Mama

 It always amazes me how busy I get around the time of your birthday and anniversary. Like I am barely awake now having worked  all of yesterday till wee hours. I barely had the time to think about anything else. 

Almost missed the early morning Mass for you and was two hours late for our padasal this afternoon. I arrived at 'your place' wearing a blouse inside out.  It was straight from the computer, to grabbing that blouse, urging the kids and off to the car kind of thing. 

Is that your way of making sure I don't think much about you, Mama? 

Yesterday I cried in a middle of navigating a tricky skip logic in the tool (it was easy really but I just remembered you and missed you a lot). The good thing that came out of it was that Rod came to me, tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was okay. His angstsy, teen-age journey had somehow eased a bit of his clingy, touchy tendencies with me and his Tatay. So that touch on the shoulder and asking me how I was, was a gift in itself. I quietly told him, "I miss Lola." He stood there for a while, letting me feel he understood and felt the same way.

Oh, I remembered our silly fights as well, Mama.  Me, expressing my displeasure at your preoccupation with a particular afternoon telenovela.  Forest would watch with you at times  when she wakes up from her afternoon nap.  And we all know TV for her is a no-no. That is why we never upgraded our TV then. It wasn't a priority. But we love you and wanted to give what makes you happy so we kept that TV in the little room upstairs.  

Little did I know that one of Forest's most treasured moments with you were those afternoons.  Last week, she told me how funny it was to watch you rush downstairs to prepare her afternnon merienda and then rush right back up because you did not want to miss a single scene.  She was narrating how you would both race up the stairs, laughing and sit on the floor to continue watching.  You would watch the TV programme but she would watch you with fascination (and love, I could imagine). 

Now, I regret having made so much fuss about that. I could have told you to go watch all the telenovelas you like had I known you'd leave us so soon. I miss you, Mama but I know you are in a much better place. I feel that much of the relative 'ease' I'm enjoying amidst all these uncertainties could be partly because you are 'lawyering' up for us up there.  I could almost picture you hustling. Rest easy in God's loving embrace.

Bread

     We will Rise!

As we gather ‘round the table,

At the banquet of our King,
We lay down upon your altar
all our hungers deep within.
You may take all that we give.
Use our every strength or weakness
so that all the world may live.
When we eat this bread and in You believe,
We become Whom we receive.
And from death and strife, we will rise!
Fill us now with love and grace,
As we strive to be Your presence
That Your life we may embrace.
To reflect Your life and worth:
Make us all Your sons and daughters,
One in faith in You, O Lord. REFRAIN
We will rise!
Not death, not life, none on earth or above
Will ever separate us from your love!
In the breaking of the bread:
Pledge of future hope and glory,
Of our rising from the dead. REFRAIN
We will rise!

This song tugged at me while hearing Mass.  For some reason, I resonated with it and made me think about my work.  I had a skype call for the evaluation I was doing that overlapped with the Mass but I asked if I could move the call 30 minutes later, which was just perfect.  Happily, I was obliged. So right after the Mass,I proceeded with the call.

God's perfect timing really... The song was about bread.... being bread for others... and while I sat there with my set of questions, the 2 reps of the ESFVL Team we have in Syria described to me in detail the different challenges they had to contend with while implementing the project. Now, Syria is without question, one of the most challenging context there is.  Then you have the onset of Covid-19.  

When this was related to me -- "Women had to walk for miles, leaving children behind and unaccompanied at home, so they could get bread from the "nearest" town that has bakery," I felt the tears sting. But there were 20 other questions that I needed to ask so, I had to reign in my emotions.  

When the call ended, the tears did flow. I'm grateful for the teams and volunteers working closely on the ground, really. The challenges as they described them to me -- all happening towards the end of the project, during Ramadhan, with the distribution having to take place during the Eid Holidays -- all seemed insurmountable.  But they managed it just fine. Surprisingly, and also in a way, not that quite surprising really.  

I've always counted myself lucky, to be in an organisation where I get to meet very dedicated individuals who work long hours without complaints.  Smiling, joking around in the vehicle after waking up so early to manage a distribution under 50 degree heat for hours, without breakfast or lunch (not to mention the weeks and days of preparation that had to be done), is such a common sight. Exhausted definitely but you would see everyone smiling, talking about gorging on food while going back to the office...   Amazing, amazing women and men.  So gratefully to have come across them even in the most difficult and complex situations. 

I've said this countless of times and I'll say it again. I am grateful to be having this job. No matter the long hours and brain-wracking, heart-wrenching moments not that far in between.  I am privileged and everyday, the thought of it humbles me no end. It drives me to work even harder and to give myself even more into the work that I'm doing. I am in this thing wholly -- brain, heart, emotions, body, limbs, sweat, tears, happy smiles...  Thank you, God!

Vortex

I read somewhere that this Covid-19 crisis is actually just us being in a votex.  We're on a brink of transitioning to a new "normal,2 a new world and that we are just given a chance to sit and re-examine our bearings.

Where are you now? What is your "state of happiness" barometer?  What are the things that you currently value? What are the things that you hold close to your heart? Are they really as valuable as you think they are?  Are they really worth being held in your heart,devoting your time and life to?

So where am I?  I am currently in a job that I used to believe, helps define who I am.  In a way it does. It does.  Do I love my job? I do. I am grateful for having the job I have -- having the opportunity to contribute a little of me and the perks that went with it. It's a privilege to be earning my bread and butter, feeding my children, spending for their education and what-not's from doing something that I love to do. I am grateful for the opportunities for learning and self-growth as well; for the many wonderful souls I've met along the way; for the opportunity to sow love and light in my own little way.

