Showing posts with label Family & Friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family & Friends. Show all posts

Saturday, February 10, 2024

I'm making the Year of the Dragon a happy year!

Xīnnián kuàilè! Kung hei fat choi! Gong xi fa cai! Happy New Year to all my Chinese readers! In the photo is me and my kids at Binondo, the oldest existing Chinatown in the world. That was yesterday, when Mommy Ginger and I and our families took the Pasig River Ferry and got off at Escolta to go exploring old Manila.


It's the Year of the Wood Dragon and I'm a Dragon! Well, I'm a Fire Dragon so it's not EXACTLY my year but I feel a lot of good energy this year anyway. I'm not Chinese and so I don't really follow the horoscope but let's humor ourselves.

The predictions say that industries with wood in them will prosper this year. So I guess it's time to publish my second book (paper)! I hope I can get your support again. I still can't thank you enough for the success of my Not Invisible book. Let me know what you want me to write about next, although I already have book plans for 10 books! Ambisyosa! But I know I can count on you so thank you!

The predictions also say, however, that it's not going to be a good year for Dragons. Oh, what irony haha The advice is to keep a low profile and don't spend money (oops, there goes my book!). Also, health won't be good. I'm already taking steps to take care of that since last year, my body was going crazy and so this year I just want to prioritize my mental and physical health.

Last year, I didn't feel too well. I was down and unhealthy and didn't feel positive about anything at all. There was this massive cloud of doubt, anxiety, and despair all over me. I promise to blog about it and I'll do so this week. I'm just glad that that's over.

This year, actually, around December last year, I felt that terrible cloud dissipating and then finally disappear. So I feel really good about 2024. I'm excited and happy again. For me, the new year actually starts on February, or whenever Chinese NewYear starts. It's true! January always feels like an extension of the previous year - I'm still paying bills for stuff I spent during the holidays, I'm still cleaning up last year's mess, and this January, I had to do something I've not done in a decade - I had to do an evaluation of my performance as an employee. So January 2024 was still all about 2023.

So today, a new year has officially begun not just for the Chinese community but for me! And despite all those negative predictions, I'll just do what I usually do. Live one day at a time! I think this year is already better because I'm not depressed anymore. I don't need to make any career changes or succeed or get rich or whatever. As long as I'm not struggling with that awful cloud anymore and my health is okay, I'll be okay.

After all, there's horoscopes and astrologers and fortunetellers. But I have God to see me through. And that's more than enough for me! It will be a good year, a happy year. And you'll be with me so it's already off to a good start!

Happy New Year, everybody! Praying for blessings of health and love and purpose for all of us!


Friday, January 12, 2024

When we were all together

Our first family photo in quarantine

As I was hanging the laundry to dry with my youngest son helping me, he said out of the blue, "Mama, I liked quarantine." 

We both agreed we didn't like the reason for it, but staying safe at home with the people we most love in the world was the best time. It was a magical time when it was just the five of us. When we were all at home. 

I'm going to just fill this blog post with photos from 2020-2022. They're not related to what I'll blog about, though. My journalism training says the photos should always support the text. But today we'll disobey. I just want to share pictures of those years when we were all together and write about the year we went off to do our separate things.

When we were all together. This will never happen again. Have you realized that, too?

My boys have all gone back to school. I've gone back to the office. This is why 2023 was so exciting and so excruciatingly heartbreaking for me. So many massive changes as we all returned to a world I wasn't quite ready to go back to. If I had my way, I want us all to stay home again. 

I could actually. I was earning well, just not regularly - when you're a freelancer, it's so hard to collect! But that was okay because homeschooling made education so affordable. It also made me realize that I am an awesome teacher. There really was no need for them to go to a brick-and-mortar school. 

But in 2023, I had to go back to work. I may want us to stay home forever, but my kids were oh so ready to get out of it. They wanted to see new places, meet new people, learn new points of view, and make friends. And they wanted this every day. They wanted to go to school. And tuition is so expensive so off I went back to earning a regular salary.

It's not so bad. It's actually a good thing! I'm very grateful, make no mistake. I love that my kids are healthy and happy. They have new friends. They're doing so well in school. I love that we can give them a good life. 

But I also loved it when it was just us. It was so simple and sweet. We were all safe and sound. I got to know my husband and sons thoroughly because that's what happens when you're together all the time. 

Now, we're all running around. Busy busy busy. We're all so tired. I feel like I'm losing them. I feel like I'm losing me. So I have to work harder to make sure we don't become strangers. And that's so exhausting, too, you know?

It's okay. It's inevitable. 

