Realities come late and before we knew it, we already succumbed to our vulnerabilities. A gloomy day but the sun is just biding its time to spread its majestic rays again. A blessed day everyone.
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We have lived in Oslo for two years and during our stay there, I haven’t remembered any major violence that occurred. While there were some petty crimes of pick pocketing committed by their ‘guests,’ where I was almost a victim had it not for my son’s alertness, Oslo is generally peaceful….and clean.
Considered the most peaceful and the safest place in Europe, if not in the whole world, living in Norway, however, has its price. The cost of living is high and considered the most expensive. An hour ride in Oslo’s public transport costs 20 kroner (about four dollars) the same with a cup of tea. (Price rate was during our stay there two years ago and I have heard the price has gone up). But what is money in exchange for peace? There, you can sleep with unlocked doors, you can walk in the street worry-free, the locals are friendly and accommodating; the surroundings are essentially clean and safe. The champion of peace (Oslo is home to Nobel Peace) and humanitarian assistance, it was very ironic that an incident that resulted to too many deaths and massive devastation occurred in this peaceful country. And it has become doubly ironic because the suspect was a Norwegian himself. While others pray that it was plain “lunatic” action, the degree of devastation and loss of lives were unimaginable. What would drive a native citizen of a peaceful country, that provides good social services, among them free education and hospitalization, commit that dastardly act? Can a single person capable of committing such crime with the same magnitude? Norway, aside from being safe and clean, is also among the most liberal countries in the world. Media is uncensored. Information facilities are well in placed and easily accessible, and the state is generally accommodating to immigrants. In a group of school children having their walking activities, you would notice that there are more children of different descent than native Norwegians. With a mere population of less or over five million, some 15 percent are naturalized-born Norwegians. Cross-cultural exchanges and the uncensored flood of information would have probably influenced the suspect in doing his ‘dastardly acts.’ The recent spate of mass actions in Africa and the Middle East would have influenced him; he tested how his country would react on such kind of violence. I wish it was simply an adventure on the part of the suspect. Or I can say there is no longer safe place to stay. Even our own home is sometimes unsafe to stay… To the people of Norway and Oslo, the place which I still miss despite having left the city two years ago, may you regain the peace and orderliness that I have learned to love. I miss my cozy nook near Aker Brygge where I used to do my reading and writing during sunny days. I miss walking along that street of Karl Johann on my way to school. And I remember sitting on a bench in front of the local newspaper building adjacent to the Prime Minister’s office, where a bronze statue of a man reading newspaper was located. My son and I also used to play snow in front of the Prime Minister’s office on our way home after attending the evening mass at the St. Olav Cathedral, located some meters away from the incident. May those affected by the heinous event found solace in the arms of our Unseen protector and Redeemer. People like wine ages, the only difference is as wine ages, it tastes better while man becomes bitter...Cheers everyone...life is too short to sulk.....G
In losing, we gain something, in giving; we receive in return. What we gain and what we receive are, however, relative. They depend on how hard and how much we have given up. Nothing goes and comes easy. After over 20 years of emotional, mental and physical challenges in nurturing my three children, I am now reaping the fruits of my labor. I have wonderful children who are responsible, loving, healthy, and each endowed with distinct beauty and talent. My two elder daughters are through with their university studies and are now working. They are lucky to be admitted in separate universities to take further studies, for free. My youngest son will be taking his master’s course in a year. All my hardships have paid up. While it was not solely my effort, I can confidently say that I was always there during their difficult times. Rearing them took all my time; I have to give up my career. Resigning from my job was among the hardest decisions I made. So as not to miss working, I considered every day as Saturday, my day off. I kept myself busy by becoming a hands-on mom. I nursed them (my eldest for eight months and the second and third for two years), guided them on their first steps and taught them how to speak, how to read and how to write. More than a mom, I was their first friend, first playmate and first teacher. Moving and living from and in different places is not easy; I also have to go through the same adjustments my children have experienced. And it was doubly hard because I have to help them in coping with our new environments, adopting to the new cultures and even in making new friends. But events have taken a different turn now. Before they will seek my advice on almost about anything, now they are my confidants, my advisers and my best friends. Their hugs comfort me, their words add to my wisdom and their affections make me feel important. They have developed sensitivity you do not have to tell them what you feel. They can feel my frustrations. They know when I lost my enthusiasm in doing almost everything I love; writing, going out and making friends. And during my trying times, they provide the moral support, the love, and the care I need that are difficult and can hardly get from others. They keep my mind off from my frustrations; they laugh with me, they sing with me, they dance with me; they make fun with and of me. They even help me draw plans how to keep me busy and how to realize my dreams. And talking about dreams, my daughters accomplished my dream of having a good camera. I have flair for photography; I use my mobile phone camera in taking pictures after my digicam became outdated. They gifted me with a DSLR camera which they bought with their own salaries. And it does not stop there. In a week’s time, I will be flying to Prague, one of my dream cities, and embark on a four-night three-day lone tour. They arranged for my flight and hotel accommodation and cover all the expenses. I am proud of my children; they never give up on me. I like to believe that what had happened was the work of Unseen Hands… that I have to lose and give up a big part of me for my children to gain and receive the benefits… That returns, I finally realized, should not necessarily come to us but to the people we love. But I am luckier still....they share to me their blessings that are more than the things I have lost and given up. Life is surprising, exhilarating, engaging and totally ironic...
