A tragic father’s day story in the newspapers caught my attention last Monday, a day after father’s day.
The story is about a soldier-father who timed his R&R to be home on Father’s Day after spending months in Mindanao. He arrived home Saturday. Early Sunday morning of Father’s day, he decided to clean his service firearm and asked his 5-year-old son to get it for him. The obedient boy who adored his father did and even removed the magazine as taught by his father. But the boy did something more that his father did not teach him, he aimed the gun at his father and fired. The father fell from a fatal gunshot wound in the abdomen.
Apparently, the father had trained his son to handle a gun even at an early age to prepare him for life. Unfortunately, the preparation for life ended in death.
After reading the story, it did not take long for me to look back and recall what my own father has taught me to prepare me for life.
Honesty. If there was anything that stood out from what people had said of my father after his death, it was his honesty. My father was a simple government employee. He started as a lowly “escribiente” (Spanish for clerk) at the “municipio” after the World War II. He then took the civil service exams and transferred to the old Bureau of Public Works (Talavera River Irrigation System) in our town and worked his way to become the Property Custodian in the same office until his death in 1969.
Simplicity. Born poor, he lived simply without the frills. He never smoked or drinked and lived a sedentary life. From the office he would go home directly and engaged in his favorite reading fare while waiting for his children to come home. On weekends he allowed himself the simple joy of watching a movie.
Love for family. My father was orphaned early and grew up in the care of non-relatives under abject circumstances. This is probably the reason why he cared for his family so much and did his best to give his children the best in life that he could afford. He must have missed growing up surrounded by siblings (he was an only child although he had a step-brother and step-sister), he produced and raised 7 children!
Hard work. There is no doubt my father worked hard. With a meager salary from the government and with 7 children to support, he put in extra hours to augment the family income. He worked as bookkeeper for his Chinese friends and played in a band as a trombone player whenever he was called during funerals, parades and other occasions in town.
Reading. How my father loves to read! Books must have been expensive then so he went to the next best thing – newspapers and magazines. So we grew up with a daily newspaper at home, the weekly Philippines Free Press, and the monthly Reader’s Digest.
This Monday, June 29, my family is remembering my father’s 40th death anniversary. I will surely not forget to thank him for the lessons in life that he taught me.
No, he did not give me lectures on how to live life; he just lived his life the way he knew it.
And then he let me watch him how he did it.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
My journey through the first half of life
Last Sunday’s fathers’ day celebration led me to thinking once more about my own journey through the second half of life. What is the second half of life and how is it a journey?
I first learned about the concept of the second half of life from OMI spiritual writer Fr. Ronald Rolheiser. He discusses it extensively in a video that he produced for discussion groups, “Spirituality for the two halves of life” (Available at www.amazon.com). I shall refer, however, from a 2003 article in his website www.ronrolheiser.com.
Rolheiser speaks of our lives as having two halves. According to him the second half of life, just like the first, is a journey. But unlike the first where the journey was outward towards a search for identity, the acquisition of material wealth, a definition of one’s role in life, and raising a family; the second half is more of a journey inward. It is a journey to wholeness, a deeper engagement with those aspects of life that we have tended to neglect in our earlier years. It is about completing unfinished business and preparing to bring our earthly existence to fruition. It is essentially the journey home towards the Father.
In order to do this journey home, however, Rolheiser says that “we have first to shed many of the things that we legitimately acquired and attached ourselves to during the first-half of life”. The act he speaks of is one of relinquishment, of detachment, of letting go.
And the first one, he says, is letting go of and detaching ourselves from our wounds and anger. We all get wounded in the first half of life and consciously or unconsciously, harbor a lot of ill feelings and anger deep within our souls. “The foremost spiritual task of the second half of life is to forgive - others, ourselves, life, God. We all arrive at mid-life wounded and not having had exactly the life of which we dreamed. There's a disappointment and anger inside everyone of us and unless we find it in ourselves to forgive, we will die bitter, unready for the heavenly banquet.”
I have had my fair share of wounds that have cut deeply into my psyche and have rendered me broken to the point of being immobile, unable to be my own self for many years. But thanks to God’s grace, I found it in my self to forgive. Now I am whole once more. And like the Bread that was broken, I have given myself to many who I hope have found their life’s meaning in my giving.
“Second, we need to detach ourselves from the need to possess, to achieve, and to be the centre of attention. The task of the second-half of life is to become the quiet, blessing grandparent who no longer needs to be the centre of attention but is happy simply watching the young grow and enjoy themselves.”
I can relate to this a lot. Lately I noticed that I have learned to reduce my wants and to distinguish them from my needs. Ah, yes, I have truly “become the quiet, blessing grandparent” to Nicole as I watched her development even from afar, enjoying her every move as she dances to her heart’s content or shows her newly found skills.
“Third, we need to learn how to say good-bye to the earth and our loved ones so that, just as in the strength of our youth we once gave our lives for those we love, we can now give our deaths to them too, as a final gift.”
I have long been resigned to my death. I have survived what could have been a massive heart attack in 2007. I have always said that at 67 I have outlived my father and father-in-law who had both died at the early age of 61. And yes, I have made a “living will” instructing my immediate family not to do anything “extra-ordinary” in case I fall into an irreversible coma.
“Fourth, we need to let go of sophistication so as to become simple ‘holy old fools’ whose only message is that God loves us.”
I say “Amen” to that.
“Finally, we need, more and more, to immerse ourselves in the language of silence, the language of heaven. Meister Eckhard once said: "Nothing so much resembles God as silence." The task of mid-life is to begin to understand that and enter into that language.”
Everyone who knows me will attest to the fact that I have long taken to silence. My predisposition to silence must have taken root while I was in the seminary years ago. I have long learned that you can find God and He can speak to you only in silence.
Father Rolheiser concludes that this journey can be a painful one such that he likens it to the catholic doctrine of purgatory which “tells us that God's eternal embrace can only become fully ecstatic once we've learned to let go”. Cito Beltran in his Philippine Star (June 14, 2009 issue) column recently also said the same thing about what his father-in-law is experiencing at present. But he called it “some kind of purgatory” only because his father-in-law is in an institution for old people.
I will not call mine a “purgatory”, however. It is more of a pleasant journey around my loved ones into the unknown yet certain place because it is a coming home to the embrace of our only true and loving Father.
I first learned about the concept of the second half of life from OMI spiritual writer Fr. Ronald Rolheiser. He discusses it extensively in a video that he produced for discussion groups, “Spirituality for the two halves of life” (Available at www.amazon.com). I shall refer, however, from a 2003 article in his website www.ronrolheiser.com.
Rolheiser speaks of our lives as having two halves. According to him the second half of life, just like the first, is a journey. But unlike the first where the journey was outward towards a search for identity, the acquisition of material wealth, a definition of one’s role in life, and raising a family; the second half is more of a journey inward. It is a journey to wholeness, a deeper engagement with those aspects of life that we have tended to neglect in our earlier years. It is about completing unfinished business and preparing to bring our earthly existence to fruition. It is essentially the journey home towards the Father.
