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Tuesday, 10 November 2009

  • my personal hero :)

    It isn’t Mother’s Day but I just feel like writing about the most important woman in my life. Though I have always been a daddy’s girl and have been very vocal about it, a great part of me is all about my mom. I have never really appreciated how much a super woman Mama has been all these years until I had become a mother myself.

    Last night, I found myself taking a glimpse at my mom’s life from her own eyes and from her heart. The pictures in my head were just over whelming for although it was a rich, rich life, I also realized it wasn’t an easy one my mom led.

    The tragic death of her two brothers and the downfall of their family business early on during her adolescence were perhaps two of the biggest misfortunes in her life. But she had a tough spirit and so she bounced back up. Eventually, she met my father. I am certain that her marriage to Papa and having us were the highlights in her ever colorful life. Of course, not all marriages turn out perfect. And theirs was no exception. When she found out about my dad’s affair, she was devastated as all wives would be. But she never gave up. Not on the marriage, not on my father and certainly not on us. She was a force to reckon with, I tell you. Up until Papa’s death, she held on to her marriage vows and stood by her man. Never mind that the same man had hurt her countless times in the past. One would say she was a martyr. She did what she thought was best for her family. Selflessly.

    We had hospital bills and funeral expenses to settle. Not an easy feat for a widow with four children to take care of, yet she passed this most thorny test with flying colors. She mourned gracefully. She wept without forgetting that we were there depending on her strength. She kept her head afloat even when she must have felt like drowning from so much grief. She pulled through emotionally and financially despite the sorrow. She survived. For us.

    As a single parent, she was in the truest sense, selfless. She gave everything she could to us, provided us with not only things we needed but even those we wanted. Never mind that she had nothing left for herself. She managed to make ends meet with what little salary she had as a government employee. She indulged us with the things she could afford and promising to give us what she couldn’t. She taught us to be free and independent without compromising the principles of family and respect. She trusted our judgment. She respected our thoughts and minds. She applauded every accomplishment. She embraced everything and everyone we love. She defended us from anyone and anything that would hurt us. She was not only the light but she was the pillar. The buttress and the base of our family. Even when we disappoint her many times, she was just always there loving us unconditionally. Like a true parent would his children.

    As a grandparent, she is twice the mother she was to us. She loved and adored her grandchildren and gave unselfishly to all six of them. She cares for them and worries for their future as much as we do.

    These days, she keeps herself busy with work and church. I get guilty a lot of times that at this point in her life, she should be looking out for herself. Enjoying the years of her hard work and the fruits of her labor. Yet, she is still selflessly looking out for all of us. Most especially me and my family.

    When I look at the life she lived, I can’t help but just marvel at the idea that she probably was and is a complete woman. I’m already halfway done with my life and I have not even come close to the woman, the daughter, wife and mother that she is.

    So yes I am one proud daughter. And it is but right that I pay homage to this very significant woman in my life. For me she’s an icon. She’s a treasure. She’s my idol. She’s my personal hero.

    ~~

    My mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort, happiness, and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune. ~ Graycie Harmon

Tuesday, 06 October 2009

  • a "Father" and his children...

    I was born the youngest of four, and as such, I never really knew how it felt to be responsible for someone else other than myself until I got married, acquiring extended family in the process and eventually having children of my own.

     

    My better half on the other hand was the eldest of five children. They lost their mother a few years back due to aneurysm. This tragedy has left the family lost and adrift, including my husband. In the course of my mother in law’s ordeal, I have taken it in me to keep the family from breaking down and apart. On her death bed, I made a vow to look after each an every one of them. And when I say everyone, I meant EVERYONE.

     

    In the eleven years I have been with my husband, I have witnessed first-hand what their family was all about. I have learned to understand why the man I love was who he was, why he has become such and what he was trying to be for this one very significant man in his life. From the outside looking in, I have stood by and watched not only him but everyone,  endure the same lashing words and lack of appreciation from their father just as their Kuya did all the years.

     

    And in all these years, I have endured with them.  Sometimes silently, many times spitefully. I cried when they get hurt, I get angry when I see them pained. To the point that I question whether they were really my “blood” and not “acquired” sisters and brothers.

     

    I have tried to hold my horses off so many times because after all, I am still an outsider and have no right to do such. But too many times, I get hurt and become livid, that they refused to speak their minds. How can you blame them when all they get for doing such was indifference and many times rejection? I have never seen a parent as frigid as him. He has no idea how much emotional abuse his children have suffered and are still suffering. How could he, when he has never sat down and asked their thoughts on so many important matters concerning the family? He never went out of his way to show his appreciation no matter how mundane the accomplishment was. He never respected the thoughts and minds of his children. They grew up believing that holding one’s tongue was better and suppression was for the good of everyone. While their father stood high and mighty, his children bowed down meekly, trying all their best to please him in small and big ways they could.

