I prepared a meager breakfast and did some endless household errands. Then I sat on my bedside chair. Staring endlessly at the light that comes into the window.
It was a beautiful sunny morning. And it has reminded me of so many things. With news and the chaos happening outside this huge country, I was inside my room sitting- thinking so vulnerable doing so less while there is so many things to do in this world.
The land of Arabia and the limited freedom a woman has into this place sickens me more and more for the past 3 years. Yet working with sick people holds my view in reality closely.
I think that no matter how irrational people can be in an any point of view they believe in, we still end up dying, either in someone else's arms or in a hospital bed with your bladder-full nurse.
It was a beautiful sunny morning. And it has reminded me of so many things. With news and the chaos happening outside this huge country, I was inside my room sitting- thinking so vulnerable doing so less while there is so many things to do in this world.
The land of Arabia and the limited freedom a woman has into this place sickens me more and more for the past 3 years. Yet working with sick people holds my view in reality closely.
I think that no matter how irrational people can be in an any point of view they believe in, we still end up dying, either in someone else's arms or in a hospital bed with your bladder-full nurse.
Thoughts ran by and I wonder how it feels growing up with a father. I wonder what he will teach me while I'm in my teenage years. How will he handle my growing up views about life.
Perhaps not the things my mother always told me about cleaning and cooking, not the basic necessity of survival, not the budget and maybe not the future of what if's. Perhaps -with a balance of a male-mind domain- I would learn differently.
Like my older brothers tell me to enjoy life. My Kuya Plong would tell me to be sweet to win the heart of a man and my Kuya Jong to be my self and celebrate it.
Maybe not my mom's endless talk about I should be like this... "you should be and you should be."
I miss my father- just saying. I keep the memories like my only treasure. I remember him playing with me outside our house throwing me up and catching me. How light I was before. How he talks to me sweetly while I'm eating my snack in his office. How he would ask me what did I do at school and graciously I tell him about how I help tadpoles grow in a little pond beside the school garden.
To my dad, I can easily share the dislike of wearing shoes. And with my Mom forcing me to wear it for neatness sake. He watched my agony and when I am alone he simply gave me option to wear shoes when leaving house so my mother would not be upset and wear my slippers when I'm at school-and he smiles telling me that is because my tadpoles needed me. That was the best deal ever-so I did what he told me. Yet, I always think I wonder how life would be if he has lived longer.
Perhaps not the things my mother always told me about cleaning and cooking, not the basic necessity of survival, not the budget and maybe not the future of what if's. Perhaps -with a balance of a male-mind domain- I would learn differently.
Like my older brothers tell me to enjoy life. My Kuya Plong would tell me to be sweet to win the heart of a man and my Kuya Jong to be my self and celebrate it.
Maybe not my mom's endless talk about I should be like this... "you should be and you should be."
I miss my father- just saying. I keep the memories like my only treasure. I remember him playing with me outside our house throwing me up and catching me. How light I was before. How he talks to me sweetly while I'm eating my snack in his office. How he would ask me what did I do at school and graciously I tell him about how I help tadpoles grow in a little pond beside the school garden.
To my dad, I can easily share the dislike of wearing shoes. And with my Mom forcing me to wear it for neatness sake. He watched my agony and when I am alone he simply gave me option to wear shoes when leaving house so my mother would not be upset and wear my slippers when I'm at school-and he smiles telling me that is because my tadpoles needed me. That was the best deal ever-so I did what he told me. Yet, I always think I wonder how life would be if he has lived longer.
For the past days I have this thoughts, when I look at my friends telling me about their dad's support and security of having them. I somewhat envy them in a good way- as it always ends up of me asking my self how life will be if he was alive then I get my treasures back-those memories I just said and like a rolling film he was back then and there in my mind he was still so alive.
All through my 25 years of existence, only 9 years was the time I am with him. He was always around I can remember. While my mother travels from city to city. Everytime I arrive home, I always see my dad on his rocking chair reading. I'll put my bag on the floor and go kiss his hand-he blesses me with smile and then he hugs me back. My father fills me with sweetness. And I think he is as thoughtful as my Kuya's.
Every major occasions he would ask me to draw and make an authentic card especially mother's day. Making cards. That's the thing I tried to continue when he was gone. Deep inside me in every occasions is heartbreaking because it reminds me of him making effort to create a family. And like him I never receive any made card. And like him I am always the one giving out-thoughtfully well designed cards. I did told my siblings about that and of course, they tease and just laugh at my sentiments.