At the same time, I am also exhausted, bone-weary and close to burnout.  The demands of my job is not easy.  It requires much thinking, heart, blood, sweat and tears.  But I love numbers.  I love analysing. I love thinking. I love being in the community, hearing their stories (albeit painful and heart-wrenching). I am happy to hear about their lives -- challenges, triumphs and all. I am grateful to be a witness to how indomitable the human spirit is. As to how generous can the soul be, still wanting to give even if they've just recently lost everything they've held dear.

It's being in a camp, interviewing people, imposing on their time, asking questions you are not sure they have answers to or are quite prepared to think about them amidst their situation.  And then, being offered the only bread they have, a fan, a seat because you are a guest in their homes made of makeshift tarpaulins and rugs.  How is that not heart-wrenching? How can that not one want to stop to simply be grateful to be in the midst of that? I am privileged.

Yes, I put long hours. I pour my heart and soul into every conversation I have in the community. I take pains in crafting the questions so as not to make them sound patronising, intrusive and or underlining the hopelessness they are already feeling.  Sometimes I would be spending hours pouring over documents I don't like to read really but had to.  Our pour over Excel files to try to make sense of the data yet being careful of tainting them with my own biases and prejudices.  There had to be that balancing that had to be done.  All the time.

Yet, I am also getting paid to be doing all these things. And truth be told, all those long hours are really self-imposed because of some inner barometer I measure my actions and work against. Everything had to be truthful and beneficial.  It had to have "real" meaning, whatever my own convoluted mind construe that to be.

But that is work.  How about the other side of the often coined "balance" -- work and life balance.  Where am I in my life?  I have a nice, comfortable house.  It was a love-work that was quite slow in progress.  Building this house took 2 to 3 years but really, if one is to count the little improvements here and there, growing this house took 8 to 9 years in total. It's how old Forest is and how long we've stayed in this house.   It's not as grand as per others' definition but it is how we've envisioned it to be.

That is the house.  How about it's soul?  The home part?  I have an angst-filled, almost-14 teenage son whom I am always in constant power struggle with.  I look at him and I see someone unhappy, angry, spinning out of control, hurting, afraid of failure thus short-changing himself and under-achieving.  I see a damaged soul in need of love but too proud and scared to ask for it or even to accept love when it is given.  I look at home and I try to search where in that angry or poker-faced, sarcastic demeanour was the sweet, little boy who was so full of mirth and was so intelligent?  Where was that boy who would read alongside me and delight me with conversations about ancient cultures and civilisatios?  Where is that sweet, little boy who would cry at the airport, not wanting to let me go or would tell me to "take care" when he knew I was off to some road, work travel after I dropped him in school? What had hppened? I knew full well what happened.

How am I as a mother?  I started so full of love and ideals of how things should be for my children.  I was and still am self-depriving, so driven to do everything for the children at the expense of my own wants and needs.  The children come first. There was no compromising that.

Now, I am just tired. Disillusioned at the state of things at home. There's oo much anger, distrust, pain, abuse.  We try our best to heal, make things alright but we have a beast in our midst. We are contending with a Jekyll and Hyde person -- too sweet and kind one moment and then explosive and hurtful the next.  Sometimes you don't even know what the trigger was.  It was an endless cycle of being hurt, wanting to give up to understanding and having to forgive again. All for the sake of the children, of having a complete family. But where are the children now?

I have an almost 10 year old daughter who told me over breakfast this morning how I easily give in when Tatay starts giving promises.  Promises he keeps until the next explosion you never knew what the trigger was.  Sometimes it's as trivial as voicing your own opinion or saying no to what he wants.  It'shaving that same daughter cower in fear as he threatens to overthrow all the food on the table or when he starts to attack his own son, her Kuya. It's her rushing to shield his Kuya from another blow.

My daughter-neice, who is turning 18, a full-grown adult a few months from now, who's happier and free-er when she's around friends than at home?  Almost adult but has no voice of her own; who readily does some chores that Kuya was supposed to do but refuse over some whim or another; who can and should be independent soon but had no answers to give when asked a simple question as to what she wants.

I'm in a 14-year old marriage that are full of happy memories true, even of real giving of the self and sacrifices from both sides.  It is a 14-year struggle of wanting things right, to change, overcome personal ghosts and be better. It's years full of defining dreams and working together at reaching them.  But it is also a 14-year marriage of broken laptops, cellphones, cabinets, diffusers, doors, door knobs.  It's one littered with physical abuse sometimes sparse in between and sometimes not quite.  It's all those years of struggle of wanting to understand, to forgive, to hope, seeing the abuser struggle to become a better person and then slid right back again.

It's me becoming angry at having to compromise, forget my sense of justice, having to fight back because I do not want the children to see a cowering, weak woman in the face of violence. It's me rushing to the side of my son, blocking blows, sushing-down over-deflated temper.  It's me asking myself the same question of whether to choose to let go or to forgive and start hoping again.

I remember when friends asked me why I have to choose him over a more "decent" someone.  I remember distinctly answering that it is because he grew up not truly belonging anywhere and hungry for love and me, having so much love to give.  Being my usual, naive, messianic self, I truly believed I can soothe all his pain away and fill up all that he lacked.  I thought I could "repair" him by all the love and understanding I can give.  And I tried.  God knows how much I did.