We pretend at a loss as reality struck us Dilemma seizes us when we are at a fork Wickedness comes our way despite all our goodness Opportunist takes advantage of our vulnerability and we allow them We utter belittling words and forget we said them Some events shake us even though we are steadfast We go against nature yet blamed it for our misfortune And call our wrong actions as reactions Deceiver plays on us while we are too trustful We look for something we already have Kindness and beauty overwhelm us We think fulfilling our duties as doing a favor We are adamant to share but rejoice when we receive. We contend ourselves that happiness is just a state of mind That though others hurt us, we can’t simply ignore them We long for something we know we can’t have We say sorry yet repeat the same mistake Our actions differ from what we say. We want development but afraid to change and of changes Narcissism is mistaken for love to oneself. We dream big but do little or nothing to achieve Accepting advice makes us feel inferior We expect to be loved despite our arrogance And we live yet forget to exist. Bright, warm and sunny....may the heat of the sun and its brightness spread throughout the coming days and bring forth the goodness in everybody...Good Monday morning everyone <3
I wish that as the season changed and the days passed, happy moments alter the sullen memories of the past. Have a wonderful weekend everyone ♥
Our life is like tennis game, it can be played in different courts…the grass, the clay, and the hard court. If you want a faster pace but with slower bounce, play it on the grass; if you prefer slower pace but with high bounce, move on to the clay court. And if you want to play a level field, take the hard court where speed is faster than clay but not as fast as the grass court. The hard court provides equal opportunities among all players, regardless of their handicap.
Being prayerful and positive pays. From a diagnosis of third level, possible benign or malignant growth in my breasts, my recent check up showed I am clear. The doctor said I will be promoted to number 1…..Cheers!!!
The night before my check up, I was, however, uneasy. Who would not when my earlier medical reports showed some uncertainties? And on that same night, I had a strange dream, talking to my estranged father in my sleep. I remember asking him, “didn’t you take all my sickness with you when you died?” Seeing him alive in my dream woke me up and kept me awake the whole night. The dream was significant because it was the first time I dreamt of him and it came on the time of my check up. Why did he suddenly show up? I was two years old when he and my mom separated. I grew up without knowing him. The only memory I had with him was when we played Scrabble during our first meeting, I’ve beaten him several times; he was beaming and teary-eyed as he said with pride,“that’s my daughter.” I was introduced to him when I was 13 years old and it took several years when we met again, during his confinement following his colon operation (part of his infected colon was cut and replaced by rubber). Our last meeting was by his death-bed when he requested all of us, his children, to be present before he took his last breath. Scary but I believe that he came to calm me down and provide his moral support, to assure me that everything will be okay. And true enough, I am declared clear. Now I only have to go through the scanning machine after 18 months unlike my previous diagnosis that require me to have check up every six months. I will also have a longer respite from the hands of the male doctors who, unfortunately on my part, conducted the physical examinations. To a longer and productive life……Cheers!!!!! "We got to start somewhere," he said. They were inside his hotel room; it was their first meeting since their friendship started nearly three years ago. Theirs was an unusual friendship. They met on the net and after some exchanges of communications, they became friends. They can talk about anything, from personal to universal and even sensual (as he called it).
