A Sponge

Leo* and Sheila* had been close friends since college. Sheila fell hopelessly in love with Leo and Leo knew it. But to save the friendship, Sheila kept her feelings at bay and remained the warm and casual friend to Leo. In fairness to Leo, he acted just as casual as Sheila did.

Sheila felt relieved when they finally graduated from college and eventually parted ways. But after a couple of years, Leo found her and paid her a visit. Just like before, they talked a lot. But Leo did most of the talking and Sheila, as always, assured Leo’s undeclared fears, smoothed his ruffled feathers and made him feel good. Then, after that he disappeared and Sheila didn’t hear from him again.

After several years, Leo tracked her down. He told her how much he’d changed. He was no longer the uneasy fellow he once was. He was proud of his newly-found confidence. He was already ranting for minutes when he finally thought to ask Sheila how she was. Sheila said she was doing well with her life. She was settled and, in fact, there will be a celebration in their house the following week and she even invited Leo, sincerely wishing he would come. Leo promised but didn’t show up.

After several more years, Leo found Sheila again. But this time Leo already made a name for himself. He told Sheila about his transformation and how thankful he was to her for being the one to bring about that transformation. As she used to do, Sheila just listened, saying the right words and asking the right questions. But she was beginning to realize how Leo was treating her all this time.

Tracked down when needed and discarded after use.

As Sheila expected, she never heard of Leo again for another year. And when she did, it was when Leo was starting to feel down and unsure about himself. And she finally learned what she was to Leo. She was a SPONGE, not a FRIEND. And she felt very very sorry, not for herself, but for Leo. Because all this time, he never knew what he's got.

*not real name

We Didn’t Need the Internet in the 80's and We Survived

Yes, we didn’t but we managed to survive. Moreover, no one can say that we are less smart than those kids who were born during the computer era. 

So, why is the internet so crucial in our live today? Why is it that we feel so doomed when the internet is out? Why do we feel painfully frustrated when we can’t login to Facebook or we can’t post on Twitter?

Why do we let ourselves so..  dependent on the internet that we feel oppressed and seemingly depressed when we don’t have it in our lives?

I can understand those kids who grew up with it. They don’t know otherwise. But for us who were used to snail mail and chatting-under-the moonlight and libraries, why do we allow slow internet connection to get to us when we didn’t have it then?

Have we grown too lazy to read reference books because we got used to googling? Have we grown too impatient to wait till morning to say what we have to say to our friends that we have the urgent need to send a private message on Facebook? Have we become too needy that we need to post our complaints on Twitter to let other people know how we feel at the moment? Most importantly, have we no sense of privacy anymore that we post on social media everything that goes on in our lives?

Maybe I’m just too traditional to keep the old ways of life like reading printed pages instead of googling, taking time to visit friends instead of sending private messages and enjoying moments of privacy with family, relatives and friends without posting pictures on Facebook.

It’s not a sort of rebellion. I simply.. prefer it that way.

I’m not a hypocrite as to say I don't need social media or ultimately the internet. As a matter of fact, my husband works abroad and we get in touch regularly through Skype. I am also a blogger and I make small amounts of money online. So, for me, to say I don't need social media makes absolutely no sense.

So, why am I writing this article? 

I just want to point out that slow internet connection is not the end of the world and that we need to spend time away from social media to do something else, like... 'stop and smell the flowers..' 

I know I sound old-fashioned but believe me.. I enjoy life, I mean.. life away from the internet, and I want others to enjoy it too.   

Time is a gift. Let's spend it in meaningful ways, because when it passed by us, we can never have it back again...

When We Stop Caring

Yesterday, I met two of my close friends in college. They are both smart and I like them a lot. But there are something about both of them that, not actually, bothers me, but, makes me feel.. wary. They both have a tendency to freak out, as in really freak out. And when they do, all hell breaks loose.

They said they can’t tolerate stupid and incompetent people. I find it a little.. harsh(?). Well, I told them that stupid people are everywhere and there is nothing any of us can do about that. Then, they told me about the time that they had ranted at people and I found myself wincing at their stories. But as I listened to them, I came to the conclusion that they wouldn’t rant unless they were provoked. By my, how often and how easily they got provoked..

As for me, ranting is the last resort. And I can remember only two instances that I ranted. And though I got what I wanted, I wasn’t happy with what I did. I felt that I failed somehow and that I should have handled the situation more diplomatically. But it was done and there’s nothing I can do to undo it, so I have to live with the guilt and the shame of embarrassing and hurting other people by my ranting.

Then, I asked my friends.. ‘When you rant at people, do you ever consider how they would feel?’

And they said they don’t care..

Well, that’s it. That’s the difference between them and me. Because I care, in fact, I care a lot about how other people will feel. And I don’t want to stop caring.. EVER.

