Teacher Wanderer: 2007

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Thursday, December 27, 2007

Love

 

'Tis strange thoughts that mind was haunt, 
Brazen stance awash thy fortitude 
Naught besmeared with unsightly hope 
In deep slumbereth pierced thy mystifying reverie. 

Love is strange yet potent as a sword 
It could perforate one's heart when oblivious 
It navigates to feed thy soul 
It fills one's heart with anticipation. 

Love is indeed an ever-fixed mark 
The origin unknown yet it beckons 
To trust...to hope...total abandon 
Trenchant wound at the end has no room. 

It could lead to a zilch or magnificent ending 
It could mar one's soul beyond mending 
Yet, how one would know 
If the heart's door would not open? 

'Tis love that one feels alive 
The ember of magical sensation stirs 
The sagacity of elation burns 
Thread of passion connects two souls.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Perfect Love in a Crazy World

Let me tell you a beautiful love story...

 

Once upon a time, the Prince met his Princess. She was the woman of his dreams while he was the man she prayed for. They met in a somewhat extraordinary way- where computer talked in a techno world. It would be apt to say a perfect match made in heaven. 

More than the physical attraction was the meeting of two minds. The Prince was an intelligent and decent guy while the Princess was an innocent clever lass. However, the happiness was short-lived.

The Prince realized he had more than his share of raw pain caused by love so he decided "he can't fall in love". Getting old alone and lonely was better than to be vulnerable again with heartache. After all, he's happy and contented with his career and to have a woman in his life might just be a headache and trouble.


The Princess being naive as she was yielded to his will. After all, her experiences to male species was only limited to age ranging from 10-12 year-old. She was made to believe also that she would just be a nuisance in his perfect world. Therefore, she deemed it necessary to remind herself over and over again why she can't fall for him.

If you are familiar with Elizabeth Barret Browning poem, "How Do I Love Thee?", here's the Princess' version.

Why Can't I Love Thee? 

Why can't I love thee? Let me count the ways. 
I can't love thee to the depth and breadth and height 
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight 
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. 

I can't love thee to the level of every day's 
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. 
I can't love thee freely, he's too independent for that; 
I can't love thee purely, he won't allow me in his life. 

I can't love thee with a passion, he won't yield to his heart 
In my old grief, and with my childhood's faith. 
I can't love thee with a love I seemed to lose 
With my lost saints, I can't love thee with the breath, 
Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose, 
I shall but love thee after death but not in life. 

Monday, December 17, 2007

Journey Back Home- Naga City

The moment I learned about the death of Msgr. Jim, I knew that I needed to go home. He was more than a school director for me but more of like a surrogate father. Last week, I traveled after almost seven months back to the heart of Bicol, Naga City. During the eight-hour travel, I found myself clutching so tight the hand rail of the bus that my knuckles turned white already all the while praying intently to spare my life. (Anybody who knows the long and bumpy road going to Bicol could relate for sure to what I went through).


I found myself safe and sound back to Naga at around 6:30 p.m. I haven't even put down my bag yet but my mobile phone was already bombarded with messages coming from friends asking me what time I would be in Naga Metropolitan Cathedral (that's where the wake of Msgr. Jim was held).

My heart was filled with churning emotions. I've waited for that moment many months- to be with my friends and co-teachers. Five years is indeed long enough to call your co-workers "family". However, it made me feel sorry that I couldn't make it earlier when Msgr. Jim was still alive. He sent me text messages before inviting me to visit several affairs of the school but for some reasons I never made it.


THE GREAT SCHOOL MASTER
When I arrived in Cathedral at around 8:30 p.m., I received countless hugs from my NPS family. Their reactions upon seeing me were almost the same. Huge eyes greeted me with surprise followed by this utterance, "Niña, ika yan? My God you look so different." then hugs so tight. I should have had a camera with me to capture those moments. After the excitements ebbed away, the rivulet of tears streamed out from my eyes upon looking at the coffin of Msgr. Jim. White flowers and pictures adorned his casket. I couldn't help but to remember the last time I saw him. He told me to "take things easy and have enough rest". My pupils saw me the following day. They have this utter disbelief on their faces upon seeing me. (It made me think I must've looked like a zombie with my thin body before I left NPS for a vacation!)

Most of them said I have this glow in my eyes and I just simply looked healthy. I spent most of my times eating in my favorite restaurants with many friends.

Wednesday morning, I was still in bed when a very close friend and co-teacher, Tin-tin, called me. "Hi, Ninz. Can you give a eulogy for Msgr. tonight?" Thoughts swirled in my brain that I thought I went crazy. She was probably kidding or I was being delirious having been deprived of sleep for the previous night. "I take that as a yes. Bye and see you."

Later that afternoon, I had the time with our principal and she told me that it wasn't really formal. It would just be his family and NPS employees.

I should have known better! Msgr. Jim had a big contribution in the society so nothing would really be simple. I would speak to a large crowd! It was 8:00 p.m. when the mass started. I was sweating the whole time. A grade six pupil was the first one who delivered a eulogy. It was followed by NPS parent, a former teacher, NPS Faculty Club president, Msgr. Jim's friend and finally, it was my turn to speak.

My knees were shaking since it was my first time to speak in Naga Cathedral with a very large crowd. The next thing I knew I became oblivious to the horde of mourners. I was only thinking of the times I spent with the good director.

