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I have transferred all my posts there. I hope that you will still continue reading my blog in its new home. And I hope you update your bookmarks and blogrolls so that you will automatically be linked to the new address. Thank you!!!
I was trying to wrap some gifts this morning, while watching the early morning show, Umagang Kay Ganda, when the news about the fire in Pasay City hit me. Around 250 families were left homeless after the blaze destroyed a squatter’s area in the said city yesterday afternoon. What struck me further was when the fire victims were interviewed, and appealed for some basic stuff for them to be able to live decently – water, food, banig, blankets and used clothes.
My heart just sank watching a young couple embracing and comforting each other while looking at their burning house. An old lady was teary-eyed as she told the reporter that she has nowhere else to go. The children were hungry.
What if this unfortunate event happens to us (knock on wood!)? And it is barely a week before Christmas…
Just last week, I wrote my last post about the many blessings I received this year. I tried counting the wonderful gifts from God, and I found it difficult to stop counting after I realized that I was indeed blessed with countless miracles. But then, after enumerating and appreciating all these blessings, where do I go next?
Sometimes we tend to complain about the holiday season. There is so much traffic. It is difficult to get a ride. The malls are so crowded. The schedules are so hectic because of the number of Christmas parties that need to be attended. New clothes need to be bought for the occasion. Etcetera etcetera.
The fire yesterday in Pasay City made me reflect on my blessings – that I should not merely count them, that I should not just appreciate them and thank the Lord for them. I think I should open my eyes wider and look at the people around me. Not everyone is as blessed as I do, and some does not even have the most basic stuff that I am enjoying. I am sitting here at the comfort of our living room, on the carpet watching tv and at the same time typing on my laptop drinking coffee – while there are people outside whose stomach are crowing.
I saw some aetas asking for some alms along the busy roads of Meycauayan – they do not have a decent place to sleep in. Some of my patients might not even get out of the hospital in time for Christmas. My work colleagues in Riyadh who did not get to come home this December are surely missing their families. Some of my friends who lost their loved ones this year, will surely be having a not so joyful Christmas. Carlo Cruz, who lost his wife in the Glorietta 2 blast, will be longing for the warm company of a spouse this cold holiday season.
I know I cannot change the world, and I cannot make every living creature in this place comfortable. But I think it would help if I start in myself being contented in what I have, and stop whining about little things. The world is not perfect and not everybody gets a very good life. I am lucky to be alive, with all the wonderful blessings around me. I may not get all that I wanted in this life, but I am getting what I needed. I think that is more important.
The holiday season is a time to share our blessings with the less fortunate – not just the poor – but to those who might be needing other than physical gifts. Some might be needing just a simple company, or somebody whom they can talk to. Some might need a hug and be reassured that things are going to be okay.
Let us, in our own simple ways, contribute in putting up smiles this Christmas season. Share a piece of yourself, a piece of your blessings.
Have a blessed Christmas.
I am sure I can add some more in this list. I can go on and on. These are just some I can think of right now. There are other things worth mentioning, but I suppose this list will not stop if I continue going on and on. I actually just planned to reach up to #50, but then I can’t help but add one more
Let me also mention that some blessings listed were there all the time, meaning, they did not appear in my life only in 2007. But my coming back and staying in the Philippines made me realize their worth more. Experiencing life with your loved ones is simply one of the best ways to live in this world. Staying in the country for a while is one of the best decisions I have made in my life.
Like other people in this planet, I also had my shares of some not so good events this year, but I think I should just forget all about it. They are not worth mentioning. What is important is that the good stuff outweighed the bad stuff this year. But hey, I think misfortunes are blessings, too. It is from them where you learn new lessons of life.
A few more days till 2007 finishes. The year has been very good to me. I could not ask for more. I just wish that next year will be as good, if not better.
Have you counted your blessings, too?
Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, everyone!
Yes, I called you Inigo. I know we are still uncertain as to what you will be – a boy or a girl – but we decided to give you that name provisionally, until tests confirm of your sex. I did not give you that name because I wanted you to be a boy. I just want to call you by a name, that’s all. If you become a girl, it wouldn’t matter. My love will be the same. I love you unconditionally and undoubtedly.
Welcome, my child, into this world. I am your father. You may not see me yet, but I know you can hear me, not my voice, but my feelings from within. I may not see you yet too, but I can feel your presence in my heart.