College Infatuation

Well, I know it sounds.. cheesy. Besides, I don’t even know if there really is such thing as college infatuation, high school infatuation, yes, but college, I’m not really sure.

Anyways, when I was a college freshman, I met this really really smart guy. At first, you would actually mistake him for a nerd. But then again, when you get to know him better, you will realize that he really is cool only three times smarter than the average guy and I liked him.

Too bad he was already involved with someone else that time. Besides, I didn’t even know if he would like me the same way I did him, right? Still, it was enough for me to be just an ordinary acquaintance to him. I felt flattered when he would engage me in a sort of philosophical discussion that was actually Greek to me. What I enjoyed most, however, was when we discuss literary stuff. I read as much as he did so I guess we were in equal footing. He was the one who introduced some classic novels to me and I actually read most of what he recommended.

Who would ever know that we would meet again after more than two decades. The moment I saw him, I felt the same.. awe that I had always felt for him. And when he spoke, I was enthralled and was taken back to the time when I was a college freshman with my head filled with ridiculous ideas and eyes all dreamy with infatuation.

The only difference is that, I am now older and wiser and tougher. And as we talked, I realized why I liked him before. He is so… ‘not ordinary’.

I was so happy to see him again and I really wish him all the best life can give. Wherever he is, may he continue to use his talents and skills to make a difference in the world.

Do We Teach Our Kids to Pray?

This is a re-post. It originally appeared on another blog on Feb. 12, 2014. It is re-posted for sentimental reasons.

When my kids were young, we used to pray together before we go to sleep. I told them to thank the Lord first for all the blessings that we receive every day. Then, ask Him to keep all of us safe and healthy, to watch over them while they study and play and finally to make them good and smart kids. I told them to ask everything in Jesus’ name.

Though we have stopped this ritual of praying together before going to sleep a few years back, I believe in my heart that they do pray on their own.

Last year, my eldest daughter’s close friend had a problem. It seems like, her mother, who has been separated from her father, who already has a new family, was seriously ill.

Trying to comfort her friend, my daughter told her to pray for her mother’s health and to ask for strength from God in order to overcome whatever it was they were facing at the moment. My daughter was stunned when her friend said she didn’t know how to pray. At first, she thought her friend was joking. But when the girl cried, my daughter realized that though her friend goes to mass every Sunday, she didn’t really learn to talk to God.

I felt sad for my daughter’s friend. I know that her parents have been separated. Her father has a new family and her mother is working abroad to support her and her brother. They may have the latest and most expensive gadgets available in the market, but I guess they feel lonely sometimes. I hope my daughter was able to teach her to communicate with God, because if that is so, she wouldn’t feel lonely anymore.

So Much for Childhood Friends

Paul* has been my friend since we were in grade four. Ours was a friendship that neither of us recognized at first. I can still remember how we used to bicker with each other and how I rolled my eyes at him and he would throw me a disgusting look that told me I was the most ridiculous person in the world.

Things changed when we went to high school. By that time, though we never talked about it, we knew that we’ve gone a long way back. He knew he could count on me and I knew I could depend on him. Aside from my own circle of girl friends, Paul was one constant thing in my routine. He usually dropped by at our house to talk about anything. Among the topics we usually discussed were the time he was selling ice candy around town, the time his mother died and the girl he was head-over-heels in love with. I can still remember buying a load of pandesal from him at dawn to help him finish early and helping him smuggle a picture of his lady love. Those were such ‘good ole days’.

We went to college and we matured and so did our friendship. Then he got married. I was happy for him. I met his wife and I was glad that he found such a nice and smart woman. They had been through difficult times and through all those times, I made my presence felt. The difficult times were long and they were taking a toll on Paul I started to worry about him. But I stood by him no matter what, replied to his text messages even in the dead of night because I knew he needed someone to talk to.

So, I was more shocked than surprised when I learned he’d gone abroad. I was happy for him, I really was. But going so far away without letting me know, without even dropping a hint was a blow to me. I felt hurt, but I assumed he had his reasons. He was abroad long when I finally received an email from him. I was so glad to hear from him I forgot how hurt I was for what he did. We started to chat regularly and I was genuinely happy for what he was starting to make for himself.

Then, I didn’t hear from him for a couple of months. So, when I learned that he had come home and was already back abroad, I wasn’t just hurt, I was angry. It was such an unfamiliar feeling I didn’t know how to handle it. This time, I didn’t need to justify him. It was for me plain and simple. He didn’t want to see me and that was that. For whatever reasons he had, I simply don’t care anymore.

Today, I saw his picture on Facebook and felt sad. And I realized how much I miss him, not that smiling man on Facebook but the young boy I grew up with. Because wherever he is now, he is still my friend and the times we shared together will never be changed, not even by him or me.

*not real name

Coincidences vs Miracles

This is a re-post. It originally appeared on another blog on Feb. 07, 2014. It is re-posted for sentimental reasons.

