I was on my way home when I got a text message from someone who has been a friend for more than 20 years - I was stupefied when I read her text. It wasn't addressed to me, in fact it was addressed to someone who must have done her a big wrong for her to earn her wrath. I sent her a text reply asking for clarification. I told her that it should not have been sent to me, as I don't recall myself being a mistress to anybody (more so her husband). I wonder what she meant by it. She replied immediately telling me that it was really meant for me. It was actually the same text message that she sent back to her husband's mistress and she wanted me to know about it. And it dawned on me that my friend was actually opening up to me at that very minute her well-kept secret. I told her that she could have picked a better opportune time as I was trying my best to balance myself aboard the jampacked LRT. The young girl beside me, whose face was just inches away from me, gave me a queer look, torn between branding me a mistress or not, as I don't look the part at all. That text was followed by more than 50 text messages, with my friend pouring out her heart and anger. I imagine her beating the speed of the fastest typist in Recto while keying the letters on her celfone's keyboard.
My friend has been married for 9 years now (she prefers to use the term "was married"). She was in her early 30's when she got married. They met at work. She has always been the jolly type, the one whom I thought would stay single for the rest of her life as that was what she preferred then. But Cupid decided to fire his love arrow at my friend's heart, and she fell in love with this creature (duh, I can't even call him a man). I can still recall their afternoon wedding held in one of the gardens at then Nayong Pilipino. It was a very beautiful day, and not a few visitors shed tears as the couple promised to love one another "for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do they part" while in the background, the sweet melody of Maureen McGovern's The Promise (I'll Never Say Goodbye) was being played. Cheesy me cried that time until I saw the photographer focusing on me and I smiled. :)
After more than a year, they were blessed with a baby girl. My friend continued to be a working mom, balancing personal life with a blossoming career in the corporate world. Through the years, I witnessed her joys of being a mom and wife. Let me emphasize "joys" because I never came to know of her experiencing any "pain" in her married life. We tried our best to meet as often as we could, together with our ex-boss, who has since retired from the office where we all met and became friends, more than 20 years ago. It was a joy to listen to her stories, and judging from her looks and her stories, I would say that she was fulfilled. After a few years in the corporate world, my friend decided to become a full time mom and wife. It was a decision that surprised me much, but then not many women could make such sacrifice. After all, his husband is gainfully employed, and in addition, they established a sub-contracting company complete with all-in-one hardware store. They have a joint bank account and my friend was wonderfully secure in the arms of "the creature".
The "mini-reunion" continued through the years, sometimes as often as every two months, and a few times, "the creature" joined us and I must say that I didn't even sense anything wrong with their relationship - until the day my friend sent me the text message.
Apparently, sometime in November 2008, "the creature" asked for some "space" in their relationship and told my friend that he needs counseling in order to make their marriage more solid. My friend gave him the "space" he needed, only for her to discover later that he seemingly had a different interpretation of the word "space". All his clothes were gone, together with all their savings in the bank. My friend was astonished - she found herself abandoned and almost broke. As expected, "the creature" came back sometime in December and they had a civil talk. "The creature" told my friend that he plans to stay with his family while undergoing counseling and my friend respected that decision. They both agreed for "the creature" to pick up their only child from home every Friday and spend the weekend with him.
It was from the child from whom my friend discovered that "the creature" was now into a new relationship. By then the mistress was staying over "the creature's" other house for a few days, with "the creature's" mother and siblings tolerating this arrangement. My friend's child blurted out the secret to my friend and cried her heart out and asked why her new "Tita" is very close to her dad and they're both "acting strange". The nerve! And my friend's child is only 7 years old, take note.
If Rambo could see my friend, he sure would have asked my friend to take part on his movie's sequel. If words could kill, then "the creature's" other house would have been ashes by now.
Three months later, my friend decided to open up to me and our ex-boss. By now, she's into a full-blown fight with the mistress, who has since gained much confidence basking in the so called glory of being chosen over the original wife. But the mistress should take heed, "basking" is only one letter different from "bashing", which is exactly what my friend is raring to do to that woman's head. But ever the "girlie" one, I could say that my friend would only do so if Hello Kitty (Japan) comes out with a baseball bat, pink edition.