From the day I realized of your existence, I knew I found true happiness. Everyday that you were growing inside your mommy’s tummy, my emotions are growing as well. My love for you filled my heart as well as some worries of how I could possibly give you everything in this world and keep you safe from any harm.
I can’t believe that even as I sit here writing this letter, a child of mine is growing, getting bigger and bigger, stretching his little arms and legs and doing everything he can do to get himself ready for the world. I am so anxious to meet you, Inigo, and get to introduce you to your family.
Your mommy is so excited, that her eyes light up whenever we talk about you. Who will you look like? Will you have my dimples, or will you inherit your mom’s long limbs? Will you be as smart as mommy or will you work as fast as daddy? Ah, so many questions! And we will just wonder until you come here with us.
As I feel the excitement and joy, I am also scared while being overwhelmed by all the new responsibilities that lay ahead. I know that I should take good care of your mom while you are still inside of her. When you come out, I will be taking care of the two of you, and your brothers or sisters when they come out next. I just wonder if I can be a good father to you, and if I could be able to provide for all your needs. I wonder if I can always be available if you need somebody to talk to. I wonder if I can be the ideal father you want me to be.
There was a time in my life when I had wants and desires. Now that you are here, my prayers, dreams and hopes are for your happiness and health. I want to protect you from every hurt, pain and disappointment in your life, although I know that would not be possible, or even helpful to you. But as long as I live, you will have me as a friend, well-wisher, nurturer, guide and guardian. I will be your father. I may not be a perfect father for it is something I haven’t done before and it is something I cannot rehearse, but I can try to be the best that I can be. I will not ask anything in return, except for your respect to me and to your mother as your parents. To be honest, I worry so much about you right now, that you will not be able to get all the things you need to grow, that something is going to happen and we might lose you. I was talking to my friend the other day and I was talking about you and how I couldn’t wait for you to be born so that I could stop worrying about you. Then a thought struck me: I will always worry about you. – when you are 5 and headed out the door to your first day of school, when you’re 16 going on your first date or when you’re 26 and you have children of your own. I guess that’s a parent’s destiny in life, to worry about his or her children.
I have always said that I would not be one of those silly parents who sneak into their children’s bedrooms and stare at the tiny rise and fall of their chests just to make sure that they are still breathing. Now I confess I will always sneak into your room to stare at you. I guess parents don’t do it just to get the reassurance that their children are still alive; they do it so that they can be reassured that this miracle is still there, that they were not dreaming at all.
Do you know that you make me so proud? I could not believe that God has blessed me with a precious gift, a treasure. At times, I have felt unworthy of such a great task as nurturing a life. But I knew, He gave me you because He knows that I can take care of you.
One thing I should tell you, my precious baby, is that life is going to be hard. The world is not perfect and you will have your shares of bad times, too. But you can be sure of one thing: no matter how hard life is, I will love you. There is nothing in my eyes that you can do that will make me not love you. I may not be perfect, as I may stumble at times and I may even fall. But none of us knows everything, sweetheart, but I will do my best to teach you what I know and help you to learn what I don’t. No matter what your dreams are or how high you choose to reach, I will stand beside you.
I make you a promise now, before I even see your eyes or your tiny smile: You can be who you choose to be. I will never try to change you to suit my mold. I will always respect your independence and sense of self. Even if it hurts me to standby, and let you make your own decisions, good or bad, I will do it with only gentle words and kind persuasions. I may raise my voice in anger at times, but know that I do it because I love you and I want nothing but the best for you. I love you, Inigo, and when you are older and think that I do not understand you or know who you are, understand that I do. I know everything about you. I know every part of you, because I am part of your creation. From love you were conceived and in love you will grow.
For the meantime, promise me to hang on securely inside mommy’s tummy until you are big enough to come out and meet us. Try to make yourself as healthy as possible. I will be waiting here in the outside world. Mom and dad love you so much. See you soon.
Love, Dad
She arrived half past eight, and she already bought a test kit on her way home. We read the packaging and to our dismay, it recommended to obtain a weewee sample early in the morning, when the concentration of Human Chorionic Gonadotropin (HCG) is highest in the urine. Ugh, I’m a nurse, and I should know that! I guess, when you are excited, you tend to forget a lot of things… And so we decided to postpone the testing till the next morning.
