy today. Aside from both my girls being sick and feverish, my Dad recently had a stroke on the left side of his brain. Because the stroke was sudden and unexpected, the family has been in many shifts for almost a month now. Though my Mom and my eldest sister takes on the job of taking care of my Dad, the situation has become mental and emotional toll for the whole family.
I was with him just about 2 months ago. He was lively as ever and he seemed healthy and happy. My sisters and I were with him during this year’s Father’s day. It was probably the first Father’s Day celebration we had in 15 yrs and the best one ever. Until the stroke happened out of the blue and there was no time to prepare. Being far from him at this time is an additional burden because I could not physically take care of him as much as I would love to. Every night and day, I pray for my Dad to recover. I pray to God to touch this man with his healing hands so that I could hear him talk again on the phone. I remember the last time we had a long phone conversation, he thought he was talking to my sister instead of me, and I just let him go on talking. I was smiling on the other line, because he was not a bit in doubt that it was me. Then, finally, he asked me something about my sister’s new house and I was not able to answer. He laughed so hard he was chuckling. Oh, that familiar sound I miss so much. I would trade all birthday gifts in the world to hear him laugh again. How can I be happy today when that man I love so much, the one who used to have everything under control could not take a grip of the things in his own mind now? He’s anxious and probably depressed, and I heard he gets the mood sometimes. What if his current reality proves to be his new normal. That I cannot accept and it always brings me to tears because my strong, smart Dad of 35 years cannot help himself sit or stand nor speak (or control) his mind clearly. Yesterday, I was told he fell on the bed again. I thought maybe he was trying if he could turn to the other side of the bed but he couldn’t. I feel for my Mom and my sister who are with him right now and I regret that I could not help them physically. My uncle and his wife are there for support right now, and I’m grateful to them. At times I feel that it would be best to hire a nurse and yet would that mean we’re paying somebody to take care of him while that's what we, his kids, are supposed to do? Every 11th of Sept. probably during the past 34 years or since then that I was old enough to remember, my dad never failed to greet me with a cheerful birthday greeting. The birthday cards and long, rather sentimental letters he wrote for me were always happy additions. But today, it is different. My loving Dad could not probably grip a pen to write a birthday card or a note for me. He has trouble saying my name and I somehow think that he must have forgotten my birthday too. Anyway, it’s 11th and nonetheless it’s my day of the year, and I still do believe in birthday wishes. So today, mine would be for my Dad whom I love so much. -------------------------------- When I was small, my Dad used to tell me “mag ingat ka, wag tatanga-tanga!”. It may have sounded harsh to everyone except me because I never doubted my Dad’s real intention of letting me know how much he loves me and how much he wanted me to learn how to take care of myself, especially when he was not around.
Most of my childhood friends teased me for having a very strict Dad who would not let me go anywhere without him. I knew then that he never wanted me to feel alone or perhaps he was thinking that I, being the youngest girl in the family, was too soft or fragile. There were so many occasions and parties I never had the chance to attend because my Dad forbids me to. Once, he agreed that I attend a late night birthday party of my best friend in high school, after he dropped me off to the venue, I thought he went home, but I was not quite surprise to see him after 10 minutes, chatting with my friend’s Dad and stayed the whole evening waiting for me. Finally, I graduated high school and my Dad didn’t approve of my studying in Manila. I was determined not to stay in our province. I had to convince him hard to let me stay and study in the city. For him, a family should always stay together in one place. But I had already set my mind that I will prove him how strong I am to live alone. I was lucky to get a scholarship in the university, but expenses in the city were just too much for a newbie- boarding house, food, projects, etc. At the back of my mind, I knew that I could just call my Dad and tell him I could come back to the province with them, but I was even more resolute to prove my Dad that I can survive alone. I didn’t complain nor let anyone back home think that I was having a hard time during my first year so I applied for a part time job in a fast food chain and I studied harder and worked at the same time. During my college days, I hardly had time to spend with my Dad. I worked during summer breaks and did my internship in some. But whenever I go home, I always spend time with my Dad and I always made sure that I let him know how much I missed him. After two years of working in Manila, I’ve decided to try my luck abroad. I blindly signed a contract to work as a Pharmacist in a hospital here in Riyadh. My Dad didn’t want me to leave. I remember so clearly how hard he tried to convince me to stay, but I was firm. I knew that I broke his heart when I left Manila for the first time in May 2002. My dad was in the airport with me. I hugged him tight and he hugged me even tighter as if he didn’t want to let me go. “Magiingat ka Ineng dun ha.. iba na ang mundong pupuntahan mo dun sa Saudi.” Those were his words to me before his eyes were into too much tears. It was perhaps a warning of how complicated life could be ahead of me or maybe his silent way of telling me how sad he was to see his youngest daughter leave him for long. That was ten years ago. I now have a family of my own and I have learned more about responsibility and commitment. I have learned not only to be strong, but more to be tough with life’s challenges. I have become more resilient with my decisions and stand up for things which do not only concern me but my family. I learned how to prioritize my children’s happiness over mine. I’m sure that my Dad will somehow be proud of me when I get the chance to tell him how matured his little girl has become. If there’s something in me that hasn’t changed all these years, it’s my deep longing to spend time with my Dad again. My heart breaks every time my sister reminds me that he’s changed so much in the recent months. Maybe it’s because of his health condition, that he’s taking a lot of medications. Or maybe it’s because of his age. For whatever reason it may be, my Dad will always be the best father in the world for me. He will always be my strong confidante, my soldier, my number one fan, my mentor, my idol. In my lifetime, he is the only man who has loved me unconditionally. My Dad will always be God’s greatest gift for me in this world. Happy Father’s Day Sarge!!! I miss you sooooo much! _ After a tiring 2 hour walking and biking at a park near our home, we were off to bed. All set to sleep, Aisha suddenly remembered that she saw a helicopter earlier that day.