In order to do this journey home, however, Rolheiser says that “we have first to shed many of the things that we legitimately acquired and attached ourselves to during the first-half of life”. The act he speaks of is one of relinquishment, of detachment, of letting go.
And the first one, he says, is letting go of and detaching ourselves from our wounds and anger. We all get wounded in the first half of life and consciously or unconsciously, harbor a lot of ill feelings and anger deep within our souls. “The foremost spiritual task of the second half of life is to forgive - others, ourselves, life, God. We all arrive at mid-life wounded and not having had exactly the life of which we dreamed. There's a disappointment and anger inside everyone of us and unless we find it in ourselves to forgive, we will die bitter, unready for the heavenly banquet.”
I have had my fair share of wounds that have cut deeply into my psyche and have rendered me broken to the point of being immobile, unable to be my own self for many years. But thanks to God’s grace, I found it in my self to forgive. Now I am whole once more. And like the Bread that was broken, I have given myself to many who I hope have found their life’s meaning in my giving.
“Second, we need to detach ourselves from the need to possess, to achieve, and to be the centre of attention. The task of the second-half of life is to become the quiet, blessing grandparent who no longer needs to be the centre of attention but is happy simply watching the young grow and enjoy themselves.”
I can relate to this a lot. Lately I noticed that I have learned to reduce my wants and to distinguish them from my needs. Ah, yes, I have truly “become the quiet, blessing grandparent” to Nicole as I watched her development even from afar, enjoying her every move as she dances to her heart’s content or shows her newly found skills.
“Third, we need to learn how to say good-bye to the earth and our loved ones so that, just as in the strength of our youth we once gave our lives for those we love, we can now give our deaths to them too, as a final gift.”
I have long been resigned to my death. I have survived what could have been a massive heart attack in 2007. I have always said that at 67 I have outlived my father and father-in-law who had both died at the early age of 61. And yes, I have made a “living will” instructing my immediate family not to do anything “extra-ordinary” in case I fall into an irreversible coma.
“Fourth, we need to let go of sophistication so as to become simple ‘holy old fools’ whose only message is that God loves us.”
I say “Amen” to that.
“Finally, we need, more and more, to immerse ourselves in the language of silence, the language of heaven. Meister Eckhard once said: "Nothing so much resembles God as silence." The task of mid-life is to begin to understand that and enter into that language.”
Everyone who knows me will attest to the fact that I have long taken to silence. My predisposition to silence must have taken root while I was in the seminary years ago. I have long learned that you can find God and He can speak to you only in silence.
Father Rolheiser concludes that this journey can be a painful one such that he likens it to the catholic doctrine of purgatory which “tells us that God's eternal embrace can only become fully ecstatic once we've learned to let go”. Cito Beltran in his Philippine Star (June 14, 2009 issue) column recently also said the same thing about what his father-in-law is experiencing at present. But he called it “some kind of purgatory” only because his father-in-law is in an institution for old people.
I will not call mine a “purgatory”, however. It is more of a pleasant journey around my loved ones into the unknown yet certain place because it is a coming home to the embrace of our only true and loving Father.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Remembering Inang on Mother's Day
There are many ways to address a mother depending on one’s culture, language, race, and so forth. And so a mother can be called “Mommy”, “Mom”, “Mama” (accent either on the first or second syllable), “Nanay”, “Inay”, “Inang”, “Ima” or whatever. But no matter how she is called, every mother is unique to every son or daughter and she leaves her own mark in a son or daughter that will remain there forever no matter what.
I call mine "Inang". And remembering Inang on Mother’s Day, is to remember who she was for me, which not only made her uniquely as my mother but also made me who I am today.
Not so long ago in the past, family roles between fathers and mothers were still pretty much clearly delineated – fathers took care of earning a living for the family and mothers took care of the home and the children. In a way, one can say fathers took care of the body while mothers took care of the soul.
It was so in our household years ago when we were growing up. Tatang took care of making money; while Inang took care of the household cleaning, cooking, washing and taking care of us children, and looking after our early formation including our spiritual formation.
Inang taught me my earliest notions of God, the saints, about prayers, heaven, and hell. I remember too that as a daily family ritual she would gather all of us regularly at 6pm as the time for the “oracion” comes. She would then lead us through the “Angelus” in a mixture of Tagalog and Spanish after which all of us children would line up to kiss the hands (“mano”) of our parents and all other elderly persons who happened to be with us then. It was Inang too who would gather all of us on Sunday and then herd us to church for mass. At the church entrance she would first dip her hands into the holy water basin and then seek every one of us children to bless us with her holy water-moistened hands.
I also learned as I grew up that her spirituality extended not only to external religiosity such as prayers but also to her personal values such as her deep caring for others especially those in need. We did not have much in terms of material possessions, but it was she who had taught me and my siblings not to turn away a beggar who would come knocking at our door without offering food or even a handful of rice or a few centavos to tide him over. She also never turned down a neighbor in need, whether it was for money or food, as long as she could afford it.
Inang and me
Fathers, they say, mold a son’s character through discipline and raise him to achieve his full potential until he is ready to raise his own family. Mothers, however, imprint themselves on a son in a way only a mother can and in the process cling to his soul.
As I grew up in Inang's loving motherly care, her simple faith and deep religiosity gave me courage to ask to be allowed to go the seminary after I had finished high school. I knew then that it was a most difficult decision for her to let me go because I was young and inexperienced to be separated so soon. But this was a call from God. In the end, I was sure it must have been her faith in God and divine providence that clinched it for me. With a heavy heart, she gave me her permission and even accompanied me all the way to the seminary gates for a tearful good-bye scene on the day I entered to start my seminary studies.
Some twenty years later, her faith would be tested once again when I decided to leave the ministry after an agonizing period of discernment to seek God’s will. I knew my decision to leave would hurt her. How could it not? Thus, I was already imagining all kinds of things she would say. That she could not understand my reasons for leaving and would not let me leave. That I would only cause an embarrassment to the family, that I should go back and think things once more, that I should go and confess my sins instead (as holier-than-thou others have suggested), that it is a great sin turning away from God (as if leaving the ministry was to turn against God), and so forth.
One day, after a retreat I finally found the courage and strength to tell her the truth that I had left and already requested Papal dispensation from Church authorities. What followed next was a scene I will never forget. She took my hands and said with her eyes almost in tears: “I have been waiting for you… I already know, but what can I do? I just prayed to God to take care of you if this is His will for you… If you are happy with your decision, then I also am happy.” We then embraced each other.
Prior to this talk with Inang, my life was unstable and aimless, my tomorrows were dark and unchartered specially after my decision was met with hurtful coldness and biting indifference by some friends colleagues, and even prospective employers. In contrast, Inang’s words were like soothing balm to my wounded spirit; assurance enough for me to start living once more from then on and to set out building my new life as a layman. After obtaining my Papal dispensation from my priestly and religious vows and with Inang’s blessings, I got married that same year and started a family.
Inang’s prayer
Inang also had such an unshakeable faith in prayer. She would always say that God has always heard her prayers. And one of her most ardent prayer, according to her, is for God not to let her see anyone of her children die before she does. She said she would rather die first because she could not bear to bury anyone of us.