Most of the time, I’m so preoccupied with my problems that I fail to notice the hand of God working on me and my family.

When I quit my job in 2012, I was thinking so hard and so bitterly why the plans I so carefully laid out didn’t work out. A few months later, my daughter had an accident and underwent surgery. I thought how good the timing was that it happened when I didn’t have any other responsibilities and I was able to attend to her with undivided attention.

And during that time also, my husband was doing well at work that he was sending more than he used to which covered my lost income. Again, timely. But when my husband’s luck ran out and he was back to sending the usual amount, I panicked. How could I make both ends meet now with my eldest in private school in college.

Then, my daughter announced that she earned a full scholarship for the next semester.

Coincidences? No, they are miracles..

There are more. In fact, there are so much more that I can’t count them. But the bottom line is that God watches over me, fixes my problems and provides for my needs and I am humbled by his generosity.

Let us be thankful for all the miracles that God grants us every day and let’s try not to be like this..

“Then some teachers of the Law and some Pharisees spoke up ‘Teacher,’ they said, ‘we want to see you perform a miracle.’ Matthew 12: 38

When Fairy Tale Ends

My friend Jamie* married a wealthy foreigner. It was a marriage made in heaven. In her wedding gown fit for a princess, Jamie was the perfect bride. Beside her was her dashing groom, Bob*, with his eyes filled with love and passion.

Bob gave Jamie the life every woman dreams of. He gave her lovely house where she, alone, reigns supreme.  In her end, Jamie made the house the perfect nest for a family. She made it comfortable and warm. She always kept food and nice wine, and the sheets and linens are always fresh. When Bob thinks that Jamie feels down, he books her a flight home so she could visit her family. And sometimes, he would surprise her by making her parents visit them abroad.

When their eldest was born, Jamie’s cup filled to overflowing. However, to take better care of the baby, she started sleeping at the nursery to keep watch and tend to the baby’s needs. Bob understood and thanked Jamie for being such a wonderful mother. When her daughter was born, Jamie’s life was complete.

But minding two children meant less time for Bob. But thinking that her husband didn’t mind, Jamie focused her life on her children, after all, they were his children, too. After several years, Jamie had to come home to her ailing mother. With unlimited funds, Jamie took her mother to an expensive hospital. But money couldn’t buy life, and death couldn’t be bribed. Her mother died and she went back home hoping to find comfort in her husband’s arms.

But her husband though attentive was somehow distant. So, Jamie started to suspect him of having an affair. She nagged him into admission. But when the admission came, it was even worse than she feared. He didn’t have an affair, or if he did, it was nothing serious to be considered. He fell out of love with her.

Then it came down to her how he neglected him and his needs all these years. How he gave her a wonderful life but all she cared about were their children. And because she didn’t hear him complain even once, she thought it was alright, but now she learned that it wasn’t. And his last words to her was ‘you’re a great mother but not a good wife’.

Jamie tried to win her husband back and to save her marriage. But after a few years of trying, she gave up. Late last year, we went out together and I learned that Bob already signed the divorce paper. The children would stay with him but he has been kind enough to let her stay in the house, but not as his wife but as the mother of their children.

Good luck, Jamie, may the Lord give you strength to start again, and may he bless you happiness that you thought you have lost..

*not real name

How Easily We Judged

This is a re-post. This article originally appeared on another blog on Feb. 02, 2014. This is re-posted for sentimental reasons.

Recently, the Philippines was shocked by the news about actor/singer/dancer/host Vhong Navarro being beaten black and blue by a group of men led by businessman Cedric Lee, friend to model Deniece Cornejo who accused the actor of attempted rape.

Photos of black eyed Vhong flooded Facebook followed by various comments mostly of support for the popular actor. In just a few days, the story about ‘the mauling’ and ‘the raping’ were the primary topics in social media as people express their opinions on the three people involved.

‘Rapist’ (to Vhong) and ‘deserves to be raped’ to Deniece were among the comments I had the misfortune of laying my eyes to. I started to avoid any news or comments about the incident since then.

Funny how some people jump at the first opportunity to judge others, insisting that they are entitled to their own opinions. But they don’t seem stating opinions to me, they sound more like passing judgment. It just shows how lowly people think of others which follows that they think highly of themselves.

Are we really that blind to our own mistakes? How can we call someone a rapist when we weren’t even sure if he did it? And who are we to decide who deserves what?

Let’s not forget EVER..

“Do not judge others, so that God will not judge you.” (Matthew 7:1)

We Learned Young

When I was in college, I had this friend, Luna*. She was a sweet thing who was still gullible at 19. She was one of those girls who didn’t think they would be duped just because they weren’t doing anything wrong. Oh well, I was younger than Luna but I wasn’t thinking that way.