One thing I'm learning amidst all these is that I shouldn't have assumed that I could fill the role of a parent, partner, counsellor, fan, "encourager," personal coach all at the same time.  It took me 17 years in total doing just that but all for nought.  There's no helping a person who 'attempts' to change himself yet has an intrinsic belief that he is who he is and could not change at all. There's no helping someone who do not own up to his mistakes and blame it all on others instead.  There's no helping someone who is already expecting that all whom he loves would leave him in the end anyway. There were would be a battalion of concerned, soul-workers who love to see him through it all but all that amount of love does not have an effect on anyone who find it hard to believe that he is worthy of that love.  I've tried and rationalised all these years, finding again reasons to believe that he is worth another go, at exposing myself and my children to these abuses.  Enough.

If we are indeed at a vortex at the moment, at a brink of a new world, I would want to enter that world broken but on my way to healing and self-becoming.  I want the same thing for my children.  Indeed, I have so much love to give but I have given all that love outwardly.  I should have left a little something for myself.  No wonder I've been running on empty the past few years. My love tank is depleted.  So help me and my children, Abba.

Working from home

Tired. Overwhelmed.  This WFH arrangement, I think, is not healthy at all.  Every line becomes a blur.  You're working but at the same time you are constantly bombarded with other concerns from different directions.  I take it the kids are happy to see me around finally.  I am too!  But I guess I'm like everybody else who just trudged on into this quarantine, limited mobility and interaction...

Today

A lot of things happened today.  Forest throwing a fit every now and then, obviously seeking attention every time she sees me working.  This drove me a little nuts too, already pressured with work and having forced to do something I do not like -- seeing to reimbursements, liquidation and admin stuff. I find no joy in sifting through receipts, I'm afraid.

And I got irritated all the more as Tatay seems not helping at all and I had to prod him all the time as he was bent on doing his own thing while I balance both work and Forest's wanting some attention. (He must have noticed because he started making up for it in the afternoon)

Anyhow but there are two things that stood out for me today. It was Forest holding my arm as she ate her cereal for breakfast...

I just woke up and went downstairs with my laptop, plugged it in and settled to work.  I found her and Tatay preparing cereals.  Seeing me, she sat close to me in the living room and proceeded to eat.  Tatay on the other hand is close-by and also eating. I admonished them for again not eating at the dining table.  Tatay replied it's not a proper meal but a snack (rolling of the eyes here)/  They both went to the dining anyway.  To convince Forest, I told her I will sit with her and stay with her while she ate.  And so we talked. But it never escaped me that at one point, she was holding on to my arm while she ate.  It went straight to my heart.  She really must miss me.  All these tantrums (despite giving me more pressure than anything) are actually just her way of making sure I'm all hers.  That hand on my arm is like telling me that she wants to connect and that she's happy that I'm right there.  It's as if she is afraid I would flit off again any second.

And indeed.  While she was writing her journal (for her homeschooling session -- a situation that is brought upon us all by this virus), she wrote -- I'm grateful for Corona because Nanay is home.  She started with "Malipayon" and then not quite satisfied, she said she prefer to use "thankful." When I mentioned, "grateful." she wanted to use that word instead.  I was regretful I had to mention that as I did not want to influence her thinking.  I told her she should just use "thankful! as that was what she wanted to use first but then she whined and insisted she wanted to use the g word instead.  But yes.. my heart...

I'm just here, Forest.  While sometimes we might not be physically together, We're never really truly apart as I think of you and keep you close to heart all the time...

I'm Raising Good Children

I must admit there were a lot of instances of late that made me doubt that.  Seeing Rod's pre-occupation with his phone; his temper, answering back, throwing a tantrum and I'm beginning to think the opposite -- that Rod is turning out to be a horrible person; disrespectful and self-centred.  And then tonight, we picked Mama Fely up from her house.

Mama Fely called us up saying Mia and Eman has gone with their Mom and that there's only her and Nonon.  We urged her to just come and sleep with us here at the house for tonight.  As usual, she refused.  We compromised. We said we'd pick her up instead for dinner.  That way, I can also proceed with "bathing her in oils" (translation: haplas). 

I had some calls so while I got started with the "oil anointing," I had to stop.  I urged Rod to take over.  He was in a middle of an online game so I was expecting some "strong" resistance.  Instead, he put down his phone and spent a deal of time giving her Lola Fely massage.  It started with a back rub but I could tell he was doing it really well. It wasn't a "compliant" act at all, which was what I was afraid of.  I thought he would do a quick rub and then go back to his phone and his game.  Instead, he was really into it, talking to his Lola as well.  At one point, he stopped but only to put on "Moon River" and other old songs for his Lola Fely.  He then continued with the massage, accommodating Lola's request on rubbing it here or there, without complaint.  After a while, Forest joined.  They took one leg each and did a proper massage.  Ate Janin meanwhile was helping in preparing dinner.  We had imbao soup and some camote tops salad. 

Indeed, despite our "parenting a teenage dramas" of late, the kids are growing up with a good heart. It's there somewhere, beating warm and thoughtful, hidden amidst all these teenage angst and confusion. 

I'm hoping and praying they would trust me enough to listen to my "promptings" and urging (translation: nagging) and know deep down that I have nothing but their best interest at heart.

Thank you, God.