The following day, a mass sponsored by the NPS community was held. Right after, white balloons were released by the pupils in his remembrance. I was one of those few people who remained inside the Cathedral as his coffin was brought out for the motorcade going to Holy Rosary Major Seminary. It was Fr. Jay, one of NPS teachers, who closed the coffin. The motorcade was equally touching. I joined Mrs. Alpe (asst. principal), Mrs. Reyes (school nurse), Mrs. Olalia (principal) and her husband (Sir Alex) in the car and we listened to "The Prayer" by Celine Dion and Andrea Bocceli on the way to Major Seminary where Msgr. will be buried.

That afternoon, another mass was held with the Archbishop of Caceres as the main celebrant. I guess around 30-40 priests attended his funeral. He was buried near the Risen Chapel of the Seminary. It was a very solemn celebration. Msgr. Jim for 23 years served as an emblem of a paragon father to countless people. The Archbishop simply called him, the great school master.

Our Dear Msgr. Jim, may you have blissful rest in your journey with God.

ESCAPADES WITH PAO
I took that opportunity also to spend time with people who touched my life in many ways during the time that I was ill. Pao was one of them. She's a twelve- year-old girl who's the eldest daughter of our principal.

Pao became close to me when she attended summer class in Journalism where I was the teacher. She was with me when I was admitted in the hospital and she told me before she left, "Teacher, dawa po dai ka na magtaba basta mabuhay ka lang", (Teacher, even if you don't gain weight anymore as long as you live). I had lunch with her in Jollibee and we just chat the whole time. She's a bit matured at her age. Perhaps it was also because she's the eldest in the family. Pao made me realized what I've been missing the whole time, just a moment to let me know I'm on the right track and the friendship I had with her was sort of an affirmation to this.

POIGNANT MOMENT
I always thought that I was tough as a teacher. I was really strict that the classes I have handled were consistently awarded as the Most Disciplined class. It never entered my mind that I would formed a bond with pupils or anybody for that matter. My foremost concern was always that of discipline.

Thus, it was a wonder how I touched the life of an-eleven-year old boy. He was my pupil last year and a transferee from another school in Manila. I always knew that he was an intelligent boy. But in the first quarter he only ranked 22nd among 36 pupils. I found it my responsibility as a class adviser to give the "push" that he needed in order to excel. I talked to him several times encouraging him. Little by little he was able to make it on top. Now, he shines not only in academics but in co-curricular as well. He just won first place in Regional Writing contest.

Although, I always thought that I've just done my responsibility as his teacher, his parents thought otherwise. In many ways, they showed me their gratitude for helping their son adjust to his new environment. I had the opportunity to have lunch with both his mom and dad last Friday. It was a beautiful feeling knowing that your efforts as a teacher were appreciated.

It was so touching that they recognized me as a significant part of their son's life. On the way out of Star Mark (the restaurant where we ate), his mom gave me a card which will forever inspire me as a teacher. Let me share with you this memorable message from the card:

Dear Teacher Niña,
You deserve all the good things that's coming your way, and I know how much this means to you. You've looked forward to this moment for a long time. You've worked toward it (and you've worried about it)... and now it's finally here! I don't know of anyone who's worked and planned as hard or used their talents as well. You know how to set goals, use your time wisely, and get things done right.

You may not think those are unusual traits, but they are! You know what you want to achieve and you go after it-one step at a time. You work around the obstacles in your way, and don't let small setbacks discourage you. So it isn't at all surprising you've met your goal. Everyone who knows you knows you were meant to succeed... and a lot of people have been pulling for you.

Your positive outlook is contagious, and your determination is an inspiration to everyone around you.

From the Mom:
Thank you for touching his life in a special way. Thank you for that inspiration only you can impart. And thank you for being a part of us. We were not only able to find a school in NPS but we were able to find a home.


I shared this message not to brag but to let others feel the inspiration burning in my heart as well. This family gave me a "special gift" that made me thankful I chose the teaching career.

THE BRIDAL SHOWER
It was a bit ironic but for some reasons, I just found myself giving messages in front of a crowd during my visit in Naga. The last one was with the bridal shower of my friend and a co-teacher, Shiela. It was held Friday afternoon (Right after my lunch date with my pupil's parents). Shie's groom to be was also a friend and former classmate in grade school.

Giving a message for her was sort of a realization also- I'M GETTING OLD ALREADY! Shie and Chad best wishes and congrats!

SPECIAL NIGHT WITH MA
Ma gave me a special dinner in one of the coziest restaurant in Naga, Oyster Villa, on my last night of stay there. We used to eat in that place before whenever Rez would visit. After several months had the chance to eat again my favorite buttered chicken and pancit.

It was indeed a visit worth remembering in my whole lifetime. I'm glad I was given the gift of a second life to savor every moment now. Thanks to my brother and sisters who answered my needs without asking anything in return. I owe them a lot and of course to God, Our Father.

Friday, December 07, 2007

Tribute to Msgr. Jaime San Andres (The Great School Master)


"Niña, we always remember you in our prayers. Tomorrow we will offer mass for you. Be strong and pray and God will take care of the rest." (Msgr. Jim/May 31,2007)

Many knew him as Rt. Rev. Msgr. Jaime M. San Andres, NPS school director, the head of the premier Catholic school for boys in Caceres. I knew him like a father, a confidante, and a boss-exactly in that order.