After personally talking to my friend for hours and in the process gaining two pounds over a sumptuous meal of Norwegian salmon pasta and egg mayo sandwich from Delifrance, which we finished off with Four Seasons juice and then hopping off to a nearby coffee shop for a brownie and a cup of coffee, I can say that my friend would surely survive the departure of "the creature" from their nest. Yes, she was teary eyed a few times during our conversation but she quickly recovered and I could honestly say that it was not a put-on, she really is a brave woman. Her daughter is a survivor too, having been raised by my friend as an independent-minded child. I can surmise that they will be both okay, in due time.
As for "the creature" and his mistress (named Em), well I can just wish them both some luck. Even Cupid makes mistakes you know, and someday, Cupid's missus will certainly discover the mistake that Cupid has done and she will take away the love arrow from these two undeserving creatures, and what happens next? Well, even Darth Vader needs something to do to occupy his time. Perhaps he could practice his laser sword on these two creatures.....
Friday, March 13, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
A bucket of fried chicken
It was payday yesterday and for a treat, I bought a bucket meal at KFC - 8 pcs of crispy fried chicken, 2 bowls of pasta, 4 packs of rice and softdrinks. All of these probably amount to 5,000 calories or more, I actually don't know and I actually don't care, at least for today.
In an ordinary middle-income family like ours, with a salary that's just about enough to make both ends meet from payday to the next, having a KFC bucket meal is surely considered a special treat. In fact, my heart skipped a beat when I saw the delight in the faces of my two sons when they saw me with the bucket meal. Everyday when I arrive home and they hear the creaking of our gate being opened, it's their cue to stand up and meet me at the door, and help me with whatever I am holding, and to do the customary "kissing of the hand of the elderly" (sorry but I'm still resisting the term elderly).
My husband mobilized at once the small army of two teenage sons in setting up the dinner table to be able to eat the prized bucket meal while still hot. My loyal and ever gentle dog nudged my hand while I was walking towards the dinner table. He too knows that there's something special for dinner.
Dinner time for us is precious. It's the time when my sons have the opportunity to update us on how their day was. It's quite tricky, but it's also the time when I can sense if they're holding back something from me. As a mother with superior intuition, I could feel if they're up to something and having raised them up with no talent in telling lies, one look at them and they will say everything they've been wanting to say, including special requests for an increase in allowance (which is usually turned down). If there's gonna be an increase in allowance for the next day, it has to be fully justified, just like defending a theses. My sons know how hard life is. I want them to know reality, and not live in a cocoon, thinking that life is a bed of roses.
My husband, the ever supportive one, just quietly listens to all the ramblings, and sometimes making a comment or two, most specially when our conversation reaches the "current events" section of the dinner. It's his turf. My faithful dog stands beside me, with his jaw on my lap, waiting for a chicken bit from me. The bucket meal dinner lasted for about an hour. We were oblivious to the news being presented on TV. For us, that bucket meal is the "news of the day".
After dinner, again, my husband mobilized his small army to do their tasks. My younger son is usually tasked to clean up after dinner, while the elder one takes care of the dishes. Almost always, my eldest requests for exceptional approval to delay his task for one hour or more, just to watch TV. I always say yes.
But last night was different. While I was sitting in front of the computer, I glanced at my two sons who were left sitting at the dinner table. They were talking and laughing about mundane things, and this seldom happens, I honestly can say. With six years age gap, they often have differences in opinion and interests - a specific example - my youngest is thinking of becoming a priest, while my eldest wants to be a rapper. See? I must admit seeing them enjoying each other's company made me teary-eyed (cheesy me). I saw my husband and our dog in our sala, sitting cozily beside each other looking contented.
What a big difference a bucket meal for dinner can do! I think I should really put this in my workplan for next payday. I said a silent prayer that God does a miracle in my payslip so I can afford the bucket meal more often. It's a prayer that I am sure God will answer in no time at all - and perhaps with additional mashed potatoes and french fries.