Drawing Strength

I was reading a very difficult document, Lord. It wasn’t difficult in the sense that it was badly written and thus difficult to understand.  On the opposite, it was well written.  It was difficult because it was about my work and the direction it is going to take.  It is difficult because my work is also my passion.  It is difficult because given all that, it would seem as if my life and future is hinging on it. 

And then You came blaring into my headphones.  And I just knew everything will be alright.  I know there are a lot of uncertainties up ahead. And I admit there are moments I become unsettled as well.  There are times, I would find myself worrying about the future too.  I mean, it if it is just me, I am not really that scared.  But put the children into the picture and then my usual peace and calm wavers.

“Humble King, holy One; Friend of sinners, God's own Son; God in flesh among men
You walked my road; You understand…” blared through my speakers… followed by, “Christ is enough for me…” I must say I am not as “religious” as I used to be but yes, definitely still “spiritual.”  I wouldn’t be able to carry all that I had to carry particularly last year, Lord if that wasn’t so. 

We’re making a big move soon, Lord and that occupies like 65% of my thoughts. Which apartment, which schools, how would we manage the expenses here with the payables back home as well... And then there’s this ongoing conversation around uncertainties at work…

But yes, thank You for finding me yet again today just when I was about to worry about uncertainties, you came blaring in reminding me of Your promises. I cling to that.

On Mama, Motherhood, Attachments and Unfolding...

I'm drowning, Mama. In grief.  I had such a crazy two weeks.  Little sleep.  Too much work and everything else in between.  Awhile back I was just fine.  I was happily doing the dishes, cleaning up the kitchen.  My housemate cooked me a traditional Malawian dinner.  So it was my turn to do the washing up.  The music kept me upbeat as I worked.

Now, as I settle here in the sofa, the same music brought the memory of you.  I'm thinking of our impending move and how we would be leaving you behind.  I was thinking of bringing along your photo. Have it in one of our rooms so it would still be like you are with us.  I am hoping that Aunty and Eric would pay you a visit sometimes. So you won't be too lonely where you are...

I miss you, Mama so much.  Just now i felt as if a big weight is on my chest, making it hard for me to breathe.. I do know you are now happy where you are...  No more pain and that feeling of being tired... Sometimes I think perhaps you miss us too... Or maybe not... knowing what you know now... But I also know that attachment is real too... But you have loved us well, Ma. Do rest in peace... Let me cry a little every now and then but don't worry too much.  You're just too wonderful thus we miss you in our midst.  And yes, there are regrets as well, aren't there?  Like I should have spent more time with you... 

I was thinking earlier, if itwould be my turn to see Rod slowly drift away as well as he carves a space for himself, I would totally understand. I would understand if he would forget me... and would only pay a visit whenever... Life would be exciting for him.. adulting would be tough... he would have responsibilities... he would be overwhelmed at the same time preocuppied with chasing after his dreams, his wants... And I would have to accept that... I'm thinking that is why I should also not stop pursuing my dreams and wants... So I do not just sit there, alone, waitng for my children to come and pay me a visit.. wondering and worrying about them a lot...

Well, I pray I would still be "awake" enough to know all this... to give my children wings when the time would come and not to be a slave of my attachments to them.  After all, as long as I live, my own unfolding continues... perhaps when the time comes, I would finally have the time to learn how to play a cello... perhaps, singing well into my grey years... 

He Finds Me as I Sit (and Think)

On my first day of finally settling in here in Nairobi, quite unexpected, but I was able to participate in a Mass celebration right away.  As I sat there, I felt validated again by God’s promise that indeed He finds me (or rather He would be there waiting for me), whether I cross an ocean, climb the highest mountain or be in a valley. I was beyond grateful and humbled. 

As if I needed convincing, one Saturday I found myself sitting inside an MOPH Shrine in a middle of an early morning Mass. The fact that our family family devotion that Mama started is that of Mother of Perpetual Help was not entirely lost on me. I sat there crying as the final hymn spoke of wanderers’ asking for blessings, guidance and protection. Am I not one?  Is God favouring me again by finding ways to ‘speak’ to me?

Finding time to read’s today’s gospel, again He found me while I was just going about my day. The gospel spoke of a lot of things – about Jesus’ defying an image of Him being meek and gentle by rebuking the Pharisee’s and calling out Herod Antipas as a (sly) fox. What struck me the most though was the picture that Jesus painted of God as a hen wanting (desperately) to gather all of His children under His wings.  It shook me to the core and I am fighting my tears right now, reflecting about it.

To me, the image speaks of so much love.  The gospel speaks about God sending one prophet over the other to bring His people back to Him.  And by back to Him, it really meant to be under His care and protection. And yet, as Jesus pointed out, Jerusalem killed them all.  And we all know that even God’s own son did not escape from the same plight.  The reading pointed out that the message of all those prophets is really all about God’s love and His wanting to follow His commandments.

I sit here reflecting on what that means exactly.  I was amused at one point as I caught myself asking, “Which so-called ‘sins’ are acceptable?”  It seems that my “very” human self is trying to find ways to be able to have my cake and eat it too. It’s like I was saying, “Sure, I can give it a shot – following God’s will but I want to also know whether there are certain licenses and ‘leisure’ I still can enjoy while doing so.”  Truly, human flesh speaking :) But then I grew sober when I got reminded by Jesus’ definition of following God’s will and that is to love God with all our hearts and to love our neighbours as ourselves. I readily told myself I do love God. But then again grew quiet as I reflect on how does that love translate into action?  Sure, my heart breaks and tears readily come to mind in as simple as listening to worship songs and reflecting on God’s love and faithfulness to me and my family.  It does not take much thinking though to be certain that, that is not enough. 