For the last months, it was almost every day that we were asked by our friends and relatives as to whether she is already pregnant or not. Everybody was just expectant as much as we were. It was frustrating at times, especially if her period arrives. We would just hug and comfort each other reassuring ouselves that God has a definite time for that.
I wonder how we fell asleep that night. We kept on talking “what if” dialogues. We sensed that we were not alone together anymore. It’s a vague, but inescapable feeling that nothing will be the same. We suspected that a baby might be on the way! Although it was still unconfirmed, intuitively, we knew that it was true.
Just five months ago, Didith marched up the aisle to me, her beautiful face and brushed-up hair framed in bridal white. Up to this day, I still get the thrill of hearing “Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Bautista” and thinking of myself as her husband. I have adjusted to be being a married man. Now I feel I need to start adjusting being called a “daddy” and having a son or a daughter.
The following morning came and we were both excited to get up. We are usually sluggish in the morning, finding it so difficult to get up and get ready to work, especially if we are in our Antipolo house. But that Saturday morning was different. Although I really needed to get up early for my work (I work on weekends), the reason to rise early was more inviting.
We both decided to do the testing in our bedroom. The bathroom is downstairs and my parents would catch us doing our thing there. We did not want them to get disappointed as well, if a negative result comes out, so we decided to do it more privately. I accompanied my wife to the bathroom door and gave her a small plastic cup so she could collect a sample of her morning weewee. We then went back to our room.
After preparing the pregnancy test kit on top of our bed, we drew a sample of the urine using the pipette supplied in the package. We placed five drops on the small window at the lower part of the device.
In about 3 minutes, two distinct purple bands appear one after the other on the adjacent window of the device. The first band was a bit pale, and we got confused in a while. But after confirming with the packaging that the pale band still indicates a positive result, we then concluded that our strong suspicion has been confirmed. My wife was indeed PREGNANT! It was a beautiful and intimate way to share the first certain knowledge that we were no longer simply us.
It was one of my happiest moment. But the crappy luck I have dealt with my whole life trained me to subconsciously suppress excitement for a yet to internalize the situation. Seconds later, I felt happiness surround me. My wife was just as glad. The room was filled with so much joy and love. We thanked the Lord for this great blessing of a new life.
After I dressed up for work, we went to my parents and announced the big news. They were ecstatic as ever! It’s their grandchild!
I went to work as expected. Everybody in the hospital noticed my very pleasant mood, as if a smiley was painted on my face. Who could blame me, I was in 7th heaven. I was supposed to work 16 hours that day (8 hours in B.A. Hospital and 8 hours in Dr. Yanga’s Hospital), but I had to cut it short a bit to get home early. I just could not wait to be home and be with my family.
They say that marriage is a union of two souls. Literally, word for word, it is difficult to understand. I found it hard to comprehend in the past. Immediately after marriage , I defined the union of two souls as the sharing of life, love and happiness. The union of souls is two separate souls becoming one in a balanced harmony. But now I believe that it is all of that and more. It is the creation of new life. A life that will possess a part of each of the two souls. A life that will be brought forth in the form of a child. I now know that a piece of my soul has been absorbed, combined, or intertwined with that of my wife’s. I now know that a piece of my soul has joined a piece of hers and created a new life to symbolize that union.
The day ended, but not my joy. I know that day was the beginning of some major changes in my life, but it will also be the start of a long, and happy journey ahead.
I got to know her first as my English 1 teacher on my first year in college. Professor Jovita H. Orara was a very strict teacher. She was like a visiting professor from UP then. My classmates feared her because she would use her UP style of teaching in her classes. But later on, we found her very friendly especially outside the classroom. She was like everybody’s grandma.
After the first semester, she was appointed Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. During that time, there was no CAS existing in our school, and that meant that she needed to start her office from scratch.
That time, my parents have told me that our finances cannot support my nursing studies anymore because of the expensive tuition fees in our school. I was told that I should transfer to Bulacan State University, and shift to another course, hence I will not be able to continue my college studies. During that time, tuition fees in BSU is very cheap (as compared today) and so affordable especially for less privileged students. I felt terrible then, because I really wanted to finish what I have started, and become a nurse.