In an ordinary middle-income family like ours, with a salary that's just about enough to make both ends meet from payday to the next, having a KFC bucket meal is surely considered a special treat. In fact, my heart skipped a beat when I saw the delight in the faces of my two sons when they saw me with the bucket meal. Everyday when I arrive home and they hear the creaking of our gate being opened, it's their cue to stand up and meet me at the door, and help me with whatever I am holding, and to do the customary "kissing of the hand of the elderly" (sorry but I'm still resisting the term elderly).
My husband mobilized at once the small army of two teenage sons in setting up the dinner table to be able to eat the prized bucket meal while still hot. My loyal and ever gentle dog nudged my hand while I was walking towards the dinner table. He too knows that there's something special for dinner.
Dinner time for us is precious. It's the time when my sons have the opportunity to update us on how their day was. It's quite tricky, but it's also the time when I can sense if they're holding back something from me. As a mother with superior intuition, I could feel if they're up to something and having raised them up with no talent in telling lies, one look at them and they will say everything they've been wanting to say, including special requests for an increase in allowance (which is usually turned down). If there's gonna be an increase in allowance for the next day, it has to be fully justified, just like defending a theses. My sons know how hard life is. I want them to know reality, and not live in a cocoon, thinking that life is a bed of roses.
My husband, the ever supportive one, just quietly listens to all the ramblings, and sometimes making a comment or two, most specially when our conversation reaches the "current events" section of the dinner. It's his turf. My faithful dog stands beside me, with his jaw on my lap, waiting for a chicken bit from me. The bucket meal dinner lasted for about an hour. We were oblivious to the news being presented on TV. For us, that bucket meal is the "news of the day".
After dinner, again, my husband mobilized his small army to do their tasks. My younger son is usually tasked to clean up after dinner, while the elder one takes care of the dishes. Almost always, my eldest requests for exceptional approval to delay his task for one hour or more, just to watch TV. I always say yes.
But last night was different. While I was sitting in front of the computer, I glanced at my two sons who were left sitting at the dinner table. They were talking and laughing about mundane things, and this seldom happens, I honestly can say. With six years age gap, they often have differences in opinion and interests - a specific example - my youngest is thinking of becoming a priest, while my eldest wants to be a rapper. See? I must admit seeing them enjoying each other's company made me teary-eyed (cheesy me). I saw my husband and our dog in our sala, sitting cozily beside each other looking contented.
What a big difference a bucket meal for dinner can do! I think I should really put this in my workplan for next payday. I said a silent prayer that God does a miracle in my payslip so I can afford the bucket meal more often. It's a prayer that I am sure God will answer in no time at all - and perhaps with additional mashed potatoes and french fries.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Unexpected visit by an unexpected guest
One of my closest friends just lost her dad. The whole family migrated to the US just five months ago leaving behind her dad and mom, and her favorite dog. The 10 minutes that we talked on the phone seemed like one hour, during which she bawled most of the time and I could offer nothing except my full attention. Words are really not necessary at times like this. The loving comfort of a friend thousands of miles away could do a lot for someone whose heart is being torn apart by hurt. I could feel her pain and the sense of frustration that she can't do anything but accept reality. I was hurting while she was hurting.
This reality hit me hard, so very hard. At once, I thought of my own father. I said a prayer for God to still give me many years to spend with him. God, in His infinite wisdom, told me that it is perfectly all right to be worried about my father, but, it is also all right to start accepting the fact that death is inevitable for everyone.
My friend was very close to her dad. She was his shadow, everywhere her dad went, she was there. She took annual leaves from the office just to accompany her dad to his appointments. In fact, when she got the notice from the US Embassy that their papers are being processed, she felt quite sad with the thought of leaving behind her parents, aged 89 and 84 years old.