If I am to think of “key performance indicators” being the MEAL practitioner that I am, perhaps I could come up with 10 indicators or so.  But I am also thinking that my thoughts and ways would always fall short of God’s own.  What I may think as a way of loving God could exceed or fall short of what God may want and mean. 

I sit here and think that perhaps the journey alone – that self-journey or the finding of the self and of pondering on God’s desires for us—might just be what He asks of us.  Not some grand gesture or action that our human brains can conjure.  Maybe, it could be as simple as being our best self in every situation we find ourselves in. It could simply be, being mindful of our own talents and skills and putting that to good use or spending time to cultivate them even more. It could be as simple as accepting ourselves as who we are – strengths, faults and all – and loving our very selves because God created us so consciously that He lovingly knows of every detail as the exact number of hair on our heads (Luke 12:7).

Indeed, Your thoughts are not our thoughts, God.  And perhaps your desire is for us to continuously live in awe and wonder of all the great things that You do.  Sya nawa. 

Such is Your Way

Rehabilitating Mama's orchids before settling down to work. Such is your way Mama - you never took me aside to give me a step by step lecture on how to grow orchids. You taught by example. You and your handy pliers, puttering around my little yard. You showing up after a weekend from your house, bringing along some seedlings, or all those Kadyawan agri fairs, looking at orchids and plants of all sorts and then buying some for the house.

I remember how we would often look longingly at the expensive vanda's or cattleya's and would laughingly opt to buy minute seedlings of each because those are what we could only afford.  (We both are also quite stingy that way haha!)  

We would spend hours looking at all the plants. And often, we would have a phase. There was an instance we bought some fruit trees and fruit vines.  At a time it was ornamental plants, then cactuses... then airial, teeny-weeny plants hahaha  I remember how we would always look forward to going to those agri fairs.  We're too excited to know which plants we would want to buy next.  I remember that one last time we had where Rod got enamored with bonsai's and we had to pool our money so we could to buy one.  

Now as I tend to your orchids, Mama, with their yellowed, almost lifeless leaves, surprises me how I seem to just know how to take care of them. I guess you've led me through your heart. I miss you so much.

One Fine (Tuned) Sunday

Last week, Tatay and Rod had an episode again.  Instead of making it weigh me down as usual, I shrugged my shoulders, got on my knees and looked at the heavens.  I could only pray.  So it was a good thing that today Tatay sent me a video of  Rod trying out the piano.  He had been tellling his Tatay to get it fixed.  It's been a while since rain damaged it.  And Rod and/ or Ate Janin at the piano is always something that gives us some kind of a relief.  Because it meant Rod or Ate is off their gadgets.  What made me real happy though was when Tatay told me the four of them worked on the piano today.  And it seemed Rod has come around after keeping his distance again after the fight with his Tatay.  I pray sana tuloy2x na.  

What to Say?

So I couldn't again resist buying Forest an African dress at the Malawi airpot this morning. In the three months that I was home before this deployment, /we were always fighting over her bursting closet (and toys and stuff that is all over the house but that is another matter).  She simply has a lot of clothes.  And they are in these categories -- (a) clothes that is her current size and is currently wearing; (b) clothes she has outgrown and are too small for her; (c) clothes that she is about to outgrow and are a bit tight and uncomfortable to wear already; (d) some hand-me-downs from Ate Tunga, Ate Badak and Ate Nico that are still a bit large for her.

I've been wanting her to give away those (b) and (c) because even her (a) clothes are simply far too many.  She holds on to the former two however with so much fervor and kept telling me, "Nanay, I'm not yet ready to give them away."  She would even quote her Tita Jeni saying, "Sabi ni Tita Jeni, ibigay ko lang daw ang mga damit ko pag ready na ako." Hah!

Some of those (b) clothes though are those that Lola bought. I totally understand and honor her feelings of wanting to keep them. There are, however, a lot of those also that are simply too little for her.  For (c) clothes, we've compromised that she wears them often these days as her way of  getting ready to say goodbye to them. We agreed she would wear them once or twice as a way of saying goodbye and then we give them away.   At times she would relent.  Almost always though she does not like to wear them and would say she wanted to wear something "comfortable" and loose. And the old argument would start again with me insisting again that she gives away those clothes already!

This morning though while shopping I remember a particular incident before I left for this deployment.  Forest came to me and shared that a classmate told her she is "paarte" wearing trendy clothes in school. She shared further how she replied that she is only wearing the clothes I buy her from my travels because she doesn't want them to go to waste.

I was left speechless. I did not know want to say.  Even as a little child, Forest already loves to dress up.  Sure, we are the ones buying her dresses.  Everyone in the family is just too excited to have again a baby girl after a long while that we went quite overboard with the clothes.  They are not often expensive but a lot of them are cute ones. I guess, it's like having a live Barbie doll in our midst.  But even as a little child, she would choose what to wear by herself.  She loves changing too.  She simply loves clothes, period.  Year after year, she has her own taste in clothes.  And on certain days, she likes wearing particularl type of clothes -- skirt over leggings... stockings with her Sunday dress... etc. etc.