Anyways, though I was expecting something like that from Luna, I was still surprised when I learned that his boyfriend got her pregnant and that they were getting married. Ok, so, they loved each other, or so they thought, I guess, as a friend, I have to be happy for them, right?

After four years, we paid them a visit in their cramped apartment and I could say they were actually doing well. So, that time, I felt genuinely happy for them. But I realized my happiness was premature, because after ten years, I learned from other friends that her husband left her for another woman leaving her their four kids.

But looking at her FB account, Luna doesn’t look sweet and gullible anymore. She still looks pretty but tough and I guess it pays a ton to learn young..

 *not real name

The First Step

This is a re-post. It originally appeared on another blog on Jan. 12, 2014. It is re-posted for sentimental reasons.

One day, my 19-year old daughter, Candid, told me a lesson she learned in her young life. She said that she just realized what makes up life. She said that it’s made up of goals.

When I didn’t speak and just waited for her to continue, she did. She said, when she went to college, her goal was to earn a scholarship, even a partial one. And as I posted last November, she earned full scholarship for getting a general weighted average of 1.11. Then, another goal she set for herself was to buy a tablet with her own money. So, she kept her birthday money and saved more money from her allowance.She refrained from buying something on impulse. Until finally, she was able to save enough for a tablet.

Now that she already achieved her two most important goals, she felt somehow lost. She didn’t know what to do next. And then, the answer dawned on her, she needed another set of goals and so she did set up a more ambitious one. She wanted to graduate cum laude with a dream to work in television network.

Then, as supplementary goals, she said she must watch a film on her days off from school, which I believe is another preparation for her future if she indeed, gets to work in television. Also, she must read everyday, she must not let the day pass by without reading even a single chapter of a book. And right now, she’s reading Suzanne Collin’s Catching Fire, the second book of the Hunger Games Series.

I was.. glad. Not just glad, but outright happy. I look at my daughter and see a beautiful, intelligent and responsible woman. I’m not a show-off by nature, but at this point in time, I felt so proud for having brought up into the world such a wonderful person.

The Husband

Rudy* was my classmate in high school. We belonged to the same class for four years and all those years I could say we became friends, maybe not very close but friends nonetheless.

Since I’ve always been the one to organize our reunions, I was wondering why Rudy very seldom attends. Then a common acquaintance enlightened me. It seems like Rudy married a hateful woman. It might be subjective but I listened just the same.

The woman almost never let Rudy out her sight. She never let him go out with friends, especially the old ones. She always checks on his cell phone. She even opens Rudy’s Facebook account. She probably was the one who receives my messages and invitations to reunions. She nags Rudy in front of his friends.

I heard a lot more but I didn’t want to listen anymore. I just felt sad for Rudy. But I’m not sure if he was sad for himself. I just wish he’s happy..

*not real name

Problem of Forgetfulness

One of things that I’m so proud about myself was my sharp memory. It was probably the reason why other people thought I was smart, because I remember a lot of things, and since I’m a voracious reader, I  learned a lot from what I read and I was able to share what I learned to others because I remember them.

I remember names, dates, specific details, so I had no problem with history and biology. I remember songs and singers and composers as well as poems and writers, titles of books and authors. There was even a time when I was in mid 20s that I remember serial numbers of air conditioning equipment and my PLDT budget card number which was composed of 16 digits.

I knew how special that gift was. I used it, I enjoyed it and I never ever abuse it in any way nor use it in a bad way. But much as I want to hold on to it for much longer, it’s beginning to slip away, probably due to old age, stress or something else.

For the past 10 years, I’ve been starting to forget things.. like names of old acquaintances, dates of special occasions, places I’ve been to, titles of movies I watched. I can’t even memorize songs lately. Then, I started to forget schedules of departmental meetings, PTA meetings, list of things to buy from the mall, even the list of what to do the whole day.

My husband said I have to start writing things down, so I tried it, but I forgot where I wrote them. And eventually, I forgot that I wrote a list at all so I just wasted time writing a list. But the worst case of my forgetfulness was when I was in the middle of a lecture. I was discussing a topic I knew by heart and the words were just naturally and spontaneously coming out of my mouth, and then… I stopped in the middle of a sentence because I forgot what I was about to say.

I stood frozen in the middle of the room with 30 or so pairs of eyes looking at me, waiting for what I have to say. I didn’t know what to do. Clueless, I turned around and faced the board. Luckily, I wrote down some of the important details I was discussing, so, I got an idea about the topic I had in hand.

I was shaken. After the lecture, I went to my locker and cried. I knew I was losing something very special and I was sad and scared. I was so scared I checked out the symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease. But then again, if it would go, it would go no matter how much I want to hold on to it. And since I don’t believe much in memory enhancers or whatever they call it, I decided to just enjoy it while I still have it and if it goes, it goes..