My friend, her husband and two children were living with her parents in a 2-storey townhouse in Mandaluyong City. She used to tell me that early in the morning when she hears her dad moving about in his room, she would practically grab her towel and rush to the bathroom downstairs. I was laughing hard when she told me that it takes her dad around 1o minutes to go down the flight of stairs leading to their sala, and waiting for her dad to reach the last step would mean that she's late for work. My friend and I spent a lot of time talking about how she came into this world. Her dad was working in the diplomatic community when her eldest sister was born in London, after which her dad was transfered to the USA where her brother was born. And finally, her parents relocated back to Manila where she was born. Her sister holds a UK passport, her brother a US passport, and how she made faces whenever she says that she's holding a Philippine passport. But don't get me wrong, my friend is proud to be Filipino. But this story on WHERE she was born never fails to amuse me.
Her dad was a traditional dad, he provided well for the family, watched them all grow up, get married and have families of their own. In all these years, her dad was a silent spectator of most of her joys and heartaches, never interfering in her sometimes complicated life. His constant presence in their home was like a soothing balm for my friend whose work involves dealing with humanitarian emergencies, and she was thankful every time she comes home to a place where she sees her parents up and about - reminds her of the blessing that she's living in a country that is not torn by war, or a place where disasters strike anytime of the day and take away all one's possessions and even loved ones.
With her dad now gone, my friend is still thankful that her dad passed away peacefully in his sleep. I bet he's now watching over her, with a twinkle in his eyes and wanting to tell her that she still looks beautiful in spite of bawling so much over his death, and that everything's all right in his world now. An unexpected visit to her dad by an unexpected guest, but then, the occasion is for her dad to celebrate a new life with our Creator. Cheers to my friend, Joanne! I love you!
This reality hit me hard, so very hard. At once, I thought of my own father. I said a prayer for God to still give me many years to spend with him. God, in His infinite wisdom, told me that it is perfectly all right to be worried about my father, but, it is also all right to start accepting the fact that death is inevitable for everyone.
My friend was very close to her dad. She was his shadow, everywhere her dad went, she was there. She took annual leaves from the office just to accompany her dad to his appointments. In fact, when she got the notice from the US Embassy that their papers are being processed, she felt quite sad with the thought of leaving behind her parents, aged 89 and 84 years old.
My friend, her husband and two children were living with her parents in a 2-storey townhouse in Mandaluyong City. She used to tell me that early in the morning when she hears her dad moving about in his room, she would practically grab her towel and rush to the bathroom downstairs. I was laughing hard when she told me that it takes her dad around 1o minutes to go down the flight of stairs leading to their sala, and waiting for her dad to reach the last step would mean that she's late for work. My friend and I spent a lot of time talking about how she came into this world. Her dad was working in the diplomatic community when her eldest sister was born in London, after which her dad was transfered to the USA where her brother was born. And finally, her parents relocated back to Manila where she was born. Her sister holds a UK passport, her brother a US passport, and how she made faces whenever she says that she's holding a Philippine passport. But don't get me wrong, my friend is proud to be Filipino. But this story on WHERE she was born never fails to amuse me.
Her dad was a traditional dad, he provided well for the family, watched them all grow up, get married and have families of their own. In all these years, her dad was a silent spectator of most of her joys and heartaches, never interfering in her sometimes complicated life. His constant presence in their home was like a soothing balm for my friend whose work involves dealing with humanitarian emergencies, and she was thankful every time she comes home to a place where she sees her parents up and about - reminds her of the blessing that she's living in a country that is not torn by war, or a place where disasters strike anytime of the day and take away all one's possessions and even loved ones.
With her dad now gone, my friend is still thankful that her dad passed away peacefully in his sleep. I bet he's now watching over her, with a twinkle in his eyes and wanting to tell her that she still looks beautiful in spite of bawling so much over his death, and that everything's all right in his world now. An unexpected visit to her dad by an unexpected guest, but then, the occasion is for her dad to celebrate a new life with our Creator. Cheers to my friend, Joanne! I love you!
Monday blues and my stressball
The sound of the alarm clock at 4am woke me up from a beautiful dream. I reached out for my husband, but he wasn't beside me anymore. I then remembered that he usually wakes up at 3:30am just to cook breakfast for us. Lucky me. I said a short silent prayer and went on with my routine. At past 5am, I was on my way to the office. Working in an organization that begins its office hours at 7am has its advantages. I don't experience the socalled rush hour and Manila traffic.