Long before I first met him, his image was already painted in my mind. An icon of strong character with a very high regard when it comes to discipline. The first meeting was remote from what I expected. It was a witty bantering of words with the director known for being serious asking me about the meaning of my name which was according to him, "little girl".

During my first year in NPS, I lost my father due to cancer. It happened six days before Christmas and four days before his birthday. Msgr. did not only sympathize but made me understand the whole meaning of death. He constantly assured me, Papa was already free from sufferings and pain.

For him, discipline was such a big deal. I remember the time when he asked me how I define it. Without much qualms, I told him that being discipline means doing the right things even without the presence of others. After that, whenever we talked he would ask me about my views and suggestions on how to improve discipline of the students. I was inspired by his ways that I really made it a point to live up with his expectations by doing my best in implementing rules and regulations.

There was this moment also that I found myself crying with the "tough" director when I was beseeched with weariness due to pressures. Candidly, he showered me with advice saying that I didn't need to keep on looking for approval from everyone. He further said that being a leader means being ready to criticism since we would never please everybody. He told me to keep things in perspective and loosen up myself. I left his office feeling enlightened and encouraged.

The best moments were the intelligent discussions I had with him. He was a person who didn't make decisions easily. I learned by heart that whenever I would seek his approval in any project, I needed to rationalize my reasons. Opportunely, I never went out of his office disappointed.



I was blessed also to experience humbling moments with the director. There was a time that I was presenting to him a TV commercial which unfortunately, did not work in his computer. Msgr. without thinking twice went to my office (quite far from his office) to view the cd in my computer.

He listened countless times to my ideas and respected my ability to do things. I guess in one way or another he was instrumental in making me more confident with my job.

During competitions, Msgr. would constantly challenge us to bring home the bacon. He instilled to the students that Parochialites are good so it's only normal to reap achievements. Msgr. would then bless them for guidance during the contests. He was known to purge the best out of teachers and pupils. It was not a surprise really why Parochialites continue to reap awards in various competitions.

Three years ago, I accepted his challenge to bring home first place in the Regional Presscon. I never thought that it would be myself who would receive the honor. It was through him that I got inspiration to work hard for the attainment of my goal.

When I decided to file one year leave of absence because of some inevitable circumstances, I had difficulty requesting for his approval. He assured me that I would be given two whole months of rest without any hassle of work but I didn't need to leave for a year. Eventually, he agreed to grant my request but not until I submitted a letter promising to return after a year.

Msgr. Jim was one of those people who flooded me with prayers when almost seven months ago, I became seriously ill. An hour before my operation, he texted me though he had difficulty because of shaking hands (which was the effect of his heart surgery) giving me an assurance that despite of the malady that inflicted me everything would be fine and I just needed to have faith. He was right. After the surgery, I've never been healthier in my whole life.

The paradox of life is hard to grasp at times. My source of strength several months ago bid his final farewell last night. It was after a whole day of party that I received the message informing me of his death. I could almost taste the bitterness of what his death brings to his family and the whole NPS community- grief, tears, melancholic feelings.

Coincidently, papa died in the same month also during a party. Again, the tapestry of forlorn feelings was repeated. I lost a surrogate father, a friend, a confidante, and an intelligent mentor.

Regrettably, he would not be able to keep his promise anymore to celebrate my wedding. He told me once that when I find the right man, he would be the one to officiate the mass for me.

I could enumerate the wonderful memories I had with him but I don't think my lifetime would be enough to finish it. Now, as my heart mourn his death, I would just remember what he told me five years ago, "Death is the heaven's ticket of the life lived fully in bliss."

The familiar twinge of longing and emptiness is back after five years of losing Papa. I miss Msgr. and his ways of explaining things full of wisdom. For sure, the man considered as the institution of NPS would be a great loss to the whole NPS community.

Last night, while reading his text messages he sent me when I was sick, I couldn't help when a sigh of mourn escaped from my lips. Msgr. Jim would always be remembered by all of us...

To Our Dear Msgr. Jim:

Life has brought you many challenges 
many struggles and many hardships. 
The years left their marks as lines on your face 
and gray-hues colored your hair. 
Though the signs of life ebbed away,
your legacies would forever live in our hearts.
 We pray for you
a peaceful death, 
a death of days gone by. 
For you to slip away 
without pain 
and find a blissful rest in a different realm.
 Our dear Msgr. Jim, we will surely miss you this Christmas.

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Year 2007: The Chronicle



January 2- My sister, Dith, was stabbed in Ireland by a crazy man. She was in ICU for quite some time.

January 31- Three from my pupils qualified to compete in National Schools Press Conference in Baguio. One got 2nd place and two got third place.

- I was awarded also 1st Place as school paper adviser in the whole Bicol Region (with a teacher from Bicol University as 2nd place). There were about 400 school paper advisers who competed in the said category.

February 14- I spent Valentine’s Day with my three pupils in Legaspi City because they had training for the National competition. I gave them a treat in Jollibee after the training (What a sweet night!) Then they checked on some car toys in the mall (sweet indeed!).

February 19- Our 2nd day in Baguio. I woke up at around 2 a.m. with severe stomach pain. I could hardly stand.

February 21- My pupil won several awards in Radio Broadcasting Competition in Baguio City. That includes 1st place (Team Category/ Best in Radio Broadcasting/ English) and 2nd Place (Best in Infomercial/ Individual Category).