Besides, it wasn't meant to happen, those nearly 3 years indoors. But it did and we came out of it okay. I was so scared all those years because of the pandemic but I was also so happy. So very happy. I was with my most favorite people in the world. What more could a mama want?

They had to learn how to dress up again because it was finally time to go outside.

Thursday, December 28, 2023

Scenes of Christmas past

As I was very busy with my day job, all the holiday prep, and parties - these on top of all my usual chores and daily tasks, I totally forgot to put up my Christmas tree. Loyal Readers know I always have the tree up on my November birthday. This year, December 20 arrived and the house was not at all Christmasy. And my kids finally noticed.

"Mama, when are we putting up the tree?"

"Soon..."

"Mama, I took out the boxes of Christmas stuff so you can start putting up the tree."

"Thank you. Tomorrow, I'll do it."

"Mama, we need the tree for all these gifts."

"Yes, we do but I'm too tired."

And finally...

"Mama, can we do the tree today?"

"YES!"

And so they did. 

And they busied about happily, making lots of noise and mess, chatting about everything and nothing, and I glanced up from my laptop (this time, I was checking emails from their teachers), just to quickly check on how my baby boys were doing.

My eyes went to where I expected them to be - near the bottom of the tree, with chubby hands trying to grasp slippery glass balls, fascinated with glitter on tiny fingers, and their eyes alight with wonder, their toothy grins wide with excitement.

Instead, I had to look up, my old, weary eyes sliding up higher, higher to watch my boys now nearly as tall as the ridiculous pink tree my then-new husband gave me as a first-married-Christmas gift. And our boys were now surrounding it, hanging the little trinkets they made from Christmases past, no longer needing our help to lift them up so they could place a sparkling star on the very top.

They can do it on their own.

And I burst into tears. And my boys looked at me in surprise. And I blubbered out some silly melancholy sentimental nostalgia and they looked at each other awkwardly like teens and tweens do. And I cried harder and they started chuckling and they patted me on the shoulder. 

There, there. It's okay, Mama.

Does the heart ever recover from this dizzying mix of joy and sadness, pride and longing? No? Never. And this will be my Christmases forever.    








Oh, my heart!

Merry Christmas, mamas. 


Sunday, June 25, 2023

Life is so full, I can barely breathe

Photo dump! Today's blog post will be a catch-up because my last time here was April 30. That was almost 2 months ago. This has got to be the longest I've been away from you all. I missed you! 

The last 2 months were packed to the brim - no, it was overflowing! - with sooo many things happening, I could barely breathe. Here are a few:

Mother's Day!
Iñigo's birthday! More pics in another post soon.
Vito's spiritual retreat was his first ever time spent away from us. I had dreadful separation anxiety. But I'm so glad he had a good time and he was a lovely boy, being all appreciative of his family.
Vito's graduation!
He won 2 awards, too!
I'm so thrilled!
With my two big boys
And here's my husband with our littlest boy.

Lots of stuff I haven't been sharing! Here are more photos from the past year!

At the sea wall. The kids haven't seen the sea in forever so I found it amusing how amazed they were.
Piero joined a chess club.
The kids also visited the dentist and all's good!
Dessert date with the boys!
Vince had a book signing at the Philippine Book Festival and his book was sold out!


Oh, I have soooo many more photos and stories but work - my day job + my real job as writer and editor - has been a LOT so I haven't been able to update you. Really just wanted to drop by and tell you life's been overwhelming. I'm overwhelmed, to be honest. Like I said, sometimes I feel I can't breathe. Sunod-sunod kasi talaga!  

But I'm not complaining. I pray to God, "Lord, give me strength, give me more years. Everything is tiring me out but I want the whole human experience. I don't want to miss out because I only have this one chance to live the abundant life You promised." 

Abundance! Claiming it every day. Thanks for still being here, dear Loyal Reader. May God grant you endless blessings and favor!


“I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” John 10:10

Sunday, April 30, 2023

I like to imagine

Over the last few years, some dear Loyal Readers dropped messages in my inbox asking if I was ever going to talk about Papa because I said I would. I promised it in "When peace is a complicated thing," and maybe you should read that first because it will help you understand this post. 

Papa died in April 2019, and while I had peppered my blog with stories of how Papa and I had drifted apart in the last two decades of his life, I still thought I would feel his loss. People told me that I would regret our distance. That I would regret not trying harder. 

But I'd already tried. Talked, gave (how much I gave!), forgave, tried again. I was always trying because I felt that I owed that to him because he was my father, and that I owed it to Mama, who also always tried till the day she died. I found out later from my aunt that Mama regretted trying to make it work all the damn time. So that informed my decision to walk away later on when the straw finally broke the camel's back. 