She knows him as the person who values his independence and who enjoys his single-blessedness. He inspires her with his very positive outlook in life. He is aware of her current situation, she could cry to him whenever she is down and lonely. Tall, blue-eyed and with neatly shaven silver gray hair, she met him at the central train station one weekend when he visited her. She found no difficulty in recognizing him as he walked towards her. He looks exactly the same as his projection on the computer screen though he is bigger in real life. He too confided that he immediately recognized her thinking there was no other woman around to meet him. They proceeded to his hotel room which was just a stone throw away from the station. They stayed there until the wee hours in the morning. At first, he was seated on a chair at the right foot side of the bed while she snuggled comfortably on a couch on the left side of the head board. They talked about the calamity that recently hit Japan, the uprising in the Middle East and the African countries and their country's involvement in Afghanistan. The exchange of their ideas became too heavy, she felt they have to change topic. She suggested that they draw a plan how he is going to enjoy his short visit. Though it was not his first time to the city, he said that he has not explored the place and had been only there on business trips. Meanwhile, she felt a little discomfort when he rose from his chair, decided to occupy the right side of the twin-sized bed saying "I am tired." She could not understand whether the discomfort came as he took off his shoes which emitted some smell or because he will lie in bed. She was engulfed with mixed feelings she asked herself; shall I leave now, shall I remain on my seat or shall I join him in bed? She decided to sit still but it did not take too long, she joined him in bed. Whether for comfort or anything, she did not care to understand. The bed has enough room for two; she laid the hardbound coffee table book and continued reading. She was impressed by his rich knowledge on their culture and history and the current events. He provided more information on almost every place, people and event she read to him. He seems to have ideas on almost about anything. He even knows how to make clear, crystal ice cubes. Their nearness allowed him to hold her hand which looked like a child’s hand on his big palm. “You are feeling cold” he blurted as he touched her cold hand. He gently whisks her hand, rises up and adjusted the control of the room temperature. “It will be warmer, you’ll feel comfortable now,” he said as he returned to bed. She remained seated while reading until he gently pulled her towards him. They soon lie side by side and their conversation shifted to a more personal topic. She asked why he decided to see her. Couldn’t think of any good reason perhaps, to explain his sudden interest to meet her, he answered “because of curiosity.” He added that it was probably the same reason why she was there. They remained in their intimate position, his arms wrapped around her with their fingers crossed together. And as silence engulfed them, she decided to leave. She jumped off the bed, pulled her creased woollen long-sleeve blouse and combed her hair. He then stood behind her and helped her with her coat. They were in front of a full-length mirror which reflected their contrasting personalities, tall and petite, fair and brown. He said during their meeting the following day that he could have undressed her on that moment to stop her from leaving but he did not “out of respect” knowing she’s going home. He sent her off to the train station. While waiting for her ride, she was trying to think of the reason why she indeed consented to meet him. Was it really plain curiosity? Curious on why he remains single despite his age? Has their friendship weighed on her? Should there be a special reason why she went to meet him, stayed with him and promised to meet him again the next day? Despite some apprehensions, she was, however, happy meeting him. To her it was a significant meeting. It rekindled lost feelings that were not necessarily related to him. She was like a lost child, she found comfort inside his arms as she snuggled her head in his chest. It was a short, swift moment of happiness that allowed her to be herself again…sweet, happy, conversational and carefree. Their closeness did not stop when he went back to his place….they talk whenever it was possible, exchange short sweet messages and dream together of meeting again, sometime, anywhere. But things have become different. ….the sweet notes become scarce, there were less talk and there were days of no talk and no notes at all…. She felt that just as she is beginning to become closer to him, he is starting to go farther. “We got to start somewhere…” whatever he means when he said it will remain a puzzle. Will there be a next meeting? Time can only tell….She strongly feels that whatever there is or will be between them was over even before it formally started…as to why, she can never say…. Time flies, the week ìs over and sooner, we are half-way through the year. The days pass yet memories remain and they continue to stay to remind us of who are we, what are we, and how are we today, tomorrow and yesterday. God helg alle sammen ♥
Gets up at five a.m., prepares the family’s meal,
Then rush to fix herself, catch the bus and leave for work Buries her head at work, at 5p.m. run to catch ride home Back to the kitchen concocts the evening meal Dinner is served; her day chores are nearly done. Stand to watch over as the children study and learn Their days’ lessons she reviews, catch on their progresses Attends to their school needs, provides guidance and help Be in writing or in reading, even in dancing and playing too. Being a mom is a tough job, needs precision, dedication But the pleasure is endless, joy and happiness…boundless Seeing your children grow, well-rounded and kind- hearted Fulfillment alters all your fears, even all your sorrows. To all women I share this joy Of being blessed to be a mom While in the process we have to choose To be a mother or just be ourselves The choice we made to be a mom I say the greatest that we have done. Happy Mothers’ Day! Bits of info have been circulating around long ago that Osama bin Laden was hiding in Pakistan, as to where, however, remained a puzzle until his killing on Sunday, May 1, a very auspicious day, the date when we commemorate our workers, Labor Day.