Having been regarded Professor Orara as a friend, I told her about my dilemma during class cards distribution. She was quick to suggest that I work in her office so that I will not have to pay my tuition fees, so that I could continue my nursing studies.
My parents did not object, and I promised to them that I will try my best to balance work and studies in order to graduate in time. They supported my decision and believed that I can pursue the goals I had set for myself.
During my stint as a student assistant for Dean Orara’s office, I came to know a lot of things that I still value up to this day. My tight schedules taught me how to value time. I would wake up very early in the morning to study, and prepare for my nursing internship in hospitals. After my hospital duty, I would rush to Dean’s office to do some errands, and some paper works. Later, I would be seen attending my classes until 7pm. I would also accompany Dean Orara home, a trip from Bocaue to Quezon City (where she lived), and back, on Mondays and Wednesdays. I would be home by 9 to 10 pm.
Ma’am O (I got used to calling her this way) also taught me how to become organized. I absorbed her system in running her office. I made sure memos were signed by receiving persons, corrected even the smallest typographical errors, and made sure files were labeled and in order. I was made to manage a small library, which further improved my organizing skills.
I was made to deal with people more often. I was a timid person initially, but got over it after I dealt with different kinds of people as part of my work. I helped in the enrollment process where I got to deal with students. I assisted teachers with their work. I circulated memos. I was made to visit teachers in their respective towns. I was introduced to the UP community. I got to watch quality movies, stage plays, and ballet performances.
My values enriched as she taught me a lot of life lessons. She would tell me stories about her struggles in life and how I should get inspiration from hurdles and impediments. She trained me to become a strong person, enduring the sometimes harsh realities of life.
After graduating, I was then absorbed by the same office as an Office Assistant. Later on, I found a nursing job, and I found it difficult to leave the place. But even after leaving my office work, Ma’am O and I never lost contact and she remained my mentor for life. Whenever I needed to make tight decisions, it was her that I would consult. She considered me as the son that the she never had.
She would also call me if she needed some help. And I would always come running at her doorstep. We started a unique friendship. When I went to work abroad, we remained in touch through phones, letters and cards.
When I was about to get married, I found it difficult to tell her. I knew I would break her heart, as real mothers would. And break her heart, I did. She felt so sad when I announced my wedding. But I knew that was just an initial reaction. I knew that she was just worried if I was making the right decisions in life, just like any parent would think in that instant.
She does not usually attend weddings, unless it is her daughter’s, I know that. But she attended my wedding. Mine was an exception to the rule, ah!
Today is her 81st birthday (Nov 15). We celebrated her birthday in her office yesterday, together with her faculty members. I think this is my first time in five years to be in the country for her birthday, so I really made an effort to be present. I bought her a cake from Red Ribbon. She just sent me a text message this afternoon telling me that there has been a lot of food during the day, but yesterday’s cake was still the best, not because of the taste, but because it has full of love. Whew! So inspiring…
I owe a lot to Ma’am O and words cannot just measure how much her contribution is to my life. She made me become who I am today and she will be part of who I will be tomorrow. I will forever be grateful for having been blessed with a second mother.
I was 11 years old when I started making my own version of comics. I folded bond papers into two, and stapled it in the middle, just like local genuine comics would do. I would draw girls in flashy clothes for the cover. The contents would include children poems, short stories, comic strips, and other works of fiction, all brought about by my very wild imagination. A friend suggested the name FRIENDS COMICS. And that started it all.
I would then let my classmates borrow my masterpiece and would allow them to write anything they want – comments, suggestions, greetings, and sometimes literary contributions. I enjoyed the response I was getting, as my classmates enjoyed the entertaining reading material that I created. It then became a weekly publication. My sister and my neighbor once borrowed the comics and brought it to their schools. Instantly, I had readers outside our school waiting for the following week’s issue.
I continued making comics until I entered high school. I grew up with my readers, and as my readers and I matured, the contents developed as well. The article contributions included older-themed poems, advice columns, watercolor artworks, and even love song lyrics.
The use of photocopiers, scanners, digital cameras, computers, and the internet, was not as popular before as it is today. So the limitation in modern technology was a factor in mass-producing a personally-crafted weekly-published comics. My comics remained as a single copy, passed from person to person, until it comes back to me, when everybody has finished reading – and writing their own literary and art contributions. Its being a single-copy-comics had its advantages though, since it allowed my friends to write down on the pages personally, so that the next readers would read what they wrote. The early readers would come back reading the comics again, so that they will be updated on what has been added.
