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Nakatayo sa gitna ng sangangangdaan at pawang hindi makakilos; animo’y naparalisa na lamang. Tumutulo ang luha ngunit walang maramdaman ang pusong tila tumigil na sa pagtibok. Sa likod ng isip nagtatanong, hindi mapakiwari kung bakit hindi na lamang tuluyang lagutan ng hininga. Ngunit batid and halaga ng buhay dahil sa mga anak na kinakailangang alagaan at palakihin ng tama. Nasusumamo ang damdamin ngunit wala ni isang anino ang nakakarinig. Nararapat na nga bang hiwalayan ang ama ng mga bata? Nais magpatuloy mangarap na maaayos ang lahat ngunit ang panagarap ay sadyang malayo sa katotohanan. Ilang daang beses sinubukan para lamang mabigo nang paulit-ulit. Bakit nga ba hindi na lang takasan ang lahat ng kahibangang ito? Ilang beses nagsabing tama na ngunit parang walang pinagkatutunan para muli’t muling tanggapin and mapaglinlang na mga salita? Tanga nga ba o nagtatanga tangahan?
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He would ask me at times, ‘How do you think our story will end?’ I never had a direct answer. Who knows? I can only hope for a happy ending. I didn’t want to think about the future as that is unknown territory. It’s painful to find myself in the end empty handed after filling my heart with so many beautiful dreams. So somehow, I taught myself to live for the moment. And wonder as each chapter unfolds. It’s more exciting. More thrilling. Less terrifying. Less daunting.
We met at the San Francisco airport about 3 years ago. I was in a hurry to check in my luggage as I was running late for my flight back to Manila. Somehow, after a week in the US, I got used to carrying my stuff by myself without any help from porters who were regular staples in local airports. I didn’t even bother to get a cart. I quietly stood in line and waited for my turn. As I was minding my own business, a man who was in front of the person ahead of me was trying to tell me something. He exchanged places with other person and moved closer to me. ‘Do you want to put your luggage in my cart?’ he asked. I acknowledged his gesture and agreed to place my bags on his cart. It was a long line after all and I figured a little company won’t hurt after 2 days of venturing on my own along the fisherman’s wharf, eating shrimp and chips, boarding Joe’s fine boat to go around the bay to see the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz and Ghirardelli, riding the cable car to reach the curvy Lombardi streets and eating out in the corner Thai restaurant.
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How far have I gone from the pits of wreckage? I was told not to look back but I see flashbacks of ashes falling upon myself. I scurry to leave it behind but I drag myself to walk past the grime. For a second I am immobile – or was it more of an eternity? For I walk but I feel like I am not getting closer to where I need to be.
Where my destination is, I am certain. But I cannot zoom past ground zero. I need to make peace with the deaths and tragedies. No, not like in the past when I escaped the madness hoping to start over with a clean slate. It never worked. No. For soon enough, I almost always find myself trapped in the same hysteria –likeDéjà vu.
How far have I gone from the stench of decay? I can still smell it from the tip of my nose. No I cannot lie to myself. I can say that it smells of roses and cupcakes but the stink will always grip my senses.
So now, who’s to tell me how far I’ve gone from where I used to live? Has it been far enough to say that I no longer live there? Or has it only been a short distance away that I have not even gone past my old backyard?
Filed under: Life or Something like it
There are simply things in life that aren’t meant to be. I have accepted this fact a long time ago so that I can easily move forward and start over from every ending no matter how difficult or painful it may be.
About three weeks ago, I have found out the biggest lie that I was ever made to believe in my life. Was I too naive to realize the truth? A man whom I have grown to love over the last three years is married and has a daughter. I’ve never suspected anything. He has introduced me to his friends in different occasions. During one of the gatherings, one of his friends even asked us if we both have kids and I said I have a son and he said he didn’t have any. I never really doubted him.
How did I find out, you may ask. And so it happened that he lost his phones and stopped texting and calling me — so I decided to look him up through the internet using his domain id. I guess no one can really hide anything nowadays especially if you’re actively using the internet and you’ve signed up for your own space in the virtual community. So I found him. I was ecstatic. I was ready to celebrate. What made me click another link – I don’t know. But I did. As soon as I landed on the page, I found a Mrs. H (let’s use this pseudonym) with the same last name and email address as his listed on the website. Now it was the first time that I’ve thought about the possibility of him being married. That was my first impression when I saw it but I had to press on and dig in more into this new-found information. Her mobile number was also listed. I checked Mr. N’s mobile number and I noticed that their numbers almost have the same last 4 digits — in which the difference followed the number sequence. It hit me. So it must be real. But I needed more proof for some reason. The data that was presented before me was thin so to speak. I googled Mrs. H. I saw an article in the internet about the extradition of an Abu-Sayaf who kidnapped M rs. H and Mr. N about 10 years ago. I was in shock. For I know this story about Mr. N. He told me about it in one of our conversations only that he left the detail of his wife being with him at that time. This was hard evidence as it is. But I wasn’t contented. I reckon that my mind didn’t want to believe that this is happening to me — that someone can lie to me like that. I refuse to believe that I fell for his traps. So I googled their daughter — Ms E. Unlike mom and dad, Ms E. had a web identity. Primarily because she is of this generation. She had facebook — but I can’t view so much information as she has a private profile. I only got to look through her friends. I found a couple of familiar folks from strories that Mr. N shared to me. She also has a twitter account. I browsed through her tweets looking for clues — what was she doing On Fen 17, Mr. N’s birthday? I scrolled down and saw a note that said what they ate at her dad’s birthday. Another confirmation that we are refering to the same Mr. N. But again, I needed more proof. She also had a wordpress blog. Silently, I told myself that I would firmly believe it if I find a photo. So I read through her blog and learned that she’s been here in the Philippines for a short mission and she’s a Christian — in love with Jesus just like me. After several blogs — I saw it. A picture of Mr. N with Mrs H! In Barcelona! So that’s what he was doing in Barcelona! I was stunned. I was numbed. I couldn’t feel anything. I had to force tears in my eyes because I know that I should feel hurt. In the inside, I felt nothing. I didn’t sleep that day because of all those truths that I found. I went to the office and worked as if nothing was wrong. Life must go on.