That was the day when I visited him yet again with my little baby boys, and he just kept watching TV. Nakwento ko na ba ito? Anyway, there was a basketball game. He loved basketball. But I was there, and with his grandsons, too! Surely he loved us more? So I said, "Papa, look at your apos. Play with them. Or play the guitar. They love music! Get to know them. We're only here once a month, and they grow so fast." And Papa, without looking away from the TV, said, "I don't have to. I know all I need to know from your Facebook posts." 

I was shocked, but not surprised. I guess the shock was him saying that in front of my kids. I tried again. "But you know Facebook is just the highlight reel. Don't you want to know how we really are?"

And still not taking his eyes off his stupid basketball game, he said, "I'm okay with Facebook."

So I let him be okay with Facebook. He shared my sons' photos with gushing updates and his 5,000+ friends liked and commented, "You're such a great lolo! So blessed!" They never knew he never asked to see my sons, never even asked about them. Kahit text man lang na "Kumusta na ang mga bata?" wala. He went out of his way to see friends and relatives na mas malayo pa sa bahay ko, but my sons? No. Ni ha, ni ho, wala.

I can forgive anything done to me. But it's a different story when it comes to my kids. If you're not making an effort to get to know my kids, then they don't need to know you. It took me a long time to learn that I shouldn't force myself on friends, guys, jobs, situations. Kung ayaw, eh di huwag, diba? 

Why then should I force my children on people who don't care about them? My sons don't deserve that indignity. I say this with no anger at all. I'm over it frankly. Papa and I had forgiven each other before he died. Tapos na yun. But people ask what happened and here is the story. Now you know. It's sad. Some people say, "Para yun lang." It's not "yun lang" for me. Reject my kids, I reject you. Any good parent will do the same to protect their children. Even then, believe it or not, I have no anger or hate at all. Not even disappointment. I expected it after all.  

People still ask sometimes, "Do you miss him? Do you regret not having a relationship with your Papa?" And I know they want me to say I do. And you know what? I also wish I could say I do. 

Listen to this song. Remove the romance aspect of the lyrics and that's how I feel about Papa. 


I want it to hurt. I want to hurt so badly because that would mean I lost something so vital, it hurts to breathe. 

When Mama died, it truly felt like someone punched a hole through my chest. Until now, I whisper sometimes into the void, "I wish you could see me now, Mama. You'd be so proud of me." And I'd tell her about Vince, our perfect boys, my imperfect ways of mothering. I'd ask her did she feel as lost or as amazing as I do. I'd tell her my heart breaks when I realize she didn't have money many times, and I only understand the despair and fear now as a mother, too. And I come from a place of having enough when she raised us with barely enough to get by. I still talk to her, and for 15 years she hasn't talked back. I think I'll do this until we finally catch up in heaven.

But with Papa... I remember only one time when I cried. I was in a taxi. This was a few months after Papa died, still before the pandemic, and I was stuck in traffic. I saw another taxi idling by the curb on the other side of the street, the driver helping an old man load suitcases into the trunk. A young woman hurried to him with another bag. They both hugged like they'd never see each other again, and I knew she was flying off to work in another country. The taxi drove off (it wasn't traffic on that side of the road) and the old man stared after it for a long time. And that sad, longing, proud-parent smile broke me.

I never had that with Papa. When I left home, when I got married, when Mama died, when he left to live in Leyte, when my kids were born. Nothing. He was like, "Hey, this is it. So good luck." No joke, guys. Talagang wala lang talaga. I got more emotion and support for my life events from you, my blog readers, than from my own father. 

I don't hate him. I'm not even angry at him. After our talk at the hospital as he hovered near death, I realized he didn't know what to do with me or act around me. He felt inadequate as a man, a husband, and as a father. He was ashamed. And he was afraid. That's why he never even tried. I came away from our talk reeling because Papa was one of the funniest, smartest, incredibly charming, and unbelievably talented men that walked this earth. And he had a beautiful wife! And beautiful, talented children and grandchildren! How could he not possess the confidence and grace of one so gifted? 

I still feel this immense sadness for him, for Mama, and for my siblings. All the pain we went through! Sana nagalit na lang ako kasi I know how to deal with my anger. Kahit na ano pang laki ng liyab ng galit, nauubos din ito. But sadness is like the sea. And my sadness for this poor old man who lived his life in fear of disappointing everyone and so ended up disappointing everyone, who was so afraid to give so he took and took... My God, how my heart aches with sorrow for Papa! 