God answered Inang’s wish. She died peacefully and joined her creator at the age of 92 in November of 1999. Although none of us her seven children were around when she breathed her last, all seven of us were around when she was buried beside Tatang, her beloved husband.
That is “Inang”, my mother!
I call mine "Inang". And remembering Inang on Mother’s Day, is to remember who she was for me, which not only made her uniquely as my mother but also made me who I am today.
Not so long ago in the past, family roles between fathers and mothers were still pretty much clearly delineated – fathers took care of earning a living for the family and mothers took care of the home and the children. In a way, one can say fathers took care of the body while mothers took care of the soul.
It was so in our household years ago when we were growing up. Tatang took care of making money; while Inang took care of the household cleaning, cooking, washing and taking care of us children, and looking after our early formation including our spiritual formation.
Inang taught me my earliest notions of God, the saints, about prayers, heaven, and hell. I remember too that as a daily family ritual she would gather all of us regularly at 6pm as the time for the “oracion” comes. She would then lead us through the “Angelus” in a mixture of Tagalog and Spanish after which all of us children would line up to kiss the hands (“mano”) of our parents and all other elderly persons who happened to be with us then. It was Inang too who would gather all of us on Sunday and then herd us to church for mass. At the church entrance she would first dip her hands into the holy water basin and then seek every one of us children to bless us with her holy water-moistened hands.
I also learned as I grew up that her spirituality extended not only to external religiosity such as prayers but also to her personal values such as her deep caring for others especially those in need. We did not have much in terms of material possessions, but it was she who had taught me and my siblings not to turn away a beggar who would come knocking at our door without offering food or even a handful of rice or a few centavos to tide him over. She also never turned down a neighbor in need, whether it was for money or food, as long as she could afford it.
Inang and me
Fathers, they say, mold a son’s character through discipline and raise him to achieve his full potential until he is ready to raise his own family. Mothers, however, imprint themselves on a son in a way only a mother can and in the process cling to his soul.
As I grew up in Inang's loving motherly care, her simple faith and deep religiosity gave me courage to ask to be allowed to go the seminary after I had finished high school. I knew then that it was a most difficult decision for her to let me go because I was young and inexperienced to be separated so soon. But this was a call from God. In the end, I was sure it must have been her faith in God and divine providence that clinched it for me. With a heavy heart, she gave me her permission and even accompanied me all the way to the seminary gates for a tearful good-bye scene on the day I entered to start my seminary studies.
Some twenty years later, her faith would be tested once again when I decided to leave the ministry after an agonizing period of discernment to seek God’s will. I knew my decision to leave would hurt her. How could it not? Thus, I was already imagining all kinds of things she would say. That she could not understand my reasons for leaving and would not let me leave. That I would only cause an embarrassment to the family, that I should go back and think things once more, that I should go and confess my sins instead (as holier-than-thou others have suggested), that it is a great sin turning away from God (as if leaving the ministry was to turn against God), and so forth.
One day, after a retreat I finally found the courage and strength to tell her the truth that I had left and already requested Papal dispensation from Church authorities. What followed next was a scene I will never forget. She took my hands and said with her eyes almost in tears: “I have been waiting for you… I already know, but what can I do? I just prayed to God to take care of you if this is His will for you… If you are happy with your decision, then I also am happy.” We then embraced each other.
Prior to this talk with Inang, my life was unstable and aimless, my tomorrows were dark and unchartered specially after my decision was met with hurtful coldness and biting indifference by some friends colleagues, and even prospective employers. In contrast, Inang’s words were like soothing balm to my wounded spirit; assurance enough for me to start living once more from then on and to set out building my new life as a layman. After obtaining my Papal dispensation from my priestly and religious vows and with Inang’s blessings, I got married that same year and started a family.
Inang’s prayer
Inang also had such an unshakeable faith in prayer. She would always say that God has always heard her prayers. And one of her most ardent prayer, according to her, is for God not to let her see anyone of her children die before she does. She said she would rather die first because she could not bear to bury anyone of us.
God answered Inang’s wish. She died peacefully and joined her creator at the age of 92 in November of 1999. Although none of us her seven children were around when she breathed her last, all seven of us were around when she was buried beside Tatang, her beloved husband.
That is “Inang”, my mother!
Sunday, May 3, 2009
On aging gracefully: "Ateng" turns 70
If there is anyone who is truly embracing her aging gracefully, I can think of my only sister Elena who is turning 70 today.
My younger brothers and I call her “Ateng” which is a term of endearment and respect for the oldest sister in the family. But all her nephews and nieces, her grandnephews and grandnieces also call her “Ateng”. Many others, relatives outside our immediate family and even non-relatives, also call her “Ateng” prompting others to call her “Ateng ng bayan” (everybody’s Ateng).
One thing that immediately stands out about Ateng is that she has remained single to this day. Far from being an ugly duckling, dull or uninteresting, Ateng is quite pretty and smart that she was never lacking in suitors in her younger days.
She says she never got married because of our dear Inang (my mother, bless her soul!). By this, she probably meant she foresaw her role of being Inang’s caretaker in her old age (which she did until Inang’s death at age 92). And taking care of Inang while having a family of her own would certainly have been a complete disaster!
But there is another reason for Ateng to say Inang was the reason for her staying single. For Inang, no man was apparently good enough for her daughter! You see, whenever any guy would come to the house to court Ateng, and as soon as the guy had left the house, Inang would readily start her litany of imaginable reasons why the guy is not good enough for Ateng! Inang never hid her dislike for any guy who comes to court Ateng so that soon any prospect of a future love life for her was abbreviated when boys stopped coming to the house even just to befriend her.
I can imagine how Ateng must have suffered in her heart through all these, since she did like in particular one or two of the guys. In any case, she would only say later that if those guys were not brave enough to face her mother, then they also were not worth her time!
The irony of it all is that shortly before Inang died and when Ateng was already well past her marrying age, she kept urging Ateng to get married so she would have somebody to take care of her in her (Ateng’s) old age!
For me, I think Ateng never got married because she never found anyone who could come up to the high standards set by our beloved Tatang, the ideal husband and father and the man who was Ateng’s first love of her life (I am implying here that there is a second!). Also, being the only girl in a family with six other boys, she was Tatang’s little girl from the start. It is an open secret that unlike us boys, she never got to experience Tatang’s famous temper. Ateng’s lips are sealed when it comes to the extras that she got from being an only daughter of Tatang. We just know that the two of them must have had a deeper and unique relationship that none of us six boys ever had with Tatang… and that is why Tatang’s early death must have been most painful for her especially since she was not around to be with him when Tatang breathed his last.
Some years back when she had saved enough money and an opportunity presented itself, Ateng fulfilled her life’s dream for her Tatang. She invested in a memorial park lot in San Jose and there built a beautiful family mausoleum where Tatang’s remains were transferred. She said the mausoleum was primarily for Tatang who never owned a lot much less a decent home when he was still alive. Ateng would always say how she wish Tatang were still with her today to enjoy the many things he used to love like Chinese food, good coffee, classical music, movies, and little children (so like many of us Mendiola men, come to think of it!).