My first impulse was to tell her to yes, indeed, she needed to tone down her dressing up when she goes to school. She does not want to be too flashy.  But then, I caught myself.  I paused and thought if that was the right thing to say.  I thought how Forest's clothes for school are not really flashy and not appropriate. In fact, those that I buy for her are just good cotton clothes. Loose ones that would be quite useful for her activities in school.  Some though really just stood out because of the prints.

I'm thinking now, should I just let her wear plain, "color-of-the-day"t-shirt and pants?  She has plenty of those too. But often, when deciding what to wear for school she would reach out to the cotton dresses and bottoms I bought for her.  She likes them because they are comfortable and give her enough room for movement. Also, I'm thinking, what message am I sending to her by asking her to tone down her choices just because someone called her out? If I do so, is that also tantamount to "putting out her fire?" To not honor that part of her who knows exactly what she wants to wear just because we are too concerned of what other people feel and think?

There are already instances that I did just that -- asking her if she would pair a dress with sneakers instead of the Sunday shoes she is thinking of pairing it with. This, in an attempt to make it less party-like and more school appropriate.  Or, to wear her rugged, cargo pants instead of her choice of skirt over a pair of leggings.  And for what?  Because I don't want her to stand out far too much while in school. But those are her preferrences and I'm telling her not to just because.

Sure, I would draw the line if Forest would wear something inappropriate like something far too sexy to be age appropriate. But that's just the thing.  Forest herself do not like showing skin.  She does not like for her knees to show thus she found a way to still wear the skirts she loves by pairing them with leggings.

So there I was at that time telling her exactly how I felt-- "I don't know what to say, Forest."  On the one hand, I want to give her freehand at defining who she is, what she likes, doesn't like.  I would never want to commit the mistake of shaping her into someone who would limit her choices because of what other people think. I want her to embrace herself, love herself for who she is.  I wouldn't want her to think I want her to be a version of a person that is "acceptable" to everyone. That would be like saying I don't love her for who she is. Arrrgh!  To overthink no?

I thought I've already laid dow this overthinking tendencies to rest.  Come to think of it, I have, when it comes to making my own choices. I don't really overthink that much anymore. I let life and God be.  But I guess, when it comes to my children, I still do because I would always want what's best for them.

So what to say when Forest would again share with me a similar incident? I still don't have the answers.  For now, I'm more leaning towards letting her be as long as she is not hurting anyone or is not short-changing herself. I'm thinking now, we can't always help what other children would think or would say to her.  I don't want her to feel guilty for her personal choices. It's like being sorry for being who she is. I would never want that for Forest! Or all my children!  And as she relayed, she is finding her own words on what to say during such situations.  And I think, in a way, that is a mini-course right there for her; something that would prepare her as an adult when the time comes.  There would always be someone who would dislike her and her choices.  There would always be that instance when her choices would not sit well with others.  Nanay would not always be there to coach her in how to handle those things.

Baba God, help and show me the way!

Parables

Woke up to find an angry message from my teen-age son which ended with something like, "Don't give me speeches again as it would not change anything."  Right.  So full of angst huh?  It was heartbreaking but I guess being away gave me enough space not be drawn right into his drama. And slowly, I found the words.  Hal-way through, I began to realise why Jesus had to talk in parables.  Because it would make you think. Because the stories would draw you right inwards and engages you at the soulful level. Jesus indeed is so full of wisdom. And now, as a parent to THREE teenagers (including Tatay), I am learning and LEANING more and more towards Him and His wisdom. Abba God, help me.

Attending Mass in Blantyre and Remembering Mama

I feel grateful today since I was finally able to go to Mass.  In my past deployments, there hardly was any Catholic Church around. So it was quite difficult.  In Iraq,it was only on my last year and when I moved to Erbil that I finally got a chance to attend the weekly Masses (on Friday).

Today's gospel has been on Mary and Martha and how the latter was bemoaning the fact that Mary was not helping her in the kitchen, preparing food for Jesus and the other guest.  Mary was instead right where Jesus was listening to his talk.  In the Homily, the priest mentioned about balance.  I thought the stress would be on prayer as usually is the case when this was the gospel. The priest instead talked of the importance of creating a balance in our lives -- for prayer and for apostolic life.

The Mass ended a bit early.  There were less songs.  /t's pretty much like the noon time Masses back home.  Still, it was a blessing to have been able to go.  When I went out of the church, it was chilly.  Freezing even.  I was so desperate to get out of the cold that I went down right away when I car similar to the office taxi arrived.  It was embarrassing to find out later on that it wasn't the car at all. So I went right back tnside.

I missed you so much today, Mama. Days had been great. Working hours were long but you know how happy my work makes me. But yes, sometimes grief has a way of sneaking up on you. I saw some video of a celebrity couple moving into their new home. They made a trip down memory lane, reminiscing the time when they first lived in a small, rented condo unit up until this point that they are moving into a house of their dreams.

I resonated. I remember those times when we would crowd in our bedroom watching funny DVDs. We would all sit on the big bed --you, the children and myself, having the time of our lives. Loreto would be on the floor or would crowd next to us. So I searched through our family pictures and came acroos this. It speas of so much volume. It speaks of how much love you have given to us all.

I'm just grateful that God had given me the many opportunities to give back to you what you have given me... us.. the children. But they were not even half of what you have given me, us. I love you, Mama. I miss you.