But does my heart ache for him? 

You know, I wish I missed him. I do. He doesn't occupy my thoughts unless people ask, and that so rarely. I miss the idea of a father. I see Vince being so involved in our sons' lives. I see Vince's dad swooping in when we need help. I see my friends doting on their daddies and their daddies still doting on them - note that my friends are middle-aged women like me! I read about God's provision, protection, and care for His children. And I miss that kind of fathering. And yet how can you miss something you never really had? 

So sometimes - not all the time, and only when I stare long enough at fathers being daddies - I like to imagine that things were different. 

I like to imagine that Papa cried at my wedding and gave an embarrassing speech that made everyone laugh and cry. I like to imagine he was there all the times I was pregnant, getting emotional that his daughter was now a mommy. I like to imagine loud Sunday lunches and my boys around their Lolo and his guitar on his knee and him singing to them in his wonderful voice. I like to imagine him giving me advice when I found marriage, motherhood, and life overwhelming and he'd say stuff like, "I wish your Mama could see you now. She'd be so proud of you."

I like to imagine he was proud of me.

The mind is a malleable thing and maybe my imaginings will turn into memories, which, though false, will be something I can hold on to. And maybe then I can finally grieve.


"I still love the people I've loved, even if I cross the street to avoid them." 
Uma Thurman

Friday, September 09, 2022

Gold digger

I have a little story I've been meaning to tell for years and years now. But I could never bring myself to share it because whenever I tried before, it left a bad taste in my mouth. But I guess enough time has passed that this time, I have the humor and grace to tell you all about it.

But first, two things: 

(1) People get surprised when I say I studied in public schools. They always assumed I grew up rich. I'm pretty sure it's not my face or my clothes that make me look wealthy. Maybe it's my vocabulary. Read enough and you get smart enough to make people believe you could afford the best education, I guess. 

(2) I've never said or pretended I was rich. In fact, I tell people all the time I was poor, so much so that my husband reminds me now and then not to romanticize it. So I'll keep that in mind while I write this blog post.




So now for my story. Or stories. I have four.

#1

When Vince and I started dating, almost everyone in his world welcomed me. I was so relieved because he was, well, he doesn't like the word "rich" and prefers the term "comfortable." So let's just say Vince was very comfortable. He went to private schools, lived in a gated community of mansions, drove his own car, and flew off to destinations to ski and dive and shop and whatever it is comfortable people do. 

I was nervous to meet his family because I didn't think I was good enough for him, but on our first date, Vince brought me to his house to meet his parents. His family treated me well from the very start. At that time, I thought it was evidence of their kindness. But looking back, I also think it was because Vince made it crystal clear that he was besotted with me. 

As for his friends... Well, they were lovely, too, until this one time when they were drinking. Vince had excused himself to go to the loo and one of them told me, "Hey, Vince always pays for your dates, which is strange because aren't you a feminist?" Before I could explain that I have no money for Vince's expensive taste in everything so we agreed he pays if he insists on chi-chi restaurants over Jollibee, his other friend laughed, "She's not a feminist, she's a gold digger." 

I usually have a comeback for everything but at that moment, I was so surprised that I couldn't think. And then Vince came back and everyone literally pretended nothing happened. I never mentioned it again but it was a little worm that fucked me up.

#2

Sometime later, a colleague who went to college with Vince stopped me in the corridor of our office. She said, "You know, I've always wondered: What do you and Vince talk about?" 

"What do you mean?" 

She tilted her head to one side and looked at my second-hand clothes I bought from eBay, "Well, you're obviously not part of our crowd."

A few months later, I accompanied my friend, Che, to a bridal fair at Shangri-la Hotel. While Che was chatting with suppliers, I wandered off to another booth where I bumped into my colleague. She looked at me, amused. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm with my friend. She's getting married."

"Oh! I thought you were thinking of getting married," she laughed.

I didn't like her laugh so I said, "Well, Vince and I have been together for a few years so I might as well look around."

And she smiled at me indulgently and sighed. "Oh, dear, do his parents know? I don't think they'll like...  Do you really think Vince will marry...?" and then she looked at me from head to toe with her infuriating gentle smile. And I knew her unspoken words were ...someone like you?

"Is she bothering you?" Che spat out.

"No, I was just chatting with Frances. Bye!" And colleague left.

Che looked at me in disgust. "How could you allow her to talk to you like that?"

I allowed it because I believed it. Why indeed would he be with someone like me?

Spoiler alert: He married me anyway!

#3 

Many years later, I was definitely in a much better place. I was successful in my career, I was somebody now, and best of all, I knew Vince loved me. 