February 22- We went to several places in Baguio. I was in too much pain it was impossible to enjoy it.

February 23- My two pupils out of three won again all over the Philippines. Feature Writing and Photojournalism. We had snacks in SM Baguio to celebrate.

February 25- It's Family Day and our feat was announced to the whole NPS community which made my heart swell with pride and humility.

February 28- I went to the clinic because of stomach ache and dizziness. I was advised to see a doctor.

February 30- I went to an internist to have a check- up. First lab test- nothing's wrong.

February 31- We were given motorcade for our national awards. It was overwhelming to see my name all over the streamers in countless cars.

March 1- I had another check-up and several lab tests too. Except for my hemoglobin which was low, other tests seem okay.

March 2- Another check-up, another lab tests- nothing's wrong or the doctors were in the wrong track?

March 3- More lab tests but getting busy for the closing of the school year.

March 6- I decided not to go back anymore to the doctors- more of like getting tired with no clear results. Paper works were piling it was impossible to leave the office. My computer was attached with to-do-things.

March 7- 31- On and off fever and pain. Dizzy too. Paper works were killing me. Deliberation was going on and endless responsibilities- TV and radio commercial, promotional posters and leaflets, year-end school paper deadline, test papers and so many other things to prepare. My strength was completely robbed out.

- I went to Msgr. for the first time to ask permission to file a leave of absence. He didn't permit me.

- second time- still he didn't.

-third time he offered to give me the whole summer as my vacation without being assigned of anything. I didn't accept.

- fourth time- he called for me and told me he talked to the principal and he finally agreed to let me leave for a while on one condition- I need to sign something binding me to be back after a year.

March 28- We had dinner in Star Mark for the blow- out of one of the Most Outstanding Pupils. I asked the asst. principal, T. Alpe, why I was included to those who were invited for the dinner with the archbishop. She had this funny look on her face but did not explain to me. The CAE coordinator though told me that maybe because I worked so hard this school year.

March 29- We went to the wake of a friend's father. I sat beside T. Charie during snacks and she asked me if I have new dress for the grade six graduation. I said yes. In the car going back to Naga I was also asked by my coordinator if I have new dress and I said yes. She seemed happy. Something fishy was going on.

In the afternoon, I got my new dress but felt like the whole world crumbled upon me. I hated it. I was ready to tear it apart.

March 30- I was dead tired coz of so many paper works but compelled to make myself beautiful. Grade six graduation, so we all need to look beautiful despite of the swollen and black circles in our eyes. I was forced to use my dress last year!

-In the morning, I asked again the principal why I was invited in the dinner with the archbishop to think that it's supposed to be for coordinators and guests only. She's sort of hiding something and I could feel it.

-Something’s in the air I couldn't put into words what exactly. But I knew something funny was going on.

- Right after the awarding of honors for the pupils the CAE coordinator being the emcee was having sort of strange speech. Oh, my God! My name was called to be given special plaque of recognition for my achievements as school paper adviser. I couldn't move! Trece, a co-teacher accompanied me in going to the stage. The award was given by the Archbishop, and other heads of school. I knew it! It was a beautiful feeling. My efforts were finally recognized. A regret though because I wasn't able to deliver a speech since I was too astonished to think of one.

-Two of the awardees were an alumnus priest- Rev. Fr. Michael Dela Rosa and a successful alumnus- Mr. Gil Genio (One of the big names in Globe). I was the third one and no prepared speech at all!

- The dinner was spectacular and I was just simply enthralled with the surprise. They were all teasing me relentlessly. I was given a lift on the way home by T. Alpe, the asst. principal.

- In bed, though in pain again I slept in peaceful slumber.

March 31- Though tired the previous night, I woke up early for our Teachers' Intrams in Pasacao Beach Resort. I was thinking of giving a blow-out but never had time to prepare since I wasn't aware of the award. I just bought wine which was a gift last Christmas.

- We had so much fun and I won in several games. I was so fast in running that I couldn't imagine I was already terribly ill that time. I went boating too with some close friends much to the chagrin of oldies. They were so worried we were not permitted to go near the island I've been dying to reach. We also saw tourists in other private resorts, well it's indeed a beautiful place.

April- My sister and her daughter went back to Ireland.
- I didn't join the tour in Manila

- My mother had a stroke.

- I finally made the decision to stay in Batangas.

April 28- I bid farewell to my pupils in Journalism Class. That was our last day and my last day also in NPS. They gave me the best messages ever I've received in my whole life!

April 29- I broke the news to ma that I was leaving her. It was painful.

April 30- I travelled going to Batangas- for good. 

May 1- My bleeding started to get worst. My sister saw me for the first time after several years and told me I was dying because I looked so pale.

May 14- I could hardly stand. I woke up bathed with blood. The thick towel too was soaked with blood. I was in too much pain. I had my check-up in Mary Mediatrix, Lipa. I was scheduled for an ultrasound. The doctor said I might need blood transfusion.

May 15- I was alone in the room for ultrasound. Tears brimming on my face. I had bilateral ovarian tumors. As the doctor probed and poked the instrument my hope died that moment. I went out of the room devoid of emotions. I wanted to bury myself in agony. My sister, Dith, cried with my pain and promised unwavering support.

