Pasalubong

Dave and I are excited. It’s his birthday on the 14th and we’re going to Singapore to celebrate it with his brother and his wife.  This would be Arvid Matthew’s first airplane ride so we’re much more excited for him!  Well, I guess this trip fulfills the first of the three destinations we hope we’d visit as a family.

We have nothing much to prepare for the trip, though, except for our little boy’s things and some “pasalubong” for Kuya Alvin and his wife.  We’ve asked them what they wanted and they said we could just bring whatever we want.  Nah, that makes “pasalubong-buying” a complicated task   .  Not knowing what they like, I opted for the usual Filipino foods most OFWs bring back to their job locations abroad.  These include salted eggs, cornick, Philippine mango, butong-pakwan and tamarind mix.

Four things you can’t recover

I believe that things don’t just happen but are designed to happen in ways that only God understands.

A month ago, one of my uncles on my mother’s side informed us that Lolo Doro, one of my grandfather’s brothers was already weakened by his illness, inability to walk (he got an amputated leg), and perhaps old age. In an instant, Mados went to visit his uncle who asked for “Tinola”, a chicken dish.

Meanwhile, knowing Lolo Doro as a cry-baby, I hesitated to come along. Instead I planned to visit at a later date so that I could introduce Arvid Matthew, his great grandson to him.  I knew Lolo would be so happy to meet my little tot as he loves and appreciates every one who drops by to see him.  In my mind, the plan included asking a few of my cousins to come with me so we could take turns visiting our grandfather. That never happened.

One night upon coming home from his wake, I received an email from Mom Sandy that talks about the four things we can’t recover. The email did come on a right time!  It was sent to me for a reason.  Be with me as I read it again.

These reminders, especially the last two came down on me like bombs, exploding slowly but with a blast, one after the other. 

The occasion, after it’s missed…Lolo lived only a few minutes from us, but I never had time to visit nor greet him on any of his birthdays.  It’s only when he died that I found out he was born on April 01.  What good did knowing his birthday do?  Nothing.

The time, after it’s gone…Lolo lived to be 87 years old, yet I couldn’t say I’ve spent a whole month of it talking to him, sharing laughter and jokes.  I did spend more than that when we lived with him when I was still studying, but not when I lived somewhere else.  Yes, he’s not my immediate grandpa, but I still felt I owed him more than just remembering him.  As it happened, he didn’t even know I have been thinking of him a lot because he, in his simple ways, had been a part of who I am now.   I could write so many good things I learned from him, but he would never read them anymore.  Truly, actions speak louder than words so we ought to SHOW our dear ones how we love them every moment we’re with them.

God knows we love our families, our parents, siblings, husbands, wives or children; but it’s not enough that we THINK of that love.  Let’s SHOW it, and what better way to start that than by TELLING them “I love you!”

If you think it’s a hard thing to do, just think how harder it would be not to be able to do it at all.

God bless us all!

Desiderata

I love poetry. It runs in my veins, beats with my heart and lives forever in and with my thoughts. It jogs, screams and rejoices with me through crowds seeking faces, observing details, re-living each person or moment’s joy, pain, defeat or success and always, almost always ending up with hope and faith that is larger than my existence.

My passion didn’t come naturally the way it did with Shakespeare, Dickinson, Hemingway or Kipling, though. Instead it was sparked by a dream of a very important person, my dad.  This realization occured just a few minutes ago after I read his latest email, which is a copy of the famous poem Desiderata, the Latin for “things to be desired”.

It’s the first time Dad sent a copy of the poem to my siblings and me, but the poem itself wasn’t new to me at all.  I remember seeing a poster of it in our old house when I was only a child.  It’s printed with  orange flowers as background, silently trying to do its job but is never appreciated.  For almost a decade it graced a part of our living room’s wall, precious yet unnoticed, may be because it has always been there and it will always be; but I was wrong.

A few storms came and our house, being the first stone house in the community became a refuge for our neighbors whose rooftops flew away with the rushing wind.  Sometime later I found “Desiderata” on a pile of soaked things.  It doesn’t grace our wall anymore.  That’s the only time I really stopped to read it.  That’s when Dad explained what a poetry is to me and showed me the remaining copy of his poems written during his student days at the then Central Luzon Polytechnic College, now Nueva Ecija University of Science and Technology. His poems were simple  but powerful, just like his influence to me as his first child.

I knew my siblings were surprised to receive a copy of the poem from our dad because they never really knew that part of him.  Nobody dared to find out, except me.  Perhaps because dad never really knew how he’d show it to my brothers and sisters, too.  I hope the sending of “Desiderata” would open the gate for each of us.

Here’s Desiderata, the poem that commands us to live our lives beautifully and cheerfully by being in good terms with all persons, speaking the truth, respecting the wisdom of the olds, being content, believing in yourself and living a life centered around someone bigger than the rest of us, God.

Thanks, Dad, for the beautiful reminder!  I love you!

Happy reading everyone!

For a printable version of the poem, please visit Desiderata.

Happy Birthday, Toats and Baby K!

One of the things that amazes me is the thought that no matter what life brings, I have brothers and sisters who spend their lives looking at things with sunny perspectives. To Arthur Michael Lawrence Aquino Munsayac, who started “fathering” at a very young age of 17, and tried hard to be good at that; and to Abigail Michelle Lory Aquino Munsayac, whose sense of humor shuts us up and makes our eyes misty, happy, happy, happy birthday!!!!

God bless you, both. Send me your celebration pictures!

Love,
Ate

Bonding time with Lola Fely

1. I wonder how I could play Basketball.
2. Oops, I didn’t do it right.
3. Let me teach you, Arvid.
4. Let’s shoot the ball now. That’s it!
5. Thanks, Lola Mados, I love you po.
6. Now I’m ready to play Basketball.

Note for parents and grandparents: Love is spelled T I M E. Spend quality time with the ones you love now and do it with style – STRETCH some muscles like Lola Fely “Mados” did!