“E-li-kan-ter talaga yun! (It was really a “helicopter”!)”, she was very happy telling us. We laughed over Aisha’s “e-li-kan-ter” for helicopter. Then Eric said, “Aisha, it’s HE-LI-COP-TER.” Aisha: E-li-kan-ter Eric: HE-LI-COP-TER Aisha: He-li-kan-ter Me: He-li-cop-ter Aisha: He-li-cop-ter! He-Li-cop-ter! Heli- copter! Yeheyyyy!!!!! We all cheered. That was quite a word. Suddenly, I just wanted to test if she can say “ha and he” well. Me: Aishe, say LU-HA (tears). Aisha, thinking, paused for a while, then she said, “LU…. YA”. We all chuckled. She couldn’t say “HA” correctly from Lu-HA. She kept on saying Lu-YA. Finally, we were laughing too hard and she was almost giving up for not being able to say it correctly. Eric, Alia and I were trying to convince her to say “lu-HA” over and over but Aisha kept stuttering: LU—YA. I told Aisha that she cannot go to school if she won’t be able to say it correctly. I told her that we won’t give her a fourth birthday party if she’s still “bulol”. She was furious! She threw her pillows from the bed. I just turned my back and left her like that- upset as she was. I didn’t know how long I was already sleeping beside her but facing on the other side. I suddenly woke up and I heard Aisha whispering behind me. She was murmuring softly on a sad tone: “he-li-copter….lu-ya…lu…aaa…lu-ya….ang hirap naman… heli- copter….lu—aaa…lu---yaaaaa… di ko naman kaya”. She was practicing!!!!! I didn’t know how long she did that. She just kept repeating the words and she had a hard time. I knew she was sad…I sensed it in her tone, but she was determined to say it right. I wasn’t sure how to react so I just pretended that I didn’t hear her and I went back to sleep. Next morning, she woke up early. I was preparing for work and she came to me, smiling. “Mama, listen…. Lu…HA… luha! Luha!!!!” she said happily! “Wow! Very good, Aisha!!!”, I cheered. I hugged her. My little baby sure did her homework last night and I’m a proud Mom as ever. "Life doesn't always turn out as we plan it to be... Most of the time, we need to thread the needle just to get by... but along this path we meet people who inspire us to go on persevering, giving us a reason to just keep trying... tomorrow may bring something different... something to lift our hopes and when the pieces fall into their places... We will realize that life turned out to be better than we ever expected".
Wherever you may be right now, I hope that you find the happiness that you so deserved. I will always remember the concern, love, and wisdom that you generously have showered me with. Thank you for being born in my lifetime. I was browsing through my blogs @weebly when I suddenly had the urge to view my previous blogs at Friendster. I clicked on the link and was surprised to see that the page is unavailable. Thinking it may be a network glitch, I tried refreshing the page for a couple of times to no avail. Until it finally came to me that Friendster Blogsite does not exist anymore.
Damn it. I had used Friendster blogs since I started, well, blogging in 2002. I had perhaps a hundred of so much fun, crazy, emotional and even freaky entries back there. I sent an email to the Friendster Team (admin) in high hopes that I would be helped out to get a chance to retrieve my blogs and the reply was: Friendster Team: We're sorry but we can no longer retrieve old blogs. We gave you a chance to export them as early as April. You should have exported it then. Shocked as I was with Friendster Team's "blaming" answer to my plea, my reply was: Hell yeah???!! How come I didnt even receive a notification email that the site was finally crashing for good? Don't you guys even have a heart to help your loyal users like me who had used your site for almost 7 years in each and every emotional outpour I had? What about all the memories I saved on that blog site? Doesn't anyone among your team know something not-so -technical called "back-up"? I was like "crying over spilled milk". I didn't know what to do and I felt so devastated. Felt like a significant part of me was forcefully taken away from me. D E L E T E D. Gone permanently. So today, I learned that I cannot trust anything or anyone to back me up and that I always have to be responsible for my own stuff. Nothing is really permanent. Another lesson learned- the hard way. Ouch!!! And for one thing, I so hate you Friendster! Riiiinnnngggggg!!!