If you ask her, however, Ateng says, in jest of course, that she never got married because her husband would not have survived having six brothers-in-law who are her most vocal critics next to Inang when it comes to her suitors.
Seriously though, having never gotten married must have been in God’s plan for Ateng considering how she has touched her brothers’ lives all these years. From Kuyang our oldest down to Jessie our youngest, Ateng has always been around to support us either individually or as family men whatever our needs are and whatsoever it takes for her to help us. Her whole life has been one long story of selfless dedication and loving concern for us her six brothers and our families.
All these years, Ateng has been aging gracefully and embracing her God-given vocation as single woman faithfully.
Today, the 3rd of May 2009, our dear Ateng turns 70. As a tribute to her and to thank her for everything that she has done for us and for everything that she means to us, we (the whole clan) are surprising her with a party she never would forget.
Today, we want to make her feel that all her sacrifices for us have not been in vain, that like Martha in the bible, she truly is one sister who has lived up to her vocation of dedicated service and unselfish love for family!
It is also Good Shepherd Sunday today on her birthday. Come to think of it, we all have felt God's love all these years because Ateng has done such a good job shepherding us all!
My younger brothers and I call her “Ateng” which is a term of endearment and respect for the oldest sister in the family. But all her nephews and nieces, her grandnephews and grandnieces also call her “Ateng”. Many others, relatives outside our immediate family and even non-relatives, also call her “Ateng” prompting others to call her “Ateng ng bayan” (everybody’s Ateng).
One thing that immediately stands out about Ateng is that she has remained single to this day. Far from being an ugly duckling, dull or uninteresting, Ateng is quite pretty and smart that she was never lacking in suitors in her younger days.
She says she never got married because of our dear Inang (my mother, bless her soul!). By this, she probably meant she foresaw her role of being Inang’s caretaker in her old age (which she did until Inang’s death at age 92). And taking care of Inang while having a family of her own would certainly have been a complete disaster!
But there is another reason for Ateng to say Inang was the reason for her staying single. For Inang, no man was apparently good enough for her daughter! You see, whenever any guy would come to the house to court Ateng, and as soon as the guy had left the house, Inang would readily start her litany of imaginable reasons why the guy is not good enough for Ateng! Inang never hid her dislike for any guy who comes to court Ateng so that soon any prospect of a future love life for her was abbreviated when boys stopped coming to the house even just to befriend her.
I can imagine how Ateng must have suffered in her heart through all these, since she did like in particular one or two of the guys. In any case, she would only say later that if those guys were not brave enough to face her mother, then they also were not worth her time!
The irony of it all is that shortly before Inang died and when Ateng was already well past her marrying age, she kept urging Ateng to get married so she would have somebody to take care of her in her (Ateng’s) old age!
For me, I think Ateng never got married because she never found anyone who could come up to the high standards set by our beloved Tatang, the ideal husband and father and the man who was Ateng’s first love of her life (I am implying here that there is a second!). Also, being the only girl in a family with six other boys, she was Tatang’s little girl from the start. It is an open secret that unlike us boys, she never got to experience Tatang’s famous temper. Ateng’s lips are sealed when it comes to the extras that she got from being an only daughter of Tatang. We just know that the two of them must have had a deeper and unique relationship that none of us six boys ever had with Tatang… and that is why Tatang’s early death must have been most painful for her especially since she was not around to be with him when Tatang breathed his last.
Some years back when she had saved enough money and an opportunity presented itself, Ateng fulfilled her life’s dream for her Tatang. She invested in a memorial park lot in San Jose and there built a beautiful family mausoleum where Tatang’s remains were transferred. She said the mausoleum was primarily for Tatang who never owned a lot much less a decent home when he was still alive. Ateng would always say how she wish Tatang were still with her today to enjoy the many things he used to love like Chinese food, good coffee, classical music, movies, and little children (so like many of us Mendiola men, come to think of it!).
If you ask her, however, Ateng says, in jest of course, that she never got married because her husband would not have survived having six brothers-in-law who are her most vocal critics next to Inang when it comes to her suitors.
Seriously though, having never gotten married must have been in God’s plan for Ateng considering how she has touched her brothers’ lives all these years. From Kuyang our oldest down to Jessie our youngest, Ateng has always been around to support us either individually or as family men whatever our needs are and whatsoever it takes for her to help us. Her whole life has been one long story of selfless dedication and loving concern for us her six brothers and our families.
All these years, Ateng has been aging gracefully and embracing her God-given vocation as single woman faithfully.
Today, the 3rd of May 2009, our dear Ateng turns 70. As a tribute to her and to thank her for everything that she has done for us and for everything that she means to us, we (the whole clan) are surprising her with a party she never would forget.
Today, we want to make her feel that all her sacrifices for us have not been in vain, that like Martha in the bible, she truly is one sister who has lived up to her vocation of dedicated service and unselfish love for family!
It is also Good Shepherd Sunday today on her birthday. Come to think of it, we all have felt God's love all these years because Ateng has done such a good job shepherding us all!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Musings on Aging
“I am really getting older”, I was muttering to myself one morning as I tried to stand up from bed feeling achy all over my lower back and knees.
I am 67 years old but I must confess that I have never seriously considered myself elderly until recently when my two older brothers died leaving me as the oldest living male in our family. With the few grey hairs I have, I always thought I can still pass myself off as at least 10 years younger. I even proudly consider and tell others that I am a senior citizen but a “young” senior citizen. This is the reason too why sometimes I purposely do not avail of the senior citizen’s discount in restaurants, unless it involves a hefty sum.
I guess I am still in a denial mode like many others of my age. I blame it on the youth-oriented culture I live in where it is commonly said that “kalabaw lang ang tumatanda” (only carabaos grow old!). Ours too is a society that pretends old people do not exist somehow because they are reminders of something we do not want (death?). That is why anti-aging clinics and health spas, concoctions of ointments and creams, and food supplements that promise to make one look younger are so popular in our society.
"
So true is what Ram Dass says in his book, "Still Here: “The images our culture generates are designed to make you feel that aging is a kind of failure; that somehow God made a big mistake. If God were as smart as the commercials, people would be young forever, but since God isn’t, only the wonders of science and commerce can save us.”
But I guess I have to stop laying all the blame on our culture and begin not only accepting but even embracing aging gracefully and start the process of “living our dying” lest we find ourselves one day at death’s door unprepared to face our Maker.
To me, merely accepting aging is not enough. It is too passive. Like waiting for your call to board at the pre-departure area. When one looks at aging this way, the tendency is to brood over one’s losses – one’s youthful looks and strength, the roles one is used to that is now gone and the resulting feelings are self-pity, helplessness, uselessness and even depression.
The image of embracing, however, is more dynamic, more creative and more productive.
Let me share a recent experience. I went to the supermarket for some errands for Thelma one day. After paying for the goods at the counter, I scooped up the grocery bag only to put it down once again. I remembered that due to my bad back and damaged spinal disc, I had been advised not to carry loads heavier than 5 pounds. I mentally computed my load and I thought it was more than 5 pounds. There was no one with me and the car park was still a good walk away. I picked up the grocery bag just the same and instead of carrying it by the handle, I decided to embrace it! The load became much lighter! Try it.