The weekly publication was ended by a farewell issue dated March 1992, just before our high school graduation. I wanted to continue it during my college years but my college studies did not permit me to do so, since I took up a very demanding course.
Fifteen years after I stopped making comics, I stumbled upon piles of my masterpieces in my old monobloc boxes. As I opened each pages, I started a time travel, and I was brought back into my younger years. How I laughed at my old corny jokes, and artworks as I child!
The comics issued when I was in high school were even more interesting. My classmates’ writings and contributions were a reflection of how colorful teenage years were. There were revelations about crushes and even word wars among friends. Two of my friends who have already passed away were made to live again by their writings. Ah, what a way to reminisce! I realized I never lost those joyful times of my childhood, as they are wonderfully inscribed forever in the pages of Friends Comics.
And hey, before I forget, I should give credit to my special friend who gave my comics its name – she is now my wife.
If you know Friends Comics and is interested in revisiting the past, visit http://mhphs92.blogspot.com. I started posting scanned pages there. Join me in my time machine! I assure you it will be a very interesting journey!
Following up nursing students inside the hospital was not really new to me. I handled foreign nursing students when I was in the Middle East. Patients there were quite demanding, and meticulous, and so I learned how to make sure that the students were knowledgeable of the procedures they were performing even before going to the bedside, otherwise I end up being reprimanded by the patients themselves.
I had three groups last semester, most of them were fresh from high school (meaning, not second-coursers). Some were still having doubts as to whether they should continue with their nursing course or not. Some were just influenced to take their course by the people who are financing their studies. Some were just plain pasaway.
After finishing the first semester, I learned a lot of things about clinical teaching. First, I realized that even if my job as a teacher should focus on making sure the students gain enough knowledge during their clinical exposure, it is still the patient lying on the bed who should be my utmost concern. Before making any procedures to the patient, I should make sure that he is comfortable and that he is confident with his caregivers, even if they are just students.
I also learned that student nurses can be taught self confidence by actually making them perform procedures by themselves (with supervision, of course). I sometimes get doubts as to whether I should allow the student to perform the activity or not. But by initially assessing the student’s knowledge on the procedure, I get enough trust on the student that he will finish the task successfully. And by making him actually complete the job, he builds the confidence necessary to gain the patient’s trust.
Lastly, I learned the value of sharing knowledge to the people who are thirsty of it. It is indeed a privilege and honor to be part in molding young minds who will become professionals someday. When my students thanked me after their clinical rotation ended, I felt that they gained a lot of knowledge and skills, and that I made my own contribution in uplifting the standards of the nursing profession.
I should say that I enjoyed my stint as a clinical instructor. The experience was worth it.
His story was not at all different from stories of people who lost their loved ones from tragic accidents. But what made it different (at least, for me) was when he posted an email sent to his egroup appealing for everyone to cherish their loved ones while they are still here. I wished then that somebody would send me a copy of the post. Minutes later, I was found checking my yahoo account, and alas! a friend of mine sent me a copy of the letter the previous day. Let me share to you Carlo Cruz’ letter story… Good day everyone, I wish I were writing under different circumstances. I would like to inform you that my wife Leslie Cruz was part of the casualties in the Glorietta 2 Mall bombing in Makati City, Philippines. She was supposed to have a minor out patient surgery at Makati Medical Center at 230pm. I had taken a leave from work to accompany her there. We dropped off our daughter, Amber, at my parents place in QC to babysit at around 10am. We then proceeded to Makati and was there at 1230pm. Since she had been fasting in preparation for her procedure, she wanted to move around and listen to some music while I grabbed a bite to eat. We parked at the basement of Park Square 2, and headed for the Glorietta 2 entrance. We parted at the top of the escalator, she turned right towards Filbar’s while I went left towards the restaurants. That was the last time I would see her. Around 120pm, she had called me so that we can meet at the Glorietta 2 exit just in itme to make her appointment. As I made my way there from Glorietta 1 through the connecting hallways, and was about to turn the corner, I heard 2 deep thumps and the shock-wave from the blast hit me. At that moment my heart dropped as I knew that the origin of the blast came from the same place where we were supposed to meet. I tried getting to where my