Nearly 10 years after the Sept. 11 bombing of the twin tower in New York that killed hundreds of people; justice for the victims was finally achieved. Americans were overjoyed by this event; they flocked to the streets and spontaneously celebrated the occasion. Meanwhile, people in Pakistan have become doubly fearful for their life. A country where bombing and death has seemed to be a daily occurrence, the capture of bin Laden opened them to harsh criticisms and subjects for retaliation. Will the Pakistanis become the next “collateral damage” (the word coined during the Iraq invasion referring to the unintended victims or effect of the invasion)? Is the justice gained by the victims and the families of the bombing compensates for the distraught feelings most Pakistanis are experiencing now? Many country leaders praised the joint American and Pakistani forces for their efforts in capturing and eliminating bin Laden. They said his death also ushers world peace. Will his death really bring peace? At whose expense? Life is like the seasons, sunny and bright on summer, weary and cold on winter, happy and blithe on spring, and gloomy and dreary on fall.
And like the trees and the birds, we have to live our life whatever season it is; go along with the cycle and hurdle the consequences. One of the pillars and can be considered the father of the Philippine News AGency (PNA), the government-run news wire agency, Jose L. Pavia or JLP to everyone is a person to reckon with. Tall with booming voice, you will be intimidated by his looks but no, he is compassionate and a good manager.
I remember when I applied for the job as a reporter he refused to hire me saying I am too young (I was 20 years old, fresh graduate from college) small and too fragile to be a cub reporter (title for newbies). He impressed on me that the job is not easy and threw one of the famous Filipino jokes saying "Pinabili ka lang ng nanay mo ng suka sa tindahan, dito ka na nagtuloy." (Your mom just asked you to buy vinegar from the store, you proceeded here instead). It took him three hours before he finally say okay. It was an interview that turned out to be a casual talk. He didn't ask any complicated questions but instead tried to discourage me from pursuing the job by saying the many tough challenges I will face as a reporter. True to what he has said, my first month was a tough experience but I pulled through. We seldom talk but his words served as my encouragement to learn the ropes of reporting. My being a PNAer has been a great advantage, had I not started my career there as a reporter, I would have not accomplished what I did during my active years as a reporter. My gratitude to JLP (and to other editors of the PNA) for the opportunity given to me, for growing with them and for honing my writing skills. So long JLP, we never had a chance to work together longer but I know you will remember me as the young girl who insisted that I can be a tough reporter despite my physical frailties.... (written after my former classmates gave me a birthday treat)
Last night was one of the most memorable moments in my life....had the chance to bond with my former classmates. The 30 years of absence of communication did not diminish the camaraderie we used to have. Ours is a friendship that crosses no borders and timeless. And it was heartwarming, they brought a birthday cake with my name written on it complete with candle....haven't remember doing that for long...blowing the candle and cutting the cake... Yesterday was also a realization that we do not have to look and long for people who seemed to have forgotten us. We do not have to hold on to memories that would just make us cry... We just have to live for the day, cherish the moments we have at hand and be thankful that we have friends who do not forget us.... To all of you, my sincerest gratitude...Thank You, Grazie, Tusen Takk, Tack sa Mycket, Gracias, Maraming Salamat. G While the road called life is both smooth and bumpy, let's just enjoy our ride and savor the sceneries. Have a blessed week everyone ♥.