Embracing aging is what Ram Dass means by “aging gracefully”. He continues: “The body and its aging journey can be viewed from a larger perspective… instead of bemoaning the loss of who we were in the past, we marvel instead at who we are becoming now. We may even learn to love our bodies, and to appreciate their different beauty, as they change from young to old.”
Of course, this is easier said than done. Because, as Ram Dass says again: “Our fear of the body as it ages is simply a mask for the fear of death.”
Let me share also what Henri J.M. Nouwen has to say on aging: “Likewise, the autumn of life has the potential to be very colorful: wisdom, humor, care, patience, and joy may bloom splendidly just before we die… The challenge of aging is waiting with an ever-greater patience and ever-stronger expectation. It is living with an eager hope.” (Bread for the Journey)
Fr. Ron Rolheiser, my favorite Oblate Spiritual writer has this to say on aging: “The major task of aging is that of mellowing - grieving, forgiving, letting go, accepting vulnerability, and moving beyond the greed, ambition, competitiveness, and perpetual disappointment of youth. Like a good wine, the soul needs to be mellowed in cracked old barrels (an apt image for aging bodies) to bring out its warm, rich character.”
Finally, I tried to google “aging in the bible” and was given hundreds of beautiful and inspiring references on the subject of aging in the Bible.
Now, all I can say is that it is great to be alive and aging!
I am 67 years old but I must confess that I have never seriously considered myself elderly until recently when my two older brothers died leaving me as the oldest living male in our family. With the few grey hairs I have, I always thought I can still pass myself off as at least 10 years younger. I even proudly consider and tell others that I am a senior citizen but a “young” senior citizen. This is the reason too why sometimes I purposely do not avail of the senior citizen’s discount in restaurants, unless it involves a hefty sum.
I guess I am still in a denial mode like many others of my age. I blame it on the youth-oriented culture I live in where it is commonly said that “kalabaw lang ang tumatanda” (only carabaos grow old!). Ours too is a society that pretends old people do not exist somehow because they are reminders of something we do not want (death?). That is why anti-aging clinics and health spas, concoctions of ointments and creams, and food supplements that promise to make one look younger are so popular in our society.
"
So true is what Ram Dass says in his book, "Still Here: “The images our culture generates are designed to make you feel that aging is a kind of failure; that somehow God made a big mistake. If God were as smart as the commercials, people would be young forever, but since God isn’t, only the wonders of science and commerce can save us.”
But I guess I have to stop laying all the blame on our culture and begin not only accepting but even embracing aging gracefully and start the process of “living our dying” lest we find ourselves one day at death’s door unprepared to face our Maker.
To me, merely accepting aging is not enough. It is too passive. Like waiting for your call to board at the pre-departure area. When one looks at aging this way, the tendency is to brood over one’s losses – one’s youthful looks and strength, the roles one is used to that is now gone and the resulting feelings are self-pity, helplessness, uselessness and even depression.
The image of embracing, however, is more dynamic, more creative and more productive.
Let me share a recent experience. I went to the supermarket for some errands for Thelma one day. After paying for the goods at the counter, I scooped up the grocery bag only to put it down once again. I remembered that due to my bad back and damaged spinal disc, I had been advised not to carry loads heavier than 5 pounds. I mentally computed my load and I thought it was more than 5 pounds. There was no one with me and the car park was still a good walk away. I picked up the grocery bag just the same and instead of carrying it by the handle, I decided to embrace it! The load became much lighter! Try it.
Embracing aging is what Ram Dass means by “aging gracefully”. He continues: “The body and its aging journey can be viewed from a larger perspective… instead of bemoaning the loss of who we were in the past, we marvel instead at who we are becoming now. We may even learn to love our bodies, and to appreciate their different beauty, as they change from young to old.”
Of course, this is easier said than done. Because, as Ram Dass says again: “Our fear of the body as it ages is simply a mask for the fear of death.”
Let me share also what Henri J.M. Nouwen has to say on aging: “Likewise, the autumn of life has the potential to be very colorful: wisdom, humor, care, patience, and joy may bloom splendidly just before we die… The challenge of aging is waiting with an ever-greater patience and ever-stronger expectation. It is living with an eager hope.” (Bread for the Journey)
Fr. Ron Rolheiser, my favorite Oblate Spiritual writer has this to say on aging: “The major task of aging is that of mellowing - grieving, forgiving, letting go, accepting vulnerability, and moving beyond the greed, ambition, competitiveness, and perpetual disappointment of youth. Like a good wine, the soul needs to be mellowed in cracked old barrels (an apt image for aging bodies) to bring out its warm, rich character.”
Finally, I tried to google “aging in the bible” and was given hundreds of beautiful and inspiring references on the subject of aging in the Bible.
Now, all I can say is that it is great to be alive and aging!
Friday, April 10, 2009
Reflection on the third last word of Jesus on the cross
I was one of seven lay persons chosen in our parish to share our reflections on the Seven Last Words of Jesus on the cross today, Good Friday.
Below is the Tagalog version of my sharing.
“Ina, masdan mo ang iyong anak…”
“Sana ako na lang.” Ang mga katagang ito ay madalas nating naririnig bigkasin ng isang Ina kapag may sakit ang kanyang anak o kung nakikita niya ang kanyang anak sa bingit ng kamatayan.
Habang pinagninilayan ko ang tagpong ito kung saan tahimik na pinagmamasdan ng Inang Maria ang kanyang anak na unti-unting nanghihina sa hirap at sakit na kanyang dinadanas, napagtanto ko na ang mga salitang “Sana ako na lang” ang maaring nananahan sa kanyang isipan at nais mamutawi sa kanyang mga labi sa mga sandaling iyon ng kanyang pagdadalamhati.
At habang nagtatagal ako sa aking pagninilay, lalong nagiging maliwanag sa aking isipan na kung maigi nating pag-tutuunan ng pansin ang eksena ng crucifixion ni Jesus sa paningin ng kanyang Ina, lalo lamang tumitindi ang ating pangingilabot. Sapagkat sa lahat ng uri ng kamatayan, ang pagkamatay ng isang anak na marahil ang siyang pinakamasakit sa isang magulang…, lalo na sa isang Ina. Lalo na kung nakikita niya sa kanyang harapan ang unti-unting pag-panaw ng anak dulot ng matinding hirap sa pagkakapako sa krus.
Salamat sa Diyos at bilang isang magulang ay hindi pa ako nakakaranas ng pagkamatay ng isang anak. Marahil ay alam niyang hindi ko kaya man lang isipin na mamatayan ako ng isang anak. Gaya na rin ng aking nasirang Ina na madalas sabihin ang ganito: “Wala akong ipinanalangin sa Panginoon kundi sana’y hindi ko maranasan na mauna ang anak kong mamatay kaysa akin.” Hindi daw po niya kayang makita ang kanyang anak na mamatay; hindi daw niya kayang maglibing ng anak.