And then I realized that Dennis and I have been praying for Mr. N for several days because I thought his cancer has relapsed. I was worried. I felt a great urge to find out how he was doing that I was ready to go to the States to see him in person. I needed to rest my soul and know whether he’s well and in good health or not. If he was, then great. I would’ve loved to spend good times with him. If not, then I would’ve loved to be there to care for him.
I found out a truth that I wasn’t expecting. But somehow this truth was God’s way of answering my prayer. I haven’t shared this with Dennis though. I guess I wasn’t ready for his reaction. I guess I didn’t want him to feel bad for me. I’ve told two good but distant friends about it. Just because I know I needed to share this with someone.
It’s not meant to be. It must end. But I must go on and find a new beginning just like in the past.
Filed under: Life or Something like it
My dearest son,
I am a single mom. Being only 5 years old, I know that you can’t understand what that means yet, although I am not quite sure if you will when you grow older — many people from different ages don’t. Simply put, your dad is not with us to be with our family. It doesn’t necessarily mean though that you don’t have a dad as your Grandpa has been there to love you like your dad would have. I’m sure you feel much love from him as you refer to him as your dad many times and I don’t correct you because I think, structurally speaking, he is your dad. However, I know that sooner or later, you’re going to ask me about it. I’ve cried a number of times thinking about the day when you ask that question. It scares me. It hurts me. It cuts deep in my heart. Because I know that you deserve to have a father. You deserve the best in life. And to me, coming from a broken family myself, having a mother and a father in the family is one of the greatest things that a person can have in life. So for not being able to provide you with that, I apologize. I do not want to justify how things turned out but rather tell you that your dad and I loved each other for years before we parted ways. He is my first love, my childhood sweetheart — the man I have dreamed to spend the rest of my life with. But life has a way of teaching us a lesson. I learned then that I do not have full control over the circumstances in my life; that no matter how much I tried to fight for our relationship, I did not have the power to change how things were. So from that day forward, I learned to surrender control to the Lord. He is the only one who has absolute power over everthing. He is the only one that we should trust with our life, afterall, he’s our Creator. We live to glorify His Name. I have come to accept that your dad and I can no longer be together without bitterness in my heart.
Motivated by the will to raise you in a spritually anchored home, my search for fellowship with people who can guide me to become a better Christian began. And as the bible say, ‘Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you’ (Matthew 7:7) — not long after I made that decision, the Lord has given me an opportunity to join CCF through a college friend, whom I haven’t talked to for years. God has paved the way for our paths to cross. Along the way, I have met many other Christians who want to grow their relationship with the Lord. They have guided me and helped me see the Light in the darkness and pick myself up when I stumble. I highly advise — and I pray, that you also find the value in having a close circle of Christian friends.
My prayer is for your to grow up as a godly young man. I pray that you will always feel the love of a father from the Lord God — that you may never feel fatherless.
I love you.
Mom
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I remember bits and pieces now, how I decided to take this road. It was a choice I had to make for my son as I wanted him to grow up with moral values – with a spiritual anchor that would keep him from wandering to treacherous places. I deliberately turned away from what I was before because what I was before was someone not fit to guide a child to proper manhood. It’s easy to recall the subtle yet wild circumstances I’ve been in where I placed myself under fire. A life not particularly known to many, I had. You can call it double life so to speak. Why it has turned out the way that it had I must go further down memory lane to find out. And I’m not sure that I want to go back to it alone. It would be better if I have at least one soul that I can relate myself to and can help me decipher my past to reconstruct my present so I can make sense of all that I’m going through today.
Filed under: Uncategorized
There are voices in my head lately, whispering distant thoughts that bring memories from what I used to be. Somehow it seems hard to hear exactly what it tells me. Somehow it seems so loud yet so faint that it escapes my understanding. What did I used to be? I cannot even feel what it was like anymore. I feel stripped from my former self. This becomes utterly disturbing as I realize that there’s no way of knowing who I am in the present without a clear recollection and recognition of where I came from. What I now reckon is that I’ve evolved into this machine like person operating under the premise of mere survival and conformity to the society. I do not dislike it, how can I when it offers structure and order to things? But the program built in my head to continue living in this fashion is waning down. Maybe there was a virus attack of some kind or perhaps just the natural wear and tear after all, it’s been nearly 6 years since I started warping into the age old accepted world. Something tells me that this is not how I imagined life to be. Something tells me that this was not who I was before. Something tells me that this is not the path that I should take. I hear these voices… but they get lost in the noise of the hustle and bustle of everyday living.
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Filed under: Uncategorized
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