But after our gorgeous wedding was splashed in the society pages of Inquirer and Wedding Essentials magazine, one of my father's friends said I did very well for myself. And then she got mad at Papa because she wasn't invited to my wedding and she told him, "Your daughter marries up and she's suddenly a snob." I wasn't a snob actually. I asked my parents for their guest list and she wasn't included in their list so it wasn't my fault.  

But while I wasn't insecure about this shit anymore, a deep resentment surfaced. I did not marry up. I did not do well for myself by landing a comfortable man. We married as equals and I resented that people will never see me as his equal.  

#4

I dragged Vince to the Esquire Ball as my date. At that time, Vince had been unemployed for a couple of years. I was making a lot of money so we decided that he can be the stay-at-home parent to our baby boys. At the party, he caught up with a few people. One of them asked, "So what are you doing now?"

Vince replied with no shame, just nonchalant confidence, "I'm a stay-at-home dad. I married a rich woman."

And all the guys at the table gaped at him in awe. 

I will confess: his masculinity not being threatened at all and him just owning being a kept man like a boss made me drool. 

What a man! 

Blurry photos from the Esquire Ball with editor-in-chief Erwin Romulo

I guess I wanted to tell these stories because I realize that some people will always think I'm a gold digger (to their credit and mine, his friends changed their minds about me). And maybe some people even admire me because I caught a catch.

Pfft. It should surprise them no end that in this marriage, it's my husband who thinks he's punching above his weight. He's always said he's the one who got lucky and that he's the one who married up. 

Thanks, babe.

What people refuse to see is it's possible that someone like me who's lived with so little for so long has learned to do without the trappings of life and actually enjoy it. I don't like poverty, okay, but I love the simple life. It doesn't take much to make me happy, and that is what people don't understand. No one will ever have enough to offer someone who doesn't need material possessions.

Am I defensive? No. I'm just happy. Okay, maybe I'm defending my happiness? Maybe. I'm so happy. I literally have Php 7000 in my personal bank account and I'm happy. I'll tell you why and I will concede that Vince gave me this. 

While Vince lived a much more comfortable life, it wasn't material wealth that made him so irresistible to me. I loved how intelligent he was and how he respected my brain. I loved how he was crazy about me because that is honestly such a huge confidence booster. I loved how he admired my sass but was quick to call out my bullshit. I loved how he urged me to have dreams and to go after them, pushing me all the time to dream bigger and do better. I loved how he made me believe I was worthy of all the world had to offer, and that he was not going to give them to me like some dashing prince rescuing the scullery maid. 

And this no one ever really understands because it's not the stuff of fairy tales: Vince never offered me the moon and the stars because he believed in me enough to know I could get them all on my own. And his vision for me and my future was so bright, it dazzled even me. 

Money is earned, money runs out, money can be stolen, but what I got from this relationship I will never lose. Vince may not have promised me material wealth, but he gave me something more precious: He gave me belief in myself. 

So let's go back to that term. It amuses me now because this is corny but true: All the gold was inside me and Vince just helped me dig it out of me so I can be the shining star I am now. 

Gold digger. Yeah. I'm redefining it and owning it. 

Friday, May 06, 2022

Vito's 11th birthday

My blog post last Monday reminded my Loyal Readers that my kids aren't toddlers anymore. "Vito is turning 12?" Yes! "Where did the time go?" I don't know. I still stare at them and wonder the same thing. 

I haven't been sharing the boys' birthdays anymore but let me quickly share Vito's 11th birthday party last year. I want to give you - those who still call him Jelly Bean - a peek at my not-so-little boy's happiness.


So this was in August and we were all stuck at home, but that didn't prevent us from having a great day! We had guests anyway - a retinue of penguins, foxes, and wolves to help celebrate the big day!


Look at how happy my boys are. They've been so good throughout the pandemic. I think they loved being cooped up inside, even if it dragged on for 2 years (and counting!). I could never ask for better boys. And it all started with the eldest one, my Vito.


Vito has always been easy. Easy pregnancy, easy childbirth, easy recovery, easy infancy, easy toddlerhood, easy everything! He's a happy, healthy, smart, and such a good boy. It's so easy to make him laugh. And he asks so little from us. Just video games and lots of food to munch on. That's it. He's happy.


His Papa once said, "I hope he never changes." And with Vito on the cusp of big change coming - adolescence! teenagehood! middle school! - I agree with his Papa. May this wonderful little boy never ever change. May he always be healthy. May he always be happy. May he always have love and support. That's all I ever want for him, the boy who changed my life.