May 16- My brother told me to seek for another opinion in Manila.

May 17- I had a check-up with another doctor. I was scheduled for another ultrasound. I had the tumor-marker test the same day. They extracted 6 syringes of blood from me.

May 21- I had another ultrasound. Same results only that my condition was getting worst.

May 28- My birthday. I got my lab results. Normal CA 125 was 0-35 but I got 94.7-high. High probability of cancer. The internist checked on me. He was hesitant to give the CP Clearance for the surgery. At the end, agreements were made. I was requested to have CT Scan to check on the extent of the damage in my stomach.

We went to Glorrietta after the check-up to celebrate my birthday or to forget the bad news? I wasn't really sure. Everybody's laughing while we were watching the movie. I was silently crying. I felt like my life has no more hope.

May 29- I had CT scan. It was the most painful of all the lab tests. I was in too much pain I was in tears the whole time. Needle pricks were left and right. I was clutching so hard my rosary feeling like I was being robbed out of breath. I was in the room for about three hours.

May 30- I faxed the result to my doctor in Manila. I didn't understand any medical terms. We had lunch in Pizza hut. I ate plenty after several days of being in misery and besides the food was too expensive not to be enjoyed.

I went home earlier to rest and left Shayne and Dith in the mall for some groceries. The moment I arrived home, I kept on thinking back about the word carcinomatosis in the CT scan result. I immediately made research in the internet. It's widespread carcinoma in the body-or in short cancer. The phone rang and it was my doctor. She told me I was scheduled already the following day to be admitted in the hospital. I'll have surgery the soonest possible time.

That afternoon, my family and whole NPS family cried with me. They've comforted me in ways possible but it was just too much to handle. I could only cry and cry but it was impossible to feel better.

That night, my best friend Tin and T. Charie, our principal who's also a very good friend travelled to be with me. I wasn't able to sleep the whole night.

May 31- My sister, Angel, accompanied the driver in fetching Tin and T.Charie. The car was stoned and it has a damage. When it rains it really pours). Now, the problem was how to explain to my sister, Con, but Dith told me she'll do the explaining.

I was admitted in the hospital then received pricks and pricks and endless needle pricks. I've mastered how to receive it by clutching my hand tightly and closing my eyes then praying, "I believe in God..."

We couldn't find blood donor. We were forced to buy.

June 1- A mass was offered on my behalf in NPS chapel and other parts of the world through friends and family. Text messages flooded my cellphone. Calls too which made me cry and cry more.

My surgery was postponed. My doctor talked to me for a very long time giving me courage to face my dilemma. My blood transfusion also started. My sister, Baby, arrived from Subic (she attended seminar) and stayed the whole night in the hospital.

June 2- I woke up and couldn't breath. I was put in oxygen and received more and more needled pricks. I dreaded the time hospital attendants would enter because I knew they were about to do something painful to me! Potassium was the most painful IV of all. It made my arm swollen.

My sister, Nene, arrived from Bicol. She has with her some of the papers I needed.

I refused for my BP to be checked. My two arms were swollen and extremely painful. Besides, full of bandages, too, then the head nurse entered and I had no choice but to follow.

Afternoon was too much. I couldn't bear the thought of not being able to go out of the OR alive. I posted a prayer in my bed railing and prayed it incessantly.

My sisters were in agony too. I hated their looks when I was brought in OR at 2:30 p.m. I made them miserable.

I was put to sleep at around 2:45 p.m. I could hear myself singing mass hymns before finally drifting off to sleep.

I woke up around 7 p.m. (there was a radio outside of the recovery room so I knew) I cried bitter tears. I thought the operation was that short because they couldn’t touch anymore the tumors. I feel asleep again. Still too weak to fight it.

I woke up again at around 9 pm. On the way to my room. Everything's swirling. My sister, Nene, kept on telling me it wasn't a cancer. Or was I just hallucinating?

June 3- I woke up around 3 a.m. somebody opened the door of my room but nobody entered. I was too dizzy to stand and check. Then it opened and closed again. It happened for about three-four times. I tried to wake up my sister to check on it. She fell from the chair. Nobody was outside. I might be that dizzy but I knew the door opened and closed several times. Then nothingness again. I was still lightheaded.

I woke up at around 7:30. Still can't open my eyes for long. Fr. Jerry Orbos said in the TV. "You are blessed. Marami ka pang gagawin". (You will still do many things)

My sister finally explained that it wasn't a cancer and no organs were removed just like what they told us they would before the operation. The Oncologist and other doctors just cut through my intestines which were glued together to check on my other internal organs. Severely damage but curable. I won't need chemotherapy.

My blood transfusion continued then I had convulsion with very high fever. I was thrashing and writhing back and forth and it felt as if every cell of my body was on fire. Doctors and nurses were frantically trying to figure out what went wrong. More and more needle pricks again.

Good that when Shayne and Trisha (my nieces) arrived with my sister, Dith, my fever subsided. I had no food for about three days already and I only survived with different IV's attached to me. I was craving for good food badly!

My doctor cleaned my wound that night. It was gruesome. I felt repulsive looking at it. My doctor also showed my pictures during my operation. It was simply horrible and my stomach was stretched wide open by an instrument!

She told me I've never been luckier in my whole life.

June 6- No further complications so I was discharged from the hospital. My sisters, Dith and Con, and my brother, Nestor, paid quite a fortune for the hospital bills. Made my feelings more miserable.