I usually anticipate what kind of a week I would have, but I also know that something unexpected often comes up during the week. This is the stuff that life as an international civil servant is made of. I do feel crazy sometimes and ask myself if this is what I really want. The stressball that I keep beside me with a smiley face often reminds me that I should be thankful that I am still gainfully employed. I will tell myself "Look at your stressball, even though you've pinched it thousands of times, it still gives you that smiley face". That's the right attitude. I have been tempted a lot of times to just give up and simply walk away from my job, but then, after 2 seconds, I usually change my mind and instead face the challenges head on, which I usually overcome. Afterwards I would realize things weren't as bad as I imagined them to be.
If only many of us would try to be like the "stressball", I guess our world would be much less complicated, and of course, more humane.
I usually anticipate what kind of a week I would have, but I also know that something unexpected often comes up during the week. This is the stuff that life as an international civil servant is made of. I do feel crazy sometimes and ask myself if this is what I really want. The stressball that I keep beside me with a smiley face often reminds me that I should be thankful that I am still gainfully employed. I will tell myself "Look at your stressball, even though you've pinched it thousands of times, it still gives you that smiley face". That's the right attitude. I have been tempted a lot of times to just give up and simply walk away from my job, but then, after 2 seconds, I usually change my mind and instead face the challenges head on, which I usually overcome. Afterwards I would realize things weren't as bad as I imagined them to be.
If only many of us would try to be like the "stressball", I guess our world would be much less complicated, and of course, more humane.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Reminiscing
Last night I had a nice dinner with four of my high school classmates. I haven't seen Ana for almost 31 years and it was really quite a heartwarming mini-reunion. She got married to her high school sweetheart and now have two grown-up kids, one just graduated from college, while the second one will finish in December.
Of course, with 30 years to catch up, the night was quite not enough for all five of us (Ana, Cristy, Beng, Eloy and I). We spent the night eating and later munching on different kinds of nuts that Ana generously gave us. We all wonder whatever happened to our other classmates and batchmates in high school, though we're thankful that with the wonders of technology now, many of us are able to join the yahoo group that was specifically established to update one another of whatever is happening in our current lives.
With only 24 hours a day given to us to raise kids, have a career, take care of our loved ones including our dear parents, it's a wonder that we all still look beautiful (ehem...). The years have been good to many of us, but regardless of our present status in life, it is still a wonderful thought for us to be able to establish contacts with all of our batchmates. Each one of us was part of a batch of young ones who all wore their dreams in their sleeves. Thirty one years ago, we started our journeys to college life with our dreams intact and our eyes open to all opportunities. No cellfones yet, no emails yet, no internet, no blogspots whatsoever, albeit a number of us did have landlines then (with party lines, ha, ha, ha). So I lost touch with many of them after high school.
But then, that's why the word "reminisce" exists - a mental expression retained and revived. It is our entitlement, it is our right, and it's always better to practice it with friends around. And most of all, it's for free.
Of course, with 30 years to catch up, the night was quite not enough for all five of us (Ana, Cristy, Beng, Eloy and I). We spent the night eating and later munching on different kinds of nuts that Ana generously gave us. We all wonder whatever happened to our other classmates and batchmates in high school, though we're thankful that with the wonders of technology now, many of us are able to join the yahoo group that was specifically established to update one another of whatever is happening in our current lives.
With only 24 hours a day given to us to raise kids, have a career, take care of our loved ones including our dear parents, it's a wonder that we all still look beautiful (ehem...). The years have been good to many of us, but regardless of our present status in life, it is still a wonderful thought for us to be able to establish contacts with all of our batchmates. Each one of us was part of a batch of young ones who all wore their dreams in their sleeves. Thirty one years ago, we started our journeys to college life with our dreams intact and our eyes open to all opportunities. No cellfones yet, no emails yet, no internet, no blogspots whatsoever, albeit a number of us did have landlines then (with party lines, ha, ha, ha). So I lost touch with many of them after high school.
But then, that's why the word "reminisce" exists - a mental expression retained and revived. It is our entitlement, it is our right, and it's always better to practice it with friends around. And most of all, it's for free.
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