Highlands

O how high would I climb mountains
       C                         G
If the mountains were where You hide
    Em                    D
O how far I'd scale the valleys
      C                  G
If You graced the other side


[Verse 2]
    Em                  D
O how long have I chased rivers
           C                   G
From lowly seas to where they rise
            Em                D
Against the rush of grace descending
        C                 G
From the source of its supply


[Pre-Chorus 1]
              C          D          Em
'Cause in the highlands and the heartache
               G                 D
You're neither more or less inclined
       C           D         Em
I would search and stop at nothing
            C
You're just not that hard to find


[Chorus]
G
 I will praise You on the mountain
D                                                Em
 And I will praise You when the mountain's in my way
           D                       C
You're the summit where my feet are
                                            G
So I will praise You in the valleys all the same
                              D
No less God within the shadows
                                           Em
No less faithful when the night leads me astray
           D
You're the heaven where my heart is
C                                           Em    D     C    G
 In the highlands and the heartache all the same


[Verse 3]
    Em                   D
O how far beneath Your glory
          C                   G
Does Your kindness extend the path
                Em               D
From where Your feet rest on the sunrise
             C                    G
To where You sweep the sinner's past


[Verse 4]
    Em                      D
O how fast would You come running
           C                       G
If just to shadow me through the night
        Em                    D
Trace my steps through all my failure
            C              G
And walk me out the other side


[Pre-Chorus 2]
              C      D           Em
For who could dare ascend that mountain
              G                D
That valleyed hill called Calvary
            C     D           Em
But for the One I call Good Shepherd
           C
Who like a lamb was slain for me


[Chorus]
G
 I will praise You on the mountain
D                                                Em
 And I will praise You when the mountain's in my way
           D                       C
You're the summit where my feet are
                                            G
So I will praise You in the valleys all the same
                              D
No less God within the shadows
                                           Em
No less faithful when the night leads me astray
           D
You're the heaven where my heart is
C                                           Em    D     C    G
 In the highlands and the heartache all the same



[Bridge]
              Em                     D
Whatever I walk through, wherever I am
                      C                   G
Your name can move mountains wherever I stand
                  Em                        D
And if ever I walk through the valley of death
                        C                   G
I'll sing through the shadows my song of ascent


              Em                     D
Whatever I walk through, wherever I am
                      C                   G
Your name can move mountains wherever I stand
                  Em                        D
And if ever I walk through the valley of death
                        C                  G                  Em    D    C    G
I'll sing through the shadows my song of ascent, my song of ascent
              Em     D     C     G
My song of ascent


[Pre-Chorus 3]
         C       D        Em
From the gravest of all valleys
         G                  D
Come the pastures we call grace
         C        D      Em
A mighty river flowing upwards
       C
From a deep but empty grave


[Chorus]
G
 I will praise You on the mountain
D                                                Em
 And I will praise You when the mountain's in my way
           D                       C
You're the summit where my feet are
                                            G
So I will praise You in the valleys all the same
                              D
No less God within the shadows
                                           Em
No less faithful when the night leads me astray
           D
You're the heaven where my heart is
C                                           G
 In the highlands and the heartache all the same

Oh Abba Father, how You find me everytime. 

There I was sitting here, trying to fight sleep as I try to do my work.  

Then this song came through the earphones and my whole being awakens.  

I am reminded once again how I am never really alone in this, huh?  

Whether I find myself in the midst of a city, in front

of a great mountain, somewhere near a dessert, an ocean, a sea... 

Your Presence readily makes Itself felt  just when I needed it the most or 

even when I am not fully conscious I do.  But yes, the timing is always perfect. 

Always, always...

Indeed my God, I would climb a mountain if I am to find you there.  

I would go where you lead mw, even if my heart bleeds at the thought of 

leaving my little ones behind. I would go even when I am full of self-doubt. I go.  

Thank you for your gift of Calvary and for showing us all the way.

I may not be perfect, always a work in progress but I love You. I love You. 

Even when I knew it pales in comparison to the love You have for us; 

even when I do not demonstrate it always, not in the same way that You always show 

just how much You love me.

Grateful. I am grateful Lord for everything, for Your grace, 

for everything you've showered my life with.

Oh! Forest

Talked with Forest yesterday over Skype. She immediately blurted out, "Miss na kita, Nay! Mingaw ang bahay wala ka." (I miss you, Nanay! The house is quiet without you). Now in hindsight, I could not help but smile.  I wonder if she was referring to the times I've been nagging her and Kuya (and practically everyone in the house) for it being such a miss and for not picking up after themselves.
But at that instant, I felt my heart drop.  I knew then what she meant.  Coz just the night before that I also struggled going to sleep, lying on the bed without feeling her beside me.

She then told me she had a surprise for me going up the stairs.  She showed me a tidy hallway, a clean bin with the broom right beside it.  All her handiwork. And my heart expanded.  That was never clean whenI was at home. There was always some things lying on the floor (either her toys or Kuya's mess). The bin would be overflowing with bottles of sugary drinks (Kuya's!!!) and some other stuff.  At times a bunch of trash would be swept at one side with the broom next to it.  It was a disaster and a scene that readily pushed my button. So when she showed me she cleaned it all, I knew she really must miss me...

