Two Birds with one stone

What does a girl do right after she has gone to school and is ready for the 'real world'? As far as our culture is concerned, weren't we taught to be good girls, learn to cook and sew so that we could catch our Mr. Right? How many of you were taught like this, raise your hands.

Nevertheless, those story books that depicted of a prince saving a damsel in distress probably rubbed into us the wrong way. The prince would come running to our rescue and would save us. From what? From strict parents who deny you freedom even at 21?, from poverty? From being an old maid? My take on this is we're jumping from one Calphalon pan to another Creuset one. Same fried dish, different frying pan. Rescuing us by a Prince Charming is the number one myth we all grew up with..

Once rescued, (so to say) the next thing a Prince has to do is protection. Probably in the prehistoric era, women needed protection from the bears and the wolves . But in our day and age, we're probably better off protecting ourselves. Besides most men nowadays only want one thing---to get into a woman's pants...not that they're gay---You know what I mean.

Those story book tales and cartoons of yesteryears are such a misconception. Popeye rescuing the screamy, whiny Olive with her shrill voice that could waken the dead. For all its worth, Popeye is better off without Olive. Considering how thin she is, she probably doesn't know how to cook. And by the way, if you were a teenager, would you want to marry a guy that smelled like your grandpa, just like Popeye with his pipe?

Protection and Security expected from your prince is a thing of the past. If you marry for protection, you might as well get an insurance guy because he can give you the best policy for your protection. And Security?...get a guard from an agency, or some policeman who moonlights---both will give you security, don't they?

Sometimes marrying Mr. Right has its challenges. It's just like saying, you won't know how strong the tea is until it has been thoroughly infused. You just have to take chances and calculate your risks. Because, in life there are no guarantees except taxes and death.

A few years ago, Mike placed in facebook his status as “open relationship” which to me meant that we had no secrets between us. Our friends went abuzz inquiring, “what's with you guys?! How are you doing?” Frankly, I didn't know what the term meant until I looked it up, and it had something to do with promiscuity and sexual liberation. So I myself, had to ask my hubby “is there something I need to know?” He laughed and said, “what do you think?”

Mike and I have been married for 33 years plus 5 years of M.U. (in today's lingot's Mutual Understanding, but during my time it's Mag Una-una). We are not a perfect couple as we do have our quirks and misunderstandings. But there's a saying, the best gift a dad can give his children is to love their mother”, and that's just what Mike has been doing since and continues to do so. For that, I am forever grateful....... So to my hubby,

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!!!!

by the way an advise for those guys wishing to marry - - since most of you at one time will forget an anniversary, why not get married on your birthday. ....that's just what my hubby did and he has never forgotten one single anniversaryyy ever since......sooo, to my palalabs!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY as well!!! TAGAY ta ron!

August 29 for us is just like hitting two birds with one stone



a pensive mike on our way home in a train....what is he thinking? did he make a mistake in getting married? hmmmmm

Wisdom with Age and Reunions

A few weeks ago, facebook was bombarded with high school reunions, especially since STC Cebu was having their annual alumni celebration. Most of the pictures of different levels from the Theresian community, consisted of parties, trips or just get togethers.Even if I wasn't there, reminiscing about those carefree days brought about such humongous nostalgia into my system.

In many reunions I would recall a classmate who revealed to us that while seated in class, she would fan both her knees to reveal her underwear to the delight of our male physics teacher.(but really, she wore shorts-- didn't we all, because then kulots was making its graceful exit out). And those tea parties we had during high school, making the nuns think that this was a noble way to socialize with the opposite sex under their very watchful eyes, was hilarious.

Then when we were in our Junior year in high school, there was an exchange of letters with boys from the junior class of an exclusive boys school. We used aliases and during the year, we'd receive letters from guys we didn't know. By the end of the schoolyear, we revealed ourselves, and you can just imagine the mixed reactions we all had. Every reunion brings about same stories of high school days, and it always makes us laugh everytime. But then new stories are added because we had moved on to much bigger roles and more challenging responsibilities.

During our silver jubilee many years back, we'd talk about careers, husbands and children. Intermixing with tales of the mundane to that of exhilarating experiences. We all have stories to tell and the few years away since high school, can not be compressed into the weekend getaway with the girls. Too many experiences to tell, too little time.

Then fast forward 5 years later into the next reunion, it is the same high school friends, reminiscing that same high school scenarios and still laughing at it everytime. But then, new experiences have emerged like a soap drama that has not completed its story. The twist from earlier events have turned into a mellowing crescendo. Deaths of schoolmates, love affairs , children marrying and births of grandkids. Each tale holding a special meaning to the story teller.

As I look at the pictures, I cannot help but smile. My classmates have grown – some sideways, others well, just like what my classmate Lennie S. said and I quote, “.... Each of you has developed into different variances of vintage wine. Some have developed like the sparkle of Champagne, characters with the richness of character of Merlot, the tenderness of a White Zinfandel, the deep commitments like the Pinot noir. All in all, 1975 was a year of good harvest of girls that have transformed to the basketful of varied, quality, vintage wines that gets better with each year.”

Lest we all get drunk and be carried away by our rambunctious thoughts, I cannot help but smile and be hopeful to take part in the next reunion !!! So before I end, let me tell you about this story, so graciously adopted....

A 72 years old cook was walking through the woods
and was looking for truffles to make some soup for her king.

She stopped and sat on an old log to rest,
when she heard a voice say, "Pick me up."
She looked around and couldn't see any one.
She thought she was dreaming when she heard the voice say a gain,
"Pick me up." She looked to her side, and saw a frog sitting on a tree stump.