     

    Until the lid finally blew off last weekend.

     

    I have seen this coming. I have anticipated it. At the risk of sounding like I condone her for disrespecting her own father, I admit that I applaud her. She has finally said what everyone has wanted to all these years. No one had the nerve, until her. Never mind that it was alcohol-induced. Never mind that it appeared that she was the only “suwail”. I just applaud her. For the nerve. The strength. The backbone.

     

    When I spoke to their father’s mistress a few months back, I had only one line for her. That anyone who will hurt the family, would have to go through me. I held on to the words I whispered on their mother’s deathbed and will continue to do so, until my own last breath.

     

    ~~~

     

    "Children, obey your parents for this is right." - Ephesians 6:1

     

    "Terribly hurtful and abusive parents have truly forfeited their right to be parents...children in such cases should be removed from the parents and brought up by those who will love them." - David Reagan

     

    "Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged." - Colossians 3:21

Thursday, 03 September 2009

  • on Rules and Restrictions...

    Being a rebel at heart, following rules for me has always been hard won. I've been known to defy a lot of things and have always been stubborn on quite a few more. But rules are rules, that much I know. As much as I am opinionated, adamant and self-willed on so many things, there is a still a part of me that knows that there are rules that aren't really meant to be broken, rather,  followed. Especially when I am the one implementing such rules.

    Take the instance of a certain rule that was supposedly implemented in my workplace. When I heard that the internet usage was being regulated, I knew I had to follow. After all, I was there to get paid to work and not play, right? And then they said, certain websites were restricted. Although I was a fan of these social networks, there wasn't much choice but to abide. I took their word as the gospel truth, thinking that everyone was going to do the same and that there were no exceptions to it. I  respected that these were part of the office policies, thus I willingly obeyed.

    And then I found out that these people supposedly implementing these rules and sending out notices of restriction are the very ones defying the same rules, it made me furious. Despite this, I remained hushed. I didn’t want to sound bitter.  Then I go online one night  from my house and I see these people online on this social network while they are at the office. I mean, how do you explain that?? Last night when asked nicely whether we can get the same access, he took pleasure in making me literally beg like they were Gods of information technology.  How utterly, utterly despicable!   

    Just because they were a part of a certain department, it doesn't mean that they are exceptions to the rule, right? What makes me more livid is the fact that these people aren't being discreet about these things. They flout these entitlements and cannot explain why they can't follow their own no-no's. Can't they at least pretend that they adhere to their own policies, and maybe be try staying low-key when they talk about the games they were into?

    When I say these, I don't mean everyone of them. There are those who are "straight" and much nicer, of course. Neither am I saying that I am holier than thou, like I am not guilty of using the workplace for personal stuff. Because as much as I hate to admit it,  I haven't exactly been the ideal employee, working all day with no play. I am guilty of squeezing IMs in between reports and most of the time playing songs on my media player, and maybe checking personal mails on the side. But as far as work ethics goes, I know I am not as flouting as these people were.

    So what is the point then? The point is, I need to vent. I don't give a rat's ass whether they think I have a chip on my shoulder or maybe bitter that I have such restrictions on my computer. Because that is soooooo beside the point.

    The bottom line is rules are still rules.  I don't and won't have a problem with regulations. If one implements such things, it should be across the board. No exceptions. No privileges. No immunities. By all means, restrict me but please do the same to yourself. Practice what you preach. And if you can't help it, at least be discreet about it. 

     

    It's not wise to violate rules until you know how to observe them.
    T. S. Eliot

    The trouble with referees is that they know the rules, but they do not know the game.
    Bill Shankly

     

Thursday, 23 July 2009

  • of appreciations...

    i have actually done it. i didn't believe for one second i could do it. i even made a bet against myself that i didn't have the guts to do it. but, surprisingly i actually did.

    i know you wonder what it is i have actually done. the things is, this deed has been hanging in my mind lately. especially when times get tough and i feel the need to breathe. when things get too much and people surrounding me become a pain. when i feel like choking and things get too much for me to handle. when i feel like i am about to snap and just blow off. when i am nearing the edge and i feel that nothing i say, do or feel matters to the people most important in my life.

    i guess yesterday i actually did snap. the lid opened and out came the monster i kept shoving inside. it started out quite trivial, something someone did, to bring me to the edge. this happens over and over again that i have become resolute that finding a cure to this chronic disease is hopeless.

    i have danced around the concept of getting out of the house and leaving. temporarily, of course.  while i have never considered moving out permanently, i have contemplated on just packing up my bag and head for nowhere or anywhere. if only to 'zen'-nify myself.