wife was, but the dust was too much and it was as if I was staring at a white wall. I still tried to convince myself that she was able to make it out, and that after ringing her mobile without a response only meant that she dropped it in the confusion. After 6 hours of searching from Makati Med to Ospital ng Makati, the blast site, and back again toi MMC – with the help of all the people I could get hold of, that I was able to get confirmation in what the state of my wife was. My Dad and Uncle signaled me in from the ER of MMC. My uncle (who’s a doctor) asked me to describe Leslie’s appearance to another group of doctors. I saw in the eyes of one that the description made sense. Instead of confirming it to me, they huddled together, then brought me to a small examination room. It was only through a digital camera that I was able to confirm (and deny) that she was indeed gone. I have so many regrets. I should have met her sooner. I should have ran instead of a brisk walk. I should have not chose to park where I did. I should have braved the dust and went in the blast site. I should have…
I am glad that Amber’s too young to understand the loss and pain. In time I would lilke to tell her the details of how her mother died, but more importantly, I would like to raise her as how her mother lived – a loving person, strong-willed, decisive, caring, and nurturing. She has always cared for her family and friends, and sacrificed her career for being a full-time mom and home maker. As with all couples we had our ups and downs – none of which I regret not going through. The sweet is never as sweet without the sour. For almost 4 years of marriage, we’ve finally hit our balance in life only to be taken away in an instant. I have no regrets about our marriage. She has loved me and Amber beyond her capacity. I will always love her. It is my first time to write to egroup as I’ve lurked and watched emails being sent to and fro. All I want now is that for each of the couples here is to cherish each moment that we spend with our loved ones. Pretty simple to say, very easy to take for granted. Thank you for all the prayers. I would still like to ask you to please include Leslie in them until her 40th day so tha the path to God’s kingdom is well lit and she is no longer in the dark. Sincerely, Carlo Cruz On November 1, most of us will go to the cemeteries to visit our loved ones who have left us. Candles, flowers, and most importantly, prayers will be offered. Some will even bring food (especially our Chinese friends). While we are there, let us reminisce the times when our loved one was still alive, when he or she was still around. Let us celebrate the life that was. And most of all, honor the contributions his life made to yours. Lastly, we should remember that as we commemorate those who have departed, we should appreciate the presence of those who are still with us, while they are still here. Like Carlo Cruz, we do not want to say “I should have done this or that” after our loved ones have left. Let us do today what we can do today to show how much we appreciate the people around us – our parents, our spouse, our children, our brothers and sisters, the people in our community, our friends – people who, in one way or another, contributed to making our own lives happy and comfortable, people who are continuously touching our lives. Let us give our honor and thanks before it is too late. Allow me to thank Carlo Cruz. You made your wife’s untimely death an inspiration to many. It seems as if she did not die at all.
And who’s not going to be thrilled about the approaching season? This is my first Christmas in the Philippines in five years. My second in seven years. My first with my lovely wife. I know that this time, Christmas will be different for me.
I missed celebrating Christmas here in our country. The festivity here is one of the best in the world. It is a family (and friends) event. I remember as I child how I go around house-to-house greeting everybody a merry Christmas.
Where I stayed for seven years, the season was just an ordinary winter season. There was no sign of an approaching Christmas day, except for a few dinner and party invitations in some houses. No flickering lights, no lanterns, no carols. Christmas was not allowed to be celebrated in the open. I attended five small Christmas parties last year, most of them held very privately in the host’s flats. Christmas day itself was usually an ordinary working day for everybody, except for some “Merry Christmas” greetings from my Christian colleagues.
I feel for those who are away from their families this Christmas season. I also feel for those who lost their loved ones this year, celebrating the season without them for the first time. I feel for those who are not usually happy during this time because of their own personal reasons.
Whether you are celebrating Christmas with somebody or alone, whether you are excited with the approaching season or not, let us remember that this is the best time to share yourself to everybody. Forget all your worries (for the meantime, at least) and give time to families and friends. One of them may not be around next Christmas for all we know (uh, morbid!). Cherish this time of joy. It’s the birthday of our Savior, Jesus Christ!!
Have a happy Christmas, everyone! Cheers! |
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