Though I was in front of the car and it was reclined, I vomited the whole travel. I stopped the car at the middle of SLEX.

June 7- My agony in the company of medicines started. More than 20 medicines were my companion before and after meals, breakfast, lunch and dinner. I cried almost every day not fully understanding the reason why. I was grumpy and nobody could talk to me properly.

June 13- I had vaccination- anti-flu and anti-pneumonia. I had fever that night and despite of taking medicines that would put me into sleep, I was awake the whole night. Uncontrollably crying. There's an emptiness I couldn’t explain.

June 4- November- My dilemma continued. I was in constant pain. I was always in bed I already had bedsores. I also had rashes all over my legs and arms. I cried more- in silence. But I've started to gain weight. My appetite improved and slowly my body recovered.

December- My heart was in deep sadness brought by shining glimmering Christmas ornaments. Christmas carols brought tears to my eyes.

December 7- My mother and Shayne’s birthday party. I was busy the whole day.

December 8- Msgr. Jim, our school director died. He's very close to my heart.

December 12- I went to Bicol to attend Msgr.'s wake.

My co-teachers saw me for the first time after seven months. They hugged and kissed me and were just simply ecstatic to see me.

December 13- I gave eulogy for Msgr. in a very large crowd to the biggest church in Naga.

December 14- Msgr. Jim was buried in Holy Rosary Major Seminary.

December 15- I had lunch date with the parents of a former pupil. They gave me a gift.

-I also delivered speech for the bridal shower of a friend.

December 17- I went back to Batangas. A bit sick with sore throat and cough.

December 25- Happiest Christmas ever. -->

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Monday, December 03, 2007

Sen. Antonio Trillanes- Fallen Hero

My "Hero"

December 30 was supposed to be just another ordinary day for me. However, the moment I went out of the room to eat my breakfast, I knew that something odd was going on.

My six-year-old niece was glued to the tube not in the usual Cartoon Network but to the ABS-CBN's live coverage of apparently a stand-off in Makati of then Navy Lieutenant and now Sen. Antonio Trillanes.


She asked me innocently who's Trillanes which made me think, Trillanes is doing it again. I mean, I could start a very long bravado of the "nation's hero", but then I don't think the six-year-old perspective of my niece would appreciate it.

What about, "Oh, you see kiddo, once upon a time the country was in distress. The government was not making much effort to alleviate the lives of soldiers and here comes the country's hero...Antonio Trillanes IV to the rescue." Uhm, I guess not that good enough...

Well, why not? Trillanes has that hero guise complete with manly image. Strong physique, attractive face and an intelligent standpoint, right?

But all hell broke loose when finally, it dawned to me what the "hero" was evidently doing. Shredding the "country-in-distress" into small pieces and feeding it to vulnerable state. Such a hero!

Later on as the stand off progresses, the more I grew agitated with the development. To put it frankly, I was fuming in rage with the country's supposedly "hero". How could he?

Watching soldiers surrounding the posh hotel in the heart of financial district in the Philippines made me doubt what the "hero" was fighting all about. When I heard gun fires from armored personnel carriers, I heard myself saying, "This is it. The ‘hero’ was about to be crushed."

To put it candidly, I wasn't really much bothered by the armed soldiers surrounding the classy Manila Pen but it was such an effort not to strangle my other 14-year-old niece shouting maddeningly to rebels because she couldn't watch PBB Uber in the nation's giant network.

You see, almost all regular programs were cut-off to give way to the national emergency. My niece was so infuriated that she was ready to choke the rebels with her bare hands. We tried to switch channels but regrettably the Philippines was such in a sorry mess that CNN and BBC deemed it necessary to air live.

On the upbeat side, my heart was swelling with pride watching a Filipino journalist, Ces Drilon of ABS-CBN, made it to the international network live covered in a hazy room. They were protected from tear gas with a wet towel.

How did the country's "hero" ended up in chaos? He repeated many times the 11, 000, 000 votes he got from the Filipinos but then that's a different story, right?

With due respect to the "country's hero" I was once his followers. I admire his idealism and concern to the soldiers. But, marching off the heart of the country's financial district guarded with armed soldiers and penetrating an innocent hotel-affecting the lives of thousands- made me think twice.

After seven hours, the crisis was finally over- not after more than a hundred personalities including media men were arrested and curfew was declared. Again, affecting more people because of the so called "constitutional mandate."

It was such a pity watching the "hero" being arrested with the sleeve of his jacket slipping off his shoulders and loaded into the bus. Where did the idealism go wrong?

Meanwhile, my six-year-old and 14-year-old nieces were then found up roaring with joy not because the national emergency was finally over but because they could finally watch again their favorite shows interrupted by the "fallen hero".

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Saturday, December 01, 2007

Remembering Faded Memories

The other day while watching my nieces have their hair treatment at David's salon, I busied myself mulling over the series of events that catapulted me into my current role- that of a doting aunt.

Without much regrets really. After all, I enjoy being with two pretty girls though at times they could be a real toughie in the head.


Sometimes it made me wonder though what happened to my five- year teaching stint. Was it for real?

Don't get me wrong. I haven't forgotten for a single second. There were too many precious memories to think of. However, with so many things that happened in barely seven months, it sorts of clouded my mind.