Naalala ko rin tuloy ang sinabi ng isang inang namatayan ng anak: “Sa ordinaryong takbo ng buhay, ang anak ang naglilibing sa kanyang magulang. Kaya matatanto mo ba kung ang Ina ang maglilibing sa kanyang anak?” Mayroon din akong narinig na isang ina na nagtanong sa tindi ng kayang pagdadalamhati: “Kapag ang anak ay nawalan ng magulang, di ba tinatawag natin siyang ulila? At kapag ang isang asawa ay namatayan ng kanyang kabiyak, hindi ba tinatawag natin siyang balo? Subalit, mayroon ba tayong maitatawag sa isang ina na nawalan ng anak? WALA! Sapagkat walang angkop na salita sa ating bokabularyo upang maisalarawan ng tama ang pighati ng isang Ina na namatayan ng anak!
Dahil diyan ay wala ding makauunawa marahil ng dalamhating nadarama ng mahal na birheng ina sa tagpong ito sa kalbaryo. Sino ang makauunawa ng matindig pighati ni Maria samantalang pinagmamasdan niya ang mga huling sandali ng kanyang pinakamamahal na anak.
Ito ay walang iba -- kundi ang kanyang Anak na rin!
Subalit, ano ang magagawa sa sandaling ito ng anak para sa kanyang Ina? Ano ang kanyang maiiwan sa Inang mahal kung siya ay wala na? Paano niya lulunasan ang kanyang pighati? Paano niya mapararangalan ang Inang kanyang itinatangi?
At sa pagkakataong ito, nagsalita ang anak at binigkas ang kanyang huling habilin sa kanyang Inang pinakamamahal upang ipaalam sa kanyang ina ang pagunawa sa kanyang pagdadalamhati at ipadama ang kanyang pagmamahal hangang sa kabilang buhay. At sinabi ni Hesus: “Babae, hayan ang iyong anak.”
Sa puntong ito ay tila baga nagkaroon ng pangalawang annunciation. Kung sa unang annunciation, si Maria ay naging Ina ng Mananakop, sa pangalawang annunciation na ito si Maria ay naging Ina nating lahat. Kung baga ay sinabi ni Hesus sa kanyang Ina: “Ayan siya na aking minamahal upang sa iyo ay magmahal at upang iyo ding mahalin. Isang kapatid na nakakakilala sa akin. Isang anak na magtataguyod at magbibigay sa iyo ng kaaliwan. Isang tao na kayang makihati sa iyong pagdadalamhati. Ituring mo siyang iyong anak magmula ngayon.”
Subalit hindi dito nagtapos ang pangalawang annunciation. Upang makasiguro na naiintindihan nating lahat ang kanyang huling habilin, ibinaling ni Hesus ang kanyang pansin sa kanyang kaibigan at itinuturing na kapatid at idinugtong ang mga katagang ito: “Anak, narito ang iyong Ina.” Kung baga ay sinabi ni Hesus kay San Juan na kumakatawan sa ating lahat: “Narito ang iyong Ina, siya na nagdala sa akin sa kanyang sinapupunan sa loob ng siyam na buwan at nagpalaki sa akin, siya na nagpahid ng aking luha kung ako’y nasasaktan, siya na yumakap sa akin at humalik ng aking sugat kapag ako’y nadarapa. Siya magmula ngayon ang iyong Ina. Alagaan mo siya para sa akin, mahalin mo siya halintulad sa iyong tunay na Ina.”
Mga kapatid: ito ang huling habilin ni Hesus kay Maria at sa ating lahat, ang huling habilin ng isang taong sa pagkakataong ito ay malapit ng mamatay. Sinasabi sa atin na hindi natin dapat bale-walain ang huling habilin ng isang taong nasa huling sandali ng kanyang buhay.
“Ina, masdan mo ang iyong anak” Ang Mahal na Birheng Maria, ating Ina, ay paulit-ulit ng ipinahahayag sa ating lahat na siya ang ating Ina – sa Fatima, sa Lourdes at iba pa. Paulit ulit din niyang ipinadama sa ating buhay ang kanyang pagka-ina nating lahat. Ginampanan na niya ang huling bilin ng kanyang anak.
“Anak, masdan mo ang iyong Ina.” Samantala, ikaw at ako, tayong lahat ba ay ganun din? Isinagawa na ba natin ang huling habilin ni Hesus sa ating lahat? Inangkin at isinabuhay na ba natin si Maria bilang isang tunay na Ina?
Panalangin:
Panginoong Hesus, ang larawan ng iyong Ina sa paanan ng cruz ay tumimo ng malalim sa aking puso. Sa sandaling iyon ikaw ay hindi lamang isang Manunubos na unti-unting nawawalan ng hininga alang-alang sa aming mga kasalanan. Ikaw din ay isang tunay na tao gaya namin, isang anak na may ina.
Panginoon, paano kita mapasasalamatan sa lahat ng iyong paghihirap at sa pagbibigay mo sa akin ng iyong Ina? Walang sapat na salitang mamutawi sa aking mga labi. Ganun pa man, iniaalay ko ang aking masidhing pasasalamat sa lahat ng iyong paghihirap. Ibinibigay ko sa Iyo ang aking puso, pag-ibig….at lahat ng akin sapagkat ibinigay mo rin ang iyong lahat sa akin. Amen.
Below is the Tagalog version of my sharing.
“Ina, masdan mo ang iyong anak…”
“Sana ako na lang.” Ang mga katagang ito ay madalas nating naririnig bigkasin ng isang Ina kapag may sakit ang kanyang anak o kung nakikita niya ang kanyang anak sa bingit ng kamatayan.
Habang pinagninilayan ko ang tagpong ito kung saan tahimik na pinagmamasdan ng Inang Maria ang kanyang anak na unti-unting nanghihina sa hirap at sakit na kanyang dinadanas, napagtanto ko na ang mga salitang “Sana ako na lang” ang maaring nananahan sa kanyang isipan at nais mamutawi sa kanyang mga labi sa mga sandaling iyon ng kanyang pagdadalamhati.
At habang nagtatagal ako sa aking pagninilay, lalong nagiging maliwanag sa aking isipan na kung maigi nating pag-tutuunan ng pansin ang eksena ng crucifixion ni Jesus sa paningin ng kanyang Ina, lalo lamang tumitindi ang ating pangingilabot. Sapagkat sa lahat ng uri ng kamatayan, ang pagkamatay ng isang anak na marahil ang siyang pinakamasakit sa isang magulang…, lalo na sa isang Ina. Lalo na kung nakikita niya sa kanyang harapan ang unti-unting pag-panaw ng anak dulot ng matinding hirap sa pagkakapako sa krus.
Salamat sa Diyos at bilang isang magulang ay hindi pa ako nakakaranas ng pagkamatay ng isang anak. Marahil ay alam niyang hindi ko kaya man lang isipin na mamatayan ako ng isang anak. Gaya na rin ng aking nasirang Ina na madalas sabihin ang ganito: “Wala akong ipinanalangin sa Panginoon kundi sana’y hindi ko maranasan na mauna ang anak kong mamatay kaysa akin.” Hindi daw po niya kayang makita ang kanyang anak na mamatay; hindi daw niya kayang maglibing ng anak.