My dad- and in no way I will know how beautiful he thinks- now with my only treasure about him. I have seen his efforts to live each day with his loved ones. And everyday before we sleep he always says-I love you. Goodnight. I saw him living and reminding me and my sibling that life is all about around us, to be happy, to create a family that loves learning and to give time to those that matters in our life- and his kumusta ang skwela (how's school) made an impact to me. And going home for me is like telling him story everyday. He lived like he had a premonition that he will not live long. He might had a dream or that nagging intuition-well, I don't know.
All through my 25 years of existence, only 9 years was the time I am with him. He was always around I can remember. While my mother travels from city to city. Everytime I arrive home, I always see my dad on his rocking chair reading. I'll put my bag on the floor and go kiss his hand-he blesses me with smile and then he hugs me back. My father fills me with sweetness. And I think he is as thoughtful as my Kuya's.
Every major occasions he would ask me to draw and make an authentic card especially mother's day. Making cards. That's the thing I tried to continue when he was gone. Deep inside me in every occasions is heartbreaking because it reminds me of him making effort to create a family. And like him I never receive any made card. And like him I am always the one giving out-thoughtfully well designed cards. I did told my siblings about that and of course, they tease and just laugh at my sentiments.
My dad- and in no way I will know how beautiful he thinks- now with my only treasure about him. I have seen his efforts to live each day with his loved ones. And everyday before we sleep he always says-I love you. Goodnight. I saw him living and reminding me and my sibling that life is all about around us, to be happy, to create a family that loves learning and to give time to those that matters in our life- and his kumusta ang skwela (how's school) made an impact to me. And going home for me is like telling him story everyday. He lived like he had a premonition that he will not live long. He might had a dream or that nagging intuition-well, I don't know.
I wrote this on a mothers day and I am teary-eyed throughout my only day off from a week working. Life is ironic. I just had a whole day father's nostalgia.
I called my mom and greeted her happy mother's day- then there goes some litany. All the impending problems about money and how bad our government is. Oh God, I wanted to leave this land and I cannot give in to another lifeless year here. If only I can express it to her without a call like a fight. But its her day, I just let her but surely I'm just tired of keeping up as if I am stronghold.
I think I have really grown up-enough not to please anyone.
After 6 months, I did resigned. I arrived home chaotic as ever-I never thought it will be. With so little money saved and with most of them thought I am a millionaire. So no choice, I left again for work- this time farther home.
Like any other Filipino overseas worker, thinking you have put up some good thing so far yet ending up nothing. A total devastation. A major precipitating trust issue. Its like 5 break ups at once. A myocardial infarction at every thought. A DABDA (psychological grieving process) -and you are just stucked at Anger and Bargaining without moving through. But just to sour grape things-at least for me, I travelled a bit. And I learned. And will be learning a lot.
That things bought can be gone. Money does fly. And what you only and truly can have except if in some cases you will be diagnosed dementia are your memories. How well you handle yourself in life changing situation. How willing you are to learn. How long is your patience. How far you can love. How thankful you are everyday. How you can be kind when others are not. How beautiful life can be even how shitty things can be too. And how well you know by faith that soon it will be okay.
Now, I am carefree but kind.
Now this is life. And I love it terribly.
I called my mom and greeted her happy mother's day- then there goes some litany. All the impending problems about money and how bad our government is. Oh God, I wanted to leave this land and I cannot give in to another lifeless year here. If only I can express it to her without a call like a fight. But its her day, I just let her but surely I'm just tired of keeping up as if I am stronghold.
I think I have really grown up-enough not to please anyone.
After 6 months, I did resigned. I arrived home chaotic as ever-I never thought it will be. With so little money saved and with most of them thought I am a millionaire. So no choice, I left again for work- this time farther home.
Like any other Filipino overseas worker, thinking you have put up some good thing so far yet ending up nothing. A total devastation. A major precipitating trust issue. Its like 5 break ups at once. A myocardial infarction at every thought. A DABDA (psychological grieving process) -and you are just stucked at Anger and Bargaining without moving through. But just to sour grape things-at least for me, I travelled a bit. And I learned. And will be learning a lot.
That things bought can be gone. Money does fly. And what you only and truly can have except if in some cases you will be diagnosed dementia are your memories. How well you handle yourself in life changing situation. How willing you are to learn. How long is your patience. How far you can love. How thankful you are everyday. How you can be kind when others are not. How beautiful life can be even how shitty things can be too. And how well you know by faith that soon it will be okay.
Now, I am carefree but kind.
Now this is life. And I love it terribly.