Sometimes I do find myself drowned in tears begging paled memoir not to leave. I tried to hold on tight but my grasp seemed not taut enough. You see, life's journey led me to a completely different path.

I once had a simple life or would it be apt to say a complex but uncomplicated life? My day usually starts at 5 am then before going to school I would drop off San Francisco church to say a short prayer. That was every morning and I never missed a day without doing it.

I would then have my regular classes and break times are usually spent in front of the computer in my office. My "real" break was only during lunch where I got to eat in the school canteen with my friends. Time in school usually ends at 6-6:30 p.m.

Sleeping time varied depending on the deadlines I'm trying to beat. At times, I would drift off to sleep at 10 pm but most of the times around 1-2 a.m. Social life was only the regular parties in the school.

Now, I find myself in entirely unusual situation. My day starts at 10-11 a.m. (depends what time the medicines would wear off) and ends as early as 9 p.m. The description of my work includes simple tutoring and attending school functions of my two nieces. Pretty challenging, right?

Oh, well it doesn't end there. You see, I mastered also how to reduce children's fever and memorized more or less medicines for kids.

The beauty of it all I guess is that finally I've been doing my first love- that is writing. I shoved it off for quite a long time because I was so career-driven. I do love teaching but my first love is really writing. Now, I could say I am more purpose-driven.

When I came face to face with a life-changing event in my life, I also found myself amidst swirling questions which led me to astounding realizations that there's one part of my life that I haven't satisfied yet-and that is fulfilling my real love in writing.

Notwithstanding my current complicated life because of going back and forth to the hospital, I am thankful for the opportunity to finally do what I should have done for such a long time now. Without the tedious pressure that haunted me everyday of my life, I'm finally chasing my ultimate dream.

I'm not really crazy to think that I'll be in the big time but I guess just to do something about my dream is more than enough now.

On the other hand, I do miss teaching. Every moment that I spent there was full of bittersweet memories. There was this occasional losing myself fuming in anger but then there was also moment where I found myself swelling with pride and love to innocent little beings.

My life now is quite far fetched than what it was before. But even if the memories of yesterdays have started to be vague, I continue to chase it. The faded memories lit up that tiny hope in my heart and flared up by the unconditional love of those whom I left behind.

The tears and laughter would remain in my heart albeit of faded memories...it won't end up wilted rose.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Adulthood Taught Me Magic Does Not Exist

When I was a kid, I was a great believer of magic. I believed too much that if you tell me things would vanish in thin air, I would be quivering in fear. I looked up to everything around me as MAGIC.

Until third grade, I would cross the bridge going to the house of my grandparents crawling. I was dreading the time that "magic" would appear and swallow my whole body. The bridge was not really so high. But then, when you were young, you think that everybody's too tall or everything's too deep.


I have no map that would steer me all the way. No "magic" to help my voyage easier. Nobody to point which path is right, but I won't put myself in a bitter strife, my journey continues...against all odds.

Magic also made my childhood easier. I fought my adversaries thinking that magic would do the fighting for me. I would imagine that because of magic, my opponents would go home inflicted with misery and I need not to commit sin by fighting them back.

Getting sick was also easier. My mind was already conditioned that "magic" would do the healing and I would not suffer for long. Family problems? Oh, I have given them up to "magic" for fixing, it made my life easier.

The lush meadows, the splendid blue skies, the marvel of the butterfly coming out from its cocoon, the multihued rainbow...they made my tiny heart ached for more wonders of the world. "Magic" imprinted in my soul the anticipation of my future where "bigger magic" dwells.

Many years later, my conviction was slowly tainted as I sailed through hard life. I was not really sure how it happened but I just woke up one day devoid of the "magic" feeling.

I guess that's the hardest part of growing up. All the innocence slowly ebbed away as tribulations hit me over and over again.

Life's hindrances shred me with the fervor to trust "magic". I no longer crossed the bridge with trepidation or look at an illness as ephemeral. Problems cast dark clouds making me gloomy the whole day. Foes created permanent hole in my heart.

Things around me suddenly lacked wonder and they were just simply part of everyday living. It was not what I envisioned it to be where splendor of magic was abundant.

Life is simply a puzzle I work out each day. Sad as it may be, there is no such thing as "magic".

Each day I face is simply a stepping stone of a continuous learning process. There is naught to fear in the journey ahead but deep down in my heart, a part continuously hope that I just remained a child forever.

However, returning could be done by memory alone. I could only track the road only once. If I see the end of path ahead, it doesn't mean that I could stop. It was just there to help me rest for a while. There is no "magic" that would help me to detour.

I have no map that would steer me all the way. No "magic" to help my voyage easier. Nobody to point which path is right, but I would not put myself in a bitter strife, my journey continues...against all odds.

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Fighting a Dismal Heart


The house is filled with deafening sound. My head is throbbing with the long hours in front of computer editing and encoding for the book I'm currently writing. More so to bury myself in the world of nothingness while doing something worthwhile.

Just a few hours ago, I've been out to do some stuffs. It was a nice feeling to walk in colorful streets adorned with Christmas ornaments. My heart swell with Christmas spirit.

Christmas has that distinctive effect that makes your heart overflow with longing to things you have no power to control. It evokes wistful feeling that usually put you at the end feeling dismal.

Inside the prison of myself, I see a different me. Maybe it was the turbulent of emotions that flooded over my soul, but for whatever reason, I feel like I need respite again from this tumultuous stage.