Naalala ko rin tuloy ang sinabi ng isang inang namatayan ng anak: “Sa ordinaryong takbo ng buhay, ang anak ang naglilibing sa kanyang magulang. Kaya matatanto mo ba kung ang Ina ang maglilibing sa kanyang anak?” Mayroon din akong narinig na isang ina na nagtanong sa tindi ng kayang pagdadalamhati: “Kapag ang anak ay nawalan ng magulang, di ba tinatawag natin siyang ulila? At kapag ang isang asawa ay namatayan ng kanyang kabiyak, hindi ba tinatawag natin siyang balo? Subalit, mayroon ba tayong maitatawag sa isang ina na nawalan ng anak? WALA! Sapagkat walang angkop na salita sa ating bokabularyo upang maisalarawan ng tama ang pighati ng isang Ina na namatayan ng anak!
Dahil diyan ay wala ding makauunawa marahil ng dalamhating nadarama ng mahal na birheng ina sa tagpong ito sa kalbaryo. Sino ang makauunawa ng matindig pighati ni Maria samantalang pinagmamasdan niya ang mga huling sandali ng kanyang pinakamamahal na anak.
Ito ay walang iba -- kundi ang kanyang Anak na rin!
Subalit, ano ang magagawa sa sandaling ito ng anak para sa kanyang Ina? Ano ang kanyang maiiwan sa Inang mahal kung siya ay wala na? Paano niya lulunasan ang kanyang pighati? Paano niya mapararangalan ang Inang kanyang itinatangi?
At sa pagkakataong ito, nagsalita ang anak at binigkas ang kanyang huling habilin sa kanyang Inang pinakamamahal upang ipaalam sa kanyang ina ang pagunawa sa kanyang pagdadalamhati at ipadama ang kanyang pagmamahal hangang sa kabilang buhay. At sinabi ni Hesus: “Babae, hayan ang iyong anak.”
Sa puntong ito ay tila baga nagkaroon ng pangalawang annunciation. Kung sa unang annunciation, si Maria ay naging Ina ng Mananakop, sa pangalawang annunciation na ito si Maria ay naging Ina nating lahat. Kung baga ay sinabi ni Hesus sa kanyang Ina: “Ayan siya na aking minamahal upang sa iyo ay magmahal at upang iyo ding mahalin. Isang kapatid na nakakakilala sa akin. Isang anak na magtataguyod at magbibigay sa iyo ng kaaliwan. Isang tao na kayang makihati sa iyong pagdadalamhati. Ituring mo siyang iyong anak magmula ngayon.”
Subalit hindi dito nagtapos ang pangalawang annunciation. Upang makasiguro na naiintindihan nating lahat ang kanyang huling habilin, ibinaling ni Hesus ang kanyang pansin sa kanyang kaibigan at itinuturing na kapatid at idinugtong ang mga katagang ito: “Anak, narito ang iyong Ina.” Kung baga ay sinabi ni Hesus kay San Juan na kumakatawan sa ating lahat: “Narito ang iyong Ina, siya na nagdala sa akin sa kanyang sinapupunan sa loob ng siyam na buwan at nagpalaki sa akin, siya na nagpahid ng aking luha kung ako’y nasasaktan, siya na yumakap sa akin at humalik ng aking sugat kapag ako’y nadarapa. Siya magmula ngayon ang iyong Ina. Alagaan mo siya para sa akin, mahalin mo siya halintulad sa iyong tunay na Ina.”
Mga kapatid: ito ang huling habilin ni Hesus kay Maria at sa ating lahat, ang huling habilin ng isang taong sa pagkakataong ito ay malapit ng mamatay. Sinasabi sa atin na hindi natin dapat bale-walain ang huling habilin ng isang taong nasa huling sandali ng kanyang buhay.
“Ina, masdan mo ang iyong anak” Ang Mahal na Birheng Maria, ating Ina, ay paulit-ulit ng ipinahahayag sa ating lahat na siya ang ating Ina – sa Fatima, sa Lourdes at iba pa. Paulit ulit din niyang ipinadama sa ating buhay ang kanyang pagka-ina nating lahat. Ginampanan na niya ang huling bilin ng kanyang anak.
“Anak, masdan mo ang iyong Ina.” Samantala, ikaw at ako, tayong lahat ba ay ganun din? Isinagawa na ba natin ang huling habilin ni Hesus sa ating lahat? Inangkin at isinabuhay na ba natin si Maria bilang isang tunay na Ina?
Panalangin:
Panginoong Hesus, ang larawan ng iyong Ina sa paanan ng cruz ay tumimo ng malalim sa aking puso. Sa sandaling iyon ikaw ay hindi lamang isang Manunubos na unti-unting nawawalan ng hininga alang-alang sa aming mga kasalanan. Ikaw din ay isang tunay na tao gaya namin, isang anak na may ina.
Panginoon, paano kita mapasasalamatan sa lahat ng iyong paghihirap at sa pagbibigay mo sa akin ng iyong Ina? Walang sapat na salitang mamutawi sa aking mga labi. Ganun pa man, iniaalay ko ang aking masidhing pasasalamat sa lahat ng iyong paghihirap. Ibinibigay ko sa Iyo ang aking puso, pag-ibig….at lahat ng akin sapagkat ibinigay mo rin ang iyong lahat sa akin. Amen.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Of Hello and Good-bye
Nico, Cecille and Nicole left over the weekend back to California after a three-week vacation here in Manila. It was Nico’s first vacation after six long years in the U.S. It was also a first visit for Cecille after her marriage to Nico three years ago. It may not be the first visit for Nicole (she was here on her first birthday), but it may have been her first as far as she was concerned.
I am sharing with you my letter to Nico as I described what transpired during these last three weeks and my feelings as we said good bye to each other.
To access the photos please go to http://pizz.multiply.com/photos/album/45/Vacation_Summary
My dear son,
I wanted to write since yesterday after you left but I just could not seem to get going.
Today is different…My feelings have settled.… I have gone back to my regular routine of going to daily mass with your mother and doing my walking rounds of the block around our neighborhood for my daily exercise…
Things also seem to have settled here at home with almost all traces of your having been here for the last three weeks gone… with only the memories remaining like a song that still keeps playing in my head.
I am still wondering how managed to fit everything we had planned into these past three weeks! Remember how you hit the ground running? No sooner had you arrived when we celebrated your birthday the next day with a party here at home with the Alvarez and Mendiola families? It was a wonderful reunion we had as you met once again your uncles, aunts, cousins, nephews, and nieces from both sides of your family after an absence of six long years.
Your other social appointments that had been laid out and forged previously – rounds of golf with your uncles and cousins, spa sessions, nights out with friends, a trip to Binan to visit with Cecille’s family and topped off by a trip to Tagaytay – were then all crammed into your schedule whenever possible as the days went by.