Weekend once again, time to cap the week though we don't stop our daily, hourly, and minutely moments. Let us pause for a while and savor the beauty around us... bright sun, blue sky and the crisp cold winter wind bidding its farewell. God helg alle sammen ♥
Glad to be young
I was two years old when Papa left us for another woman. But despite my very tender age, I can still recall the scene during that day… the scene but I could not recall any feeling of sadness, anger or worry. That’s the beauty of being young and innocent…. we are spared from feeling sad, worried and angry. I just realized it today, how difficult if feels when you are left and abandoned by your partner. After hearing from a friend that her partner of 10 years left her for another woman, I felt a heavy pounding in my chest. I am just a receiver of the news but I felt sad and it made me wonder, why did this happen? And it has affected my mood, the day I heard the news. I could not concentrate on writing my term paper. It somehow ruined my day….why…I do not know. If this has been my reaction to the news….surely the person involved is feeling worser than I do. And I realized that had I been older when Papa left us, maybe, I will feel the same. Glad our case was over when I was younger. I was spared from a great deal of sadness and anxiety trying to comprehend why he left us. If only we could remain young and innocent forever….there would be no feeling of sadness, worry, anger and anxiety…. Marriage among Filipinos is synonymous to SACRIFICE, especially to women. More often, battered wives suffer in silence for fear of being ostracized. Male egoism is so high in the Philippine society that failed marriage is attributed mostly to women. And as religion plays a big role in the Philippine culture, it is common for couples to continue living together despite their failed marriage to keep up with the doctrine that "what God has put together, let no man shall separate them." Women rights and gender equality are purportedly high in the Philippines; however, getting out from failed marriage is a tedious and expensive process. The absence of divorce left the aggrieved party to opt for either legal separation or filing of annulment case. Legal separation, does not, however, allow the parties to remarry. Anyone who remarries and whose marriage has not been annulled, although legally separated, can be charged with bigamy. The annulment process, on the other hand, has difficult grounds before the marriage is declared null and void. (http://jlp-law.com/blog/annulment-divorce-legal-separation-in-the-philippines-questions-and-answers/) The only predominantly-Catholic nation in Asia, divorce, mixed marriage, abortion and even the use of contraceptive are among the social issues which the church actively campaign against with. Several times, bills and legislation calling for the adoption of divorce has been blocked and failed to pass at both, the upper and the lower houses. The church has so much influence to the Filipino people that even the politicians shy away from supporting the bills and legislations on divorce for fear that they will lose their votes on election times. With the absence of a clear law that will free couples from the bondage of their failed marriage, they, particularly the financially unlucky, are locked in their dilemma to hold on to their marriage or leave their spouses, find a new partner and live in “sin.” This situation leads me to the question, should divorce be adopted in the Philippines, could it be called a social revolution or moral degradation? My 18-year-old son says it is social revolution and I agree. What do you think? ...wish our brain and heart can filter our thoughts and feelings; block those that make us sad and allow only those that would make us smile.... Is there a specific time and period in our children's life that we should stop talking to them? That we no longer have a say on what they should do and how they should do things? Motherhood is the fulfilment of a woman, as the saying goes, but does motherhood stop as the children grow up and become independent? Do mothers become irrelevant? Yes, we become great grandmothers but then, what is next after that? Is it correct to say that as our children grow up, we mothers, while tending to them, should also start "redeveloping" ourselves as independent individuals? Sometimes, I wish my children remain young, but then the joy of seeing them grow as well-rounded individuals...beautiful, vibrant...full of life.... compensates for my being a mom...gh Have an awesome experience today, learning and playing curling. It was my first time to play this Olympic sport and it was doubly exciting because our instructor was no less than a Swedish curling gold medalist...... The sport was, initially, scary because the "rock" was heavy I could not lift it, the iced-court was slippery I have difficulty in balancing and I have apprehensions I could not push the rock to the base at the other end of the court. Each rock weighs approximately 20k. Training of the game was short; we were only taught how to play it minutes before our friendly competition begins. Lucky enough though, my first throw was a good one, it was close to the eye of the target...it was our team's first point everybody in our group was rejoicing. We were four in our team and each of us has to throw two rocks each. There were two sets of game and just as I have learned to play properly and appreciated it... the competition was over... Yeh, a moment to learn, a moment to appreciate and it was over...there was no time to savor the new sport I have learned and the camaraderie developed among my teammates. I wish we could have played more..... |
AuthorA mother, an aunt, a sister and a friend, they embody Archives
February 2014
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