Early morning, my alarm clock woke me up. Lazily, and with eyes still closed, I stretched my left arm to reach it on the small table beside our bed. Reach…search…tap… my alarm clock was not on the table! Still half asleep, I remembered that I kept it the previous night on the shelf because Aisha wanted to play with it. So, with a heavy head, I forced myself to get up to turn the alarm off before my little girl wakes up from the noise. As a routine (like a walking robot), I turned a soft room light on, took my towel from the rack and headed to take a shower. On my way to the bathroom, I looked at the wall clock and I was surprised—it was only 4:30am!! How come I was heading to the bathroom at 4:30 in the morning? Why did the alarm clock ring at 4:30am? Ahhh… for sure my kids played with it and they must have messed up with the time-setting again. Tsk. tsk. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep again although I have almost 2 hours left before I should wake Alia up for school, so I got myself a cup of coffee and went to the living room. I put my coffee down the table and sit on the couch. It was 4:45am. As I leaned backward and felt the headrest of the sofa, I felt relaxed and I closed my eyes… There was an abrupt scuttle of a hundred thoughts in my mind. I thought of what I would wear to work, will the weather be colder today, what snack should I let Alia bring to school, if Eric would want to eat breakfast at home or bring something to office, if Aisha would need to take a cough medicine, if my boss will come early for our meeting, if the executive committee will like the presentation I prepared the day before, if my Mom received the remittance I sent, if George replied to my email, when our electricity bill is due for payment, if we would need to find a new house to rent… etc..etc.. Isn’t it amazing how so many things in our lives seem very complicated, and yet remain simple? Like how fast a hundred thoughts could fill up a mind, things-lots of them- happen at the same time and still they seem to go by in tune. Somebody up there must be really busy syncing all these complexities and bringing them into the line. I remember how my life had been so simply undemanding before. I smile at the thought of waking up thirty minutes before work and feeling a slight hangover from a night out with friends. A hot shower had always been a favorite remedy. Oh boy, I miss those friends I had back then. I had to admit that everything changes. I learned that life never stays the same and so are the people we are living it with. Back in Manila, when I was younger, I thought being strong was just being able to assert myself, insist on what I want, rebel a bit, and stuff. But as I mature during more than ten years of my stay here in Riyadh, I’ve met a hell lot of people who had forced me to believe a very unlikely idea of being brave and strong- that it’s never enough that you assert yourself, but you also need to prove a hundred times that you’re correct and they’re wrong (I mean it-- a hundred times). Being tough does not only mean that you carry around a happy face but it’s showing people you are never scathed or hurt and you have to smile no matter how awful you feel inside. Is it perhaps because Im in the middle of a community of expatriates? - different families, different stories, different attitudes- we share the same drama of living away from “home”, surviving in an anomalous foreign workplace, and sometimes even trying hard to fit in a place which will never be our own. Among these not-so-foreign people around me, I’ve realized that I better be extra careful with whom I would consider friends and family. Most of them are only people- not even friends. There’s a bunch of users and abusers waiting for every chance they could get to bite off an ear. Even Facebook has to define what “friends” really are. I don’t buy the idea of categorizing a close friend and learning after a while that she/he has included me on his/her “restricted” friends. Will “real” friends do that? I guess not. So what’s the delete/ unfriend button for? Meanwhile, family is permanent and most of the time, it’s not even just biological. People and friends may hurt us but family will feel the slightest pain with us. Of course, family do not always agree on what we want, or accept what we do—but at the end of the day, a family will always accept us for who we are. I thank God for a beautiful family he has given me- the one I grew up with and the one I have around me right now. I wish I could see more of my friends and spend time with them. For the people around me who like, dislike, hate, love, or feels nothing at all, towards me thanks for being in my life too because you make me who I am-- probably not stronger but definitely more practical. |
HappinessWhat makes me happy?
People. Everyone around me who believes and inspires me. Life itself is a happy experience. The world is a happy place. I had my own share of struggles, life was not easy for us back then but my Dad taught me how to believe in myself, work hard , be kind and to be strong. He inspired me to go out of my comfort zone. He used to tell me that the possibilities in life are endless and so I believed him. l Iost him quite a few years ago but he has left me with so much inspiration to follow my dreams - to visit places I have only dreamt of or have seen in the movies when I was little and to do things I thought were only for the privileged few. Wherever I go, I always remember my Dad, wishing he could see me from afar and somehow be proud of me as I have always been so proud of him. Life is short and I promised him that I would make the most of mine. Travelling makes me happy and in all other things, I choose happiness. We all should- always.. Memen Archives
December 2023
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