It was a time when most people heaved a sigh of relief as they get out of work. A time marking a precious moment with the family. I walked passed our street with a tired face, trying to ignore the people around me. But the scraping noise right in front of me was hard to ignore. I tried make out the image amidst the darkened street. At first, I thought it was a street dog ravaging the garbage bins, but the cart full of organized plastics and cartoons proved me wrong. As I walk nearer, the silhouette became clearer: a woman was carefully salvaging cans from the garbage bins. She was doing it with all calmness trying not to make any noise. As I pass by, I caught a glimpse of realization. Tucked inside the cart was a small boy, not older than my son Jas. He was sleeping silently.
I got home, went straight to the remaining loot bags my friends donated and went out, hoping that the woman and her child are still there. I left the bag with the carton sheets, making sure that the woman will find it for later.
I was filled with thoughts about the mother and child. The walk back home was much heavier when I was carrying the bag.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
What if I Died Today?
What if I died today?
Have I made a foot mark enough to make an impression?
Will my eulogy be made from someone else's quotes? Einstein or Coehlo?
Will my body be carbon dusts or worm feeds? Or will I make the choice?
Shall I be forgiven? Or shall I easily be forgotten?
Will my smiles be remembered after a year or two?
Or will I be remembered in my children's traits?
Will my children learn from me in my letters? in blogs? in social videos?
In friends' recollection with a bit of imagination?
Or in programs and games, easily stored as bytes of data?
Will they hate me for not being there in their puberty?
Will my best friend name his dog after me as a last piece of humor?
Shall I die trying to live, or will I live trying to die?
Maybe I won't know. Maybe it doesn't matter at all.
yes, maybe.
Have I made a foot mark enough to make an impression?
Will my eulogy be made from someone else's quotes? Einstein or Coehlo?
Will my body be carbon dusts or worm feeds? Or will I make the choice?
Shall I be forgiven? Or shall I easily be forgotten?
Will my smiles be remembered after a year or two?
Or will I be remembered in my children's traits?
Will my children learn from me in my letters? in blogs? in social videos?
In friends' recollection with a bit of imagination?
Or in programs and games, easily stored as bytes of data?
Will they hate me for not being there in their puberty?
Will my best friend name his dog after me as a last piece of humor?
Shall I die trying to live, or will I live trying to die?
Maybe I won't know. Maybe it doesn't matter at all.
yes, maybe.
Monday, January 18, 2010
AN EARLY MORNING GOOD NEWS
It's great how google search result would brighten my early morning. It's been almost a week since we've been fruitlessly finding news about my friend Tristan who is working in Haiti. I never knew that my googling his name and Haiti today would give me great news. His name appeared on the accounted safe OFWs there:
http://www.manilatimes.net/index.php/component/content/article/42-rokstories/9925-78-more-pinoys-accounted-for-in-haiti
http://us.asiancorrespondent.com/tonyo-cruz-blog/list-of-65-filipinos-declared-safe-in-haiti
The news was just posted a few hours earlier. I hope his family received the good news already :)
http://www.manilatimes.net/index.php/component/content/article/42-rokstories/9925-78-more-pinoys-accounted-for-in-haiti
http://us.asiancorrespondent.com/tonyo-cruz-blog/list-of-65-filipinos-declared-safe-in-haiti
The news was just posted a few hours earlier. I hope his family received the good news already :)
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
The Distant Cry
If my life, be a calamity,
then I would be the earthquake.
I would shutter the ground into pieces,
pull mountains to crumble beneath my feet,
reduce boulders into dusts,
and make the waves of the ocean chaotic with fury
I will make my presence be felt from afar.
I will cause havoc and fear to all terrestrial beings.
I will be the ending rumbling voice that will resonate long before silence.
And as mighty as I've risen from below, as horrid as my death will be.
Not bursting out from the solid soil.
But forever trapped into my own calamity.
As death decomposes to fragments
of bones and ashes and no more.
then I would be the earthquake.
I would shutter the ground into pieces,
pull mountains to crumble beneath my feet,
reduce boulders into dusts,
and make the waves of the ocean chaotic with fury
I will make my presence be felt from afar.
I will cause havoc and fear to all terrestrial beings.
I will be the ending rumbling voice that will resonate long before silence.
And as mighty as I've risen from below, as horrid as my death will be.
Not bursting out from the solid soil.
But forever trapped into my own calamity.
As death decomposes to fragments
of bones and ashes and no more.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
A Christmas Story
"I never expected Christmas to be like this" she said as she slowly clears the tears from her swollen eyes. "Me neither" was all the thought he would say, but the words went lost in confusion as he clears his throat in despair. So he simply drew her near to lessen the space between them, but the distance he made was too great to carry. She hid her face inside her hair and hands. He hid inside his closed his eyes. He felt her sobs and can only kiss her forehead. So he did.
The chants of carols outside tried to drown the silence. The glittering Christmas lights tried to consume the night time. The neighbor's laughter, the out-of-tune-videoke singing, the naughty kids' fire crackers, the raging cars and tricycles -- all tried to take away the moment. But they both know nothing would change their emotions. Nothing about Christmas would ever be the same again.