How can we forget the Boracay weekend getaway? Did I tell you It was only then that I realized that I had a complete family with me – wife, four children, three children in law, and a grandchild? It scared me no end thinking what could have happened while all of us were in that one plane on the way to Kalibo and back to Manila! In any case, I will just let you young guys talk through your social sites i.e., facebook, multiply, etc, through photos of what you all did in Boracay. For one thing, I was missing in all if not most of your Boracay escapades anyway! Ah, yes, of course, I must mention that that weekend was also your mother’s birthday and we celebrated it on our last day in Boracay and ended the long day by trooping over to the MOA (Mall of Asia) straight from the airport on our way home.
Of course, how fitting it was to end your vacation with Nicole’s birthday party. Although dampened somewhat by a sudden summer rain, the party was a huge success as shown by the number of people who came and the gifts that Nicole received. Not only were there relatives from the Alvarez and Mendiola families, but also friends of our family from all over. It was truly a children’s party with Dora and friends as motif. There were the usual balloons, playthings, ice cream and cotton candy carts, Nicole’s favorite French fries from NYFD, and cupcake giveaways. I noticed during the party that Nicole did not seem to be herself and apparently was not enjoying. But then I realized it must have been just the overwhelming effect of the number of people. She has never seen so many people in a party and all fuzzing over her! She was herself once again after the party when all the strangers were gone and she was alone with us as she opened her gifts.
Speaking of Nicole, it all dawned on me yesterday while we were making our good-byes that this vacation was really all about her after all. Especially when you came into my room and told me how difficult it was for you to go. And all because of Nicole who was vehemently refusing to accept that it was time to go back home to California.
Your mother and sisters described to me the airport scene – how nobody wanted to speak, how everyone was teary eyed, how Nicole kept crying and saying “I don’t wanna go home! I want to go back Lola’s house!” “Lola’s house” (our house) seem to have symbolized happiness and joy to her very young mind.
In any case, like I told you, let us not underestimate a child’s resiliency. And I know that my grandchild is smart. She will get it over with sooner than we expect.
She will learn that this whole experience is actually one big lesson in life for her. That life is a series of hellos and good-byes and not just one big hello. That there are joys in hellos and sadness in good-byes. That she is loved and loved much by many. That she too has a capacity to love and give happiness to others. That she cannot always get what she wants.
Finally, it may sound strange but I want to say I am missing you now more than Nicole! This was my feeling yesterday and it still lingers on as I write this. I think it is because I deliberately distanced myself from Nicole while she was around. Maybe I did not want to compete with your mother and sisters. But more so, I think, because I did not want to miss her so much when she is gone.
But you were different. I felt you made all the efforts to be near me whenever possible to engage me in small talk and just be there as I sat alone in my room. I assure you, son, I appreciate those special moments with you. And yes, thank you for fixing my computer and for taking the effort to get for me the “24” series!
Finally, I hope the vacation did you a lot of good, has recharged you and refreshed you to face the bigger challenges ahead. You know your mother and I are just here and that
We love you,
Papa
I am sharing with you my letter to Nico as I described what transpired during these last three weeks and my feelings as we said good bye to each other.
To access the photos please go to http://pizz.multiply.com/photos/album/45/Vacation_Summary
My dear son,
I wanted to write since yesterday after you left but I just could not seem to get going.
Today is different…My feelings have settled.… I have gone back to my regular routine of going to daily mass with your mother and doing my walking rounds of the block around our neighborhood for my daily exercise…
Things also seem to have settled here at home with almost all traces of your having been here for the last three weeks gone… with only the memories remaining like a song that still keeps playing in my head.
I am still wondering how managed to fit everything we had planned into these past three weeks! Remember how you hit the ground running? No sooner had you arrived when we celebrated your birthday the next day with a party here at home with the Alvarez and Mendiola families? It was a wonderful reunion we had as you met once again your uncles, aunts, cousins, nephews, and nieces from both sides of your family after an absence of six long years.
Your other social appointments that had been laid out and forged previously – rounds of golf with your uncles and cousins, spa sessions, nights out with friends, a trip to Binan to visit with Cecille’s family and topped off by a trip to Tagaytay – were then all crammed into your schedule whenever possible as the days went by.
How can we forget the Boracay weekend getaway? Did I tell you It was only then that I realized that I had a complete family with me – wife, four children, three children in law, and a grandchild? It scared me no end thinking what could have happened while all of us were in that one plane on the way to Kalibo and back to Manila! In any case, I will just let you young guys talk through your social sites i.e., facebook, multiply, etc, through photos of what you all did in Boracay. For one thing, I was missing in all if not most of your Boracay escapades anyway! Ah, yes, of course, I must mention that that weekend was also your mother’s birthday and we celebrated it on our last day in Boracay and ended the long day by trooping over to the MOA (Mall of Asia) straight from the airport on our way home.
Of course, how fitting it was to end your vacation with Nicole’s birthday party. Although dampened somewhat by a sudden summer rain, the party was a huge success as shown by the number of people who came and the gifts that Nicole received. Not only were there relatives from the Alvarez and Mendiola families, but also friends of our family from all over. It was truly a children’s party with Dora and friends as motif. There were the usual balloons, playthings, ice cream and cotton candy carts, Nicole’s favorite French fries from NYFD, and cupcake giveaways. I noticed during the party that Nicole did not seem to be herself and apparently was not enjoying. But then I realized it must have been just the overwhelming effect of the number of people. She has never seen so many people in a party and all fuzzing over her! She was herself once again after the party when all the strangers were gone and she was alone with us as she opened her gifts.
Speaking of Nicole, it all dawned on me yesterday while we were making our good-byes that this vacation was really all about her after all. Especially when you came into my room and told me how difficult it was for you to go. And all because of Nicole who was vehemently refusing to accept that it was time to go back home to California.
Your mother and sisters described to me the airport scene – how nobody wanted to speak, how everyone was teary eyed, how Nicole kept crying and saying “I don’t wanna go home! I want to go back Lola’s house!” “Lola’s house” (our house) seem to have symbolized happiness and joy to her very young mind.
In any case, like I told you, let us not underestimate a child’s resiliency. And I know that my grandchild is smart. She will get it over with sooner than we expect.
She will learn that this whole experience is actually one big lesson in life for her. That life is a series of hellos and good-byes and not just one big hello. That there are joys in hellos and sadness in good-byes. That she is loved and loved much by many. That she too has a capacity to love and give happiness to others. That she cannot always get what she wants.
Finally, it may sound strange but I want to say I am missing you now more than Nicole! This was my feeling yesterday and it still lingers on as I write this. I think it is because I deliberately distanced myself from Nicole while she was around. Maybe I did not want to compete with your mother and sisters. But more so, I think, because I did not want to miss her so much when she is gone.
But you were different. I felt you made all the efforts to be near me whenever possible to engage me in small talk and just be there as I sat alone in my room. I assure you, son, I appreciate those special moments with you. And yes, thank you for fixing my computer and for taking the effort to get for me the “24” series!
Finally, I hope the vacation did you a lot of good, has recharged you and refreshed you to face the bigger challenges ahead. You know your mother and I are just here and that
We love you,
Papa
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