That very same day, in the morning, we also had a quick call.  I was getting ready for the office.  It was 6 AM my time.  It meant around noon in theirs.  It was a good thing she was on a health break from school.  She was home.  It was Tatay who called me so I immediately asked for her -- "Si Forest, Tay?"  Tatay directed the phone towards his left where Forest apparently was lying down, trying to take a nap.  In jest, Tatay said, "Diara o, pangit na Forest." (Here's the ugly Forest).  I was expecting an exclamation of protest.  Instead she was besides herself with mirth, laughing so hard.  So I asked, "What is so funny?"  She replied in between laughter, "Sabi niya kasi pangit ako. Eh mana ako sa kanya so pangit rin siya! Hahahaha!"  (Because he's saying I'm ugly but I look like him. So it means he's ugly too! Hahaha!)   Haaay, this kid!


I miss you everyday, Anak. I miss your arms around me.

Odd

Last night, I had dinner with a colleague whom I've met for the first time in Addis Ababa some two or years back.  It was for a week-long learning review.  The odd thing was, it turns out that she and I will also be based, at the same time, again in Africa but in a different country this time --Kenya.  It'sreally funny how life works.  Sure, I know that humanitarian field is such a small world and you're bound to bump into someone you've worked with in a response somewhere.  But yeah, it's just funny thing is that you meet a lot of people along the way and there are those you think are just on a one-off thing and then only to have life surprise you down the road, a little later. 

Another odd thing is that I find myself in such a colorful country (continent as I will be travelling to another one in two week's time) just when I'm on a self-imposed to-wear-all-white-tops only state. It's as if life has conspired to make sure my days at this time would not be so bleak.  It's as if I am being cheered up from the sidelines as I give myself time to grieve.

But yes, as I look at the colorful fabrics here I can't help but think of Mama.  Of how she would love the fabrics here; of how there would be no more skype calls to tell her how colorful things are here.

Last week, tears just came when I made a mental note of what to buy from here (if I have the time) for home. I stopped short when it dawned on me that there would be no more buying pasalubongs for Mama.

Indeed they say life goes on and it comes with many surprises.  I am busy now with work and other responsibilities but often, grief also has a funny way of sneaking on you during odd moments.  I am grieving for you,Mama. It is not easy and yet somehow I feel your presence and how you're making certain that life goes on for me.  Even in death you are making your love felt.  May you rest in peace and find happiness where you are now, in God's loving embrace. 

Like Easing into a New Pair of Shoes

I’m in a new role (workwise) and quite frankly, I’ve had had bouts of self-doubt – Can I do this?  Can I do justice to this role? Am I ready to take this on? What about the role requirement that takes me out of my comfort zone – reaching out to others… Having to voice my opinions. 

I do voice my opinion, especially on things I feel so strongly about.  It’s having this feeling that I have to say my piece on everything we need to review and comment on that is something that makes me a bit uncomfortable.  I am always the type who chooses one’s battles.  If I see it as something that does not need underlining anyway then I just let the others do the talking.  There is always that someone in the room who loves to talk and comment and point out faults and what-not’s.  That’s not me.  Of late though, I feel pressured (perhaps just self-imposed?) to say something each and every time. 

Now that I think about it, perhaps, I am more of “hmm-there-is-something-wrong-how-can-I-help-change-that” or “what-can-I-do” type of person.  I prefer to just delve right in and see what I can help with to assuage the situation.  Looking back, I’ve always been that one who immediately rolls up one’s sleeves and go right into work.  I’m not saying there is something wrong with the person who loves to talk and discuss issues out in the open.  To me, each of us has a role to fill in, in this big drama called “Life.”  And ever since I’ve “adulted,” I’ve grown more tolerant of others and more cognizant of each of our “gift” into the world.

Imagine having a team composed of people who are exactly alike.  Like me, for instance who prefer to just sit back and let the more agitated ones do the talking.  Then we would all sit on an issue and trust the universe will do its bit to make it better.  Or, to slowly go our own way doing every bit we can and ending up duplicating our efforts.  The value of having someone who speaks out loud and agitate is that it forces people to discuss. This leads to being able to openly identify course of actions. Although yes, often, all this “agitation” can lead to hurt feelings (ego is more like it) and conflict, etc. etc.

So anyway, as I’m saying, I’m in this new role and is having these episodes of self-imposed pressure. It’s pretty much like being friends for a long time and then deciding to become boyfriend-girlfriend.  There was no pressure being friends. You get along just fine and actually enjoy each other’s company. It’s when you take a step further when everything goes awry. 

One begins to think, “Now what? As my boyfriend, he should be more this, more that…. Do this, do that… Be this, be that… to me as his girlfriend.”  When one becomes the girlfriend, the once spontaneous getting together becomes more strained.  “What should I wear? How should I greet him when I see him? How should I be around him?” These things we never even bother about in the past but just because of this new “role,” we have certain expectations and begin to have certain uncertainties.

I feel I’m in the same predicament as of the moment. The previous role, I can do even with my eyes closed.  Everyone knows it too.  In this new role though, I have certain assumptions as to how I should act and be.  And it is not easy.  I have to remind myself several times that those in the team with me are so busy (just as I am) that they do not have time to think about my self-thought inadequacies. I have to remind myself that we are not in competition with each other because each of us has our own niche. I have to remind myself that perhaps, for all I know, they could be rooting for me to succeed in my role. 

I’m on my first deployment now in my new role. And I’m doing just fine.  Grateful for that.  It’s doing something that I know so well again.  

I am now allowing myself to breathe, hoping that everything would be just fine.I know I’ll find my stride yet again in this new role. So help me, God.