Have I lost then, the ability to enjoy the nostalgia and homeliness of traditional Christmas?


I don't know. I could count again and again my blessings. I could make a long list of people who love me. But, there is that void in the quiet corner of my heart which a simple "Merry Christmas" can't mend.

My hope did not falter, don't get me wrong. But, sometimes life necessitate candor in order to unravel the seam of optimism and misfortune.

The tearful grimace of my dismal heart perseveres its slow pace. However, there is that bigger part where faith and gratitude reside.

In His right time, I could overpower this thing where I'll emerge victor. 

Monday, November 26, 2007

Life, Death, and Entangled Emotions

I was so disheartened by the message about the death of a friend's mom. I could almost taste again the stab of pain when almost six years ago, I also lost my father.

Death is a hideous enemy. Nothing could fill the void in one's heart brought by the death of loved ones. Years after still feels like yesterday. More so when you knew that he/she suffered excruciating pain brought by illness like cancer.


The paradoxical complexities of life are hard to grasp at times. Conversely, it was barely six months ago when I too, was also diagnosed with the Big C. I vividly remember that moment when in desperation I just crossed my hands and wallowed in self-pity.

I was bereft with emotions especially when asked, "What else I haven't done yet?", then I found myself amidst churning emotions and then...nothing...just emptiness knowing that I have served my purpose already.


Consequently, some welcome death as relief from agony. The gust of wind that touched one's face was sort of an assertion that somewhere out there our loved ones continue to live in a different realm...

Death is neither a grief nor a celebration. Life begins in pain and accordingly it must also end the same way.

However, life's pain is evanescent. Each of us must have that moment where everything will be left behind. It's like a dance where at the final moment we knew the steps by heart lest we will be trounced by woe.

Then, we let ourselves be engulfed by the melody of music...

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Sunday, November 25, 2007

An Answered Prayer



My sister woke me up from a deep slumber early today because of a phone call. It was a taxing thing to do every morning since the medicines I'm taking make me feel very sleepy. Usually, I would wake up 10 or 11 or else I would feel drowsy the whole day.

However, I opted to fight back sleepiness and answered the call. It's really nothing so I decided to go back dreaming. But the sleep became elusive so I sat down in front of the computer and check email.

Voila! The biggest surprise of the day!

Finally, I received an email answering my inquiry from the assistant director of writing center in one university in New York granting me permission to refer to their website for the book I am currently writing.

It was a humbling moment knowing there are people who are willing to help other people start their dream.


At the same time, that ember of tiny hope in my heart was ignited again into a giant flame of optimistic thinking.

Whilst some of my thoughts are not always happy moments, just the same they are thoughts that make me more appreciative of things like this.

Lit My Heart


The wind was howling as I woke up this morning. However, the bad weather did not dampen the sense of elation in my heart.

It's another day of taking medicines, feeling pang of pain and yet my heart is filled with apparent hope. Could it be because I've finished five pages yesterday for my book? Perhaps the playful bantering of words with my niece? Maybe it's the email full of encouragement from a friend?

For whatever reason, I woke up differently from the previous days. The tapestry of miseries has finally ended. For once, I could feel my heart has been lit up.


Life comprises trials and tribulations. What is important is we continue to live with hope in our heart.

See the stars at night? They will continue to light the tiny hope within me whenever I feel that the world is about to crumble. Life doesn't always have melancholic ending.

Footsteps stealthy on the stair,

Sweet-voiced carols in the air,

Stocking hanging in a row,

My heart believes there's a happy Christmas after all. 


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Solitary Trek

It is so natural to declare to the whole world that you love God with all your heart whenever life is going on as planned. But, whenever life beseeched you with uncertainties and you are in constant pain, your faith is being taken into another level.

It's barely three days after I was out of the O.R but it seemed like just an hour ago when I was in agony again.


It was terrible going through the same process of being subjected to constant examination and pain.

Friends and family were there to surround me with love and prayers but the truth remains, I need to take this trudge of misery alone.

The faith resides in my heart but it is the will to see this through that's slowly unwavering.

I continuously seek for my sanctuary where I'll find peace within. Meanwhile, the solitary trek endures...

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Saturday, November 24, 2007

Different Kind of Christmas

The lights around the Christmas tree don't burn as bright

And it seemed I won't have a silent night.

Outside I hear the voices sing the sweetest sounds of caroling.

But, somehow there's a sadness in the song.

In my heart, I know that something's wrong.


It is a bit hard to get up from the bed this morning. I don't know but my heart is heavy. This has been one overwhelming year.

I'm momentarily at a loss on how to deal with this stage of my life. Undeniably, there's an emptiness within.

Six months! That was how long I was braving the odds after my major operation.

My siblings are burdened with the obligations of supporting my needs and that's what makes it doubly terrible. Physical pain is bearable but the knowledge that you are in some way a burden makes it more difficult.

I shouldn't feel this way, I know. Nobody's complaining. But there's something in Christmas spirit that purged me of emotions.

Will I see the light before Christmas? Will I feel again the melody of the Christmas carols?

The buried part of my heart remain positive. I'll see this through until the end. I won't venture again in negative thoughts.

It's a different kind of Christmas 
in a different kind of world.

Even though it looks the same. 

Everything has changed. 

It's a different kind of Christmas.

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