The cook said, "Are you talking to me?"
The frog said, "Yes, I'm talking to you. Pick me up, then kiss me
and I'll turn into the most handsome man you have ever seen.
I'll make sure that all your friends are envious and jealous because I will be your groom!"

The cook looked at the frog for a short time, reached over, picked it up carefully,
and placed it in her apron pocket.

Then the frog said, "What, are you nuts? Didn't you hear what I said?
I said kiss me and I will be your handsome groom."

She opened her apron pocket, looked at the frog and said, "Nah, at my age I'd rather have a talking frog."

With age comes wisdom.....

Okay, by the way, Mike , my hubby was named “Baki” (visayan translation of frog) by his siblings. Why? Dunno, ask them....So, I had my groom when I was young, now I have my talking frog. Hehehe! I am blessed!

mama mia!!!

If my mom's life story was to be portrayed in a movie, we'll probably be rich. It has all the makings of tragedy, romance, drama, mystery, horror, war stories and tons of comedy to boot. And my mom can shame the acting prowess of Meryl Streep or Vilma Santos many times over.

Oh and yes! She too had the proverbial slap that most tagalog movies are famous for. It would be interesting if she were to write her memoir, because this was one turning point of her life. It was after the war (1940's kind of thing) when my mommy was a teenager, that she was prohibited by my grandma from seeing my dad. But the rebelliousness in her defied this rule. So one day, a snitch told my grandma that my mom was watching a movie with my dad. Off goes lola, waiting outside the moviehouse until the show was over. When lola saw mom come out with my dad in tow, my mom got the slap of her life . From then on, after the humiliation she got, mommy vowed she will have to marry my dad no matter what.

As a disciplinarian, my mom brought us up in fear with the “don't do this or else....” If there was something she didn't like in us, she would then relate to us about making the moomoo, the abat or the madre unhappy and they would sweep us off to their abodes! By the way, the mabolo convent at that time was really horrifyingly huge for a child and the carmelite convent had invisible nuns singing from a caged enclosure. So you can imagine how careful we were lest we displease the spooks mommy talked about.

But the one thing that my mom was famous for was her being a comedian and the life of many parties.
My mom was comfortable with just about anyone. She could rub shoulders with the crème de la crème of Philippine society and make them laugh. And she could also be sipping sikwate and eating budbud with the tinderas of carbon and pasil, while reading them their fortunes through playing cards.

Then in one of her friend's reunions, she would don a colorful long gown (mumu) and decorate herself with whatever fancy jewelry she could handle just for fun and then make a grand entrance. Her friends would laugh and cajole with her even while she was limping from walking with high heels she never was accustomed to. If there was a lady gaga in costume during her time, she was it.

In the later years of her life, mommy became very religious. She would attend prayer meetings, often hear mass and join bible studies. She and Tita Nena Garcia, her confidante and best friend, would be seen together in many of those events. Last year, there was an occasion where she graced a function intended for the widows/widowers of Bukas Loob. A young lady obliged her in a conversation and asked, “Tita Lolly, when diay namatay imong husband?” (Tita Lolly, when did your husband die?)
My mom looked at her with a devilish glance, “Na unsa ka man, inday (What ever happened to you?) I have two husbands and they're both alive.” After which my mom would guffaw to her hearts content.

Lately, my mother was not feeling well. And in many of our phone calls, she often reminded us that if anything happened to her, we were not to come home but instead move on with our lives. She had also told that to her sisters, who are all residing abroad. Then the inevitable happened.

Last week my mom was hospitalized and her health was slowly deteriorating. She was rushed to the hospital and stayed in the Intensive Care Unit, where tubes and medicines were her bed mates. My oldest brother Steve, who is techno savy, was burning the lines from facebook, emails, text messages etc , informing us of her condition every moment necessary.

Every day, I would cry when I'd hear that although she would respond to the medicine they were treating her for, another complication would arise. It was a roller coaster of emotions, because when you think you'd have hope for a treated finding, a new one would occur.

Then the inevitable thing happened. A life threatening decision of which only the immediate members of the family had to decide. We had to be pragmatic at the same time sensitive to the many issues presented. Is it about the quality of life she will go through if ever, religion?, money?, time?, relationships?

It is moments like these that make a family (even the extended ones) closer together. It is moments like these that you will know and realize who your true friends really are. And it is moments like these, when prodigal children, sibling rivalries and broken relationships slowly ties you back like the umbilical cord that you once had shared at one time in your lives. And that was a good thing.

A couple of days ago, we had decided to let nature take its course and ease her suffering by not allowing too many tubes poke into her. From the ICU, where she would receive only one guest at a time, we believed that she wanted to be with family, listen to them and be with them. So, together with only the necessary machine mates, she was transferred to a regular room. The doctor said we had to hope for the best and prepare for the worst...And that's just what we did....Wait, Pray and Love...

Yesterday, I had a chat with my sister. She said mommy's tube had been taken off, her color is returning and she is now on her way to recovery. She has started to talk but with a blur. ALLELUIA ! My GOD BE PRAISED!

Things are steadily getting back to normal. My mom is being herself again, arguing with the doctors orders of wanting to go home. Welcome back, mom! And in this comedy of life, my mom had the best laugh after all!

And as my tita would say........to be continued...sa susunod ulit na kabanata....(until next time)






my mom with 'the look"...you know, that kind that a kid knows there's something going on. Maybe mom was kinda upset that i wore my favorite dress which was too small for me revealing my undies..."but MOM, it's the trend nowadays to show your undies and I set the trend 50 years ago."