The sobbing faded into slow intervals, and he offered her a cloth for the tears. They looked at each other and nodded, understanding that there are presents to open, noche buena to share and Christmas songs to sing with the kids and the family. He held her hands and slowly they went down the stairs to be greeted by an actively busy boy shouting "Ma look at my gifts!" His eyes were wide with pure honesty and joy. He took his parents hands and lead them into the pile of gifts being rummaged. It was a picture-perfect Christmas scene, one which would remind you of a black-and-white Christmas movie: The one with the happy ending.
The chants of carols outside tried to drown the silence. The glittering Christmas lights tried to consume the night time. The neighbor's laughter, the out-of-tune-videoke singing, the naughty kids' fire crackers, the raging cars and tricycles -- all tried to take away the moment. But they both know nothing would change their emotions. Nothing about Christmas would ever be the same again.
The sobbing faded into slow intervals, and he offered her a cloth for the tears. They looked at each other and nodded, understanding that there are presents to open, noche buena to share and Christmas songs to sing with the kids and the family. He held her hands and slowly they went down the stairs to be greeted by an actively busy boy shouting "Ma look at my gifts!" His eyes were wide with pure honesty and joy. He took his parents hands and lead them into the pile of gifts being rummaged. It was a picture-perfect Christmas scene, one which would remind you of a black-and-white Christmas movie: The one with the happy ending.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Please VOTE for our WACOM 3December Entries
BLINKYhttp://3december.wacom.com/entries#9914
A creation of my sons' imagination
LOGANhttp://3december.wacom.com/entries#9916
Just a tribute to a comic hero
Sunday, November 29, 2009
In a Matter of 5 Minutes
I usually give Jas 5 minutes to play in his bath tub. It's his personal time without me scrubbing his delicate moments. It didn't occur to me that in such a short time, things unexpected may happen:
5 - Talked to Mom and Kuya about their special cooking as they plan to have one big hearty lunch.
4 - Got upstairs to check Jody and baby Nate
3 - Talked to Jody while playing with Nate
2 - Danced and Baby talked more
1 - Heard the commotion downstairs
I rushed in the restroom to see Jajas crying and shouting "Sorry Lola, sorry lola". He was being comforted by my kuya who seemed to be shocked himself. Seated nearby was my father hugging my mother who was soaked. My mother's face masked a pained expression. She was clearly hurt. My father simply said "Natumba sila".
Seeing how I reacted, Jas cried more and vomited as he shouted "Sorry Lola...Straight na ako sa Hell!" I simply shook my head. He was taken outside and was dried up in the kitchen. I found myself checking my mother if she was fine. She seemed to have broken something in her fall. I was asked to get a change of clothes, then handed the clothes back to papa and waited outside while I comforted Jas.
After drying up and checking her joints, my mom was supported by my father to the sala. She appeared unscathed thought suffering a mild sore left shoulder.
She told us how quickly it happened: How jas asked for support from the bath tub, how they slipped and fell and how she quickly placed her shoulder behind my son's head. Fortunately she was quick enough to prevent further accident to her and my son.
In a matter of minutes things turned from a delightful sweet lunch-cooking to an unexpected sour accident. In a matter of seconds I could have been there earlier to have avoided my mom getting hurt.
My mom is now fine with a few bruises, and my son now plays again.
I'm sure there's something good to learn out of what happened.
5 - Talked to Mom and Kuya about their special cooking as they plan to have one big hearty lunch.
4 - Got upstairs to check Jody and baby Nate
3 - Talked to Jody while playing with Nate
2 - Danced and Baby talked more
1 - Heard the commotion downstairs
I rushed in the restroom to see Jajas crying and shouting "Sorry Lola, sorry lola". He was being comforted by my kuya who seemed to be shocked himself. Seated nearby was my father hugging my mother who was soaked. My mother's face masked a pained expression. She was clearly hurt. My father simply said "Natumba sila".
Seeing how I reacted, Jas cried more and vomited as he shouted "Sorry Lola...Straight na ako sa Hell!" I simply shook my head. He was taken outside and was dried up in the kitchen. I found myself checking my mother if she was fine. She seemed to have broken something in her fall. I was asked to get a change of clothes, then handed the clothes back to papa and waited outside while I comforted Jas.
After drying up and checking her joints, my mom was supported by my father to the sala. She appeared unscathed thought suffering a mild sore left shoulder.
She told us how quickly it happened: How jas asked for support from the bath tub, how they slipped and fell and how she quickly placed her shoulder behind my son's head. Fortunately she was quick enough to prevent further accident to her and my son.
In a matter of minutes things turned from a delightful sweet lunch-cooking to an unexpected sour accident. In a matter of seconds I could have been there earlier to have avoided my mom getting hurt.
My mom is now fine with a few bruises, and my son now plays again.
I'm sure there's something good to learn out of what happened.
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