    last night was the first time i have actually done it. not on a whim mind you. in between the heated argument on the phone and the time i was to leave the office, i kept thinking about not going home. if only to teach them a lesson. if only to make some people realize what'll happen to them with me gone. i wasn't anything like super woman but i believe that i am as close as i can get. i kept wondering whether my absence would cause  much more upheaval in the house than with me there, constantly nagging and pressuring like they say i do. i have been away from home and from my children only a couple of times and most often not really by choice. but last night was the first night that i have actually decided on my own not to go home and sleep in our bed.

    the decision didn't come as a surprise to me because in the last weeks, the pot has already been brewing. each time i'd tell them that they shouldn't be surprised if one day they wake up and find me gone. either through death or flight. but i was all talk then. until last night.

    i admit i found it hard to sleep with thoughts of my children keeping me wide awake until the wee hours of the morning. i may be tough but with my kids, i'm all mushy. at some point last night, i felt the urge to go home and squeeze myself in between my children in bed and just seek refuge the way i've always done in the past. but then again i thought, some times things are learned the hard way and i cannot get all mushy if i wanted to keep them straight.

    i have not decided how long i can keep this up. whether i can endure being away from jam and cicc for another night. but then again, i'm not certain either whether one night without me will teach all of them the lesson i wanted them taught. that i am not just the monstrous, controlling, autocratic figure, as they perceive me to be. that there's more to me than the over-bearing wife he thinks i am. that there's more to me than someone who brings home the goodies in the very few nights i manage to come home with them still awake.

    that more then being a mother and wife attending to their needs,  who cares for and loves them, i am also a person wanting and needing some loving and caring, too. i too, need to be treated like i'm top prioroity just as they are to me. to make them see that at some tiny level, they are grateful for the simple things. and let's not forget that i only want the BEST and nothing less for all of them.

    ~~~

    The deepest principle in human nature is the craving to be appreciated.

    - William James

     

Tuesday, 21 July 2009

  • on missing my independence...

    i have always been known for my independence. whether in going to a place i want to go to, doing the things (read: crazy things) i want to do, deciding on matters concerning my life.  self-reliance has always been vital to me. from the simplest form of independence as tying my own shoelace, or doing my own homework at a very young age. to the most complex form of it,  such as being accountable for every wrong decision in my life and standing up after every failed relationship without blaming anyone but my own rashness and stupidity.

    if there's one thing i've learned from my parents and the way we were brought up, it is self sufficiency. and it's something i wish my own children would learn from me, too.

    ten years ago, i made a very important decision to become a wife and a mother. the road i had intended to take  suddenly had a fork halfway through and i had to make an instant detour. mind you, that detour turned out to be the best for me. i cannot imagine being back in that roadbend and not choosing the same road. but along with that choice comes a price. my independence. suddenly my decisions are no longer my own. every choice i made, i had to consider my partner and my kids. 

    since that day ten years ago, my decisions have always been about them. whether its was the best for them or not. whether they would approve. whether it would please them. whether i'd make them proud. whether it would hurt them.  many people would agree with me when i say that in becoming a mother, the instinct to protect and care for your children comes instantly as soon as you know they are growing in your womb and lasts until the last of your breath. and in becoming a wife, the decision to become one with your partner permeates into the very depth of your heart and soul as soon as you commit and say 'til death do us part'.

    let me make it clear though that i do not  regret these decisions and would go through hell and back to have them in my life. but time and again, i just stop and think. that some decisions i made in the past have not always been the best for them and were somehow selfishly made. of course, i get all guilt-ridden once these thoughts arise in my head. and would often wish i'd done otherwise. but once in a while, i just hear a certain battle in this head of mine. i ask myself questions.

    does it make me all bad that i sometimes reason with my self and with my guilt? that sometimes i feel like deserve to become the independent woman i used to be. that i could maybe go somewhere i want to go to without my family worrying about my safety and their security in my life. that i can do the things i've always wanted to do without me being thought of as a self-centered and inept person.  that i can decide on things concerning my life in one snap of a finger without those dearest to me, ever doubting the love i had for them. that i ought to become the woman i am cut out to be without them having misgivings about what i truly am as as a mother and wife.

    i can answer and have answered these questions a thousand times and one with just two letters...one word. N-O. but humor me, please. i need it.

    ~~

          “Nobody objects to a woman being a good writer or sculptor or geneticist if at the same time she manages to be a good wife, good mother, good looking, good tempered, well groomed and unaggressive.”

    Leslie McIntyre 

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  • an indefatigable wife, an ardent and doting mother, a slave for my dayjob, a frustrated writer, a hard-headed daughter, an incorrigible sister, a hopeless romantic, a henchman to my closest friends, a sucker for wit and humor, a music aficionado...

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