Sto. Domingo Church

And so lately I have been finding refuge in Sto. Domingo Church.

Two days after her demise, I visited her wake with two missions--- to ensure that all of her valued things are placed in a bag to be entombed together with the coffin on the day of her burial, and to digitize photos for submission for her wake's video. Probably because there were a lot of things to do, it felt as if she were still with us. 

June 26, a highschool friend invited me to watch Rak of Aegis in PETA Theater. I asked her if she could first help me drop the two boxes of milk I solicited from workmates at Sto. Domingo Church. She agreed.

Last Sunday, June 27, was the interment of my yaya's body. My sisters and I headed to Taytay to pay our final respects to the woman who chose to stay with us even though ours is a difficult family. We waited for the tomb to be cemented and all until we left and it was already late in the afternoon when we had our lunch somewhere near Sta. Lucia East Grand Mall. Traffic was heavy so we opted to stop by a Pares canteen.

Then I commuted to Sto. Domingo Church while my sisters went straight home. Volunteers were repacking school materials for the schoolchildren of Mindoro and Zambales. I said I wouldn't be able to go because I was still hurting except I didn't tell them that I've been thinking about how a person can give so much and yet in the end she is taken for granted. But I guess something in the church was drawing me to it. 

Mass was being said when I got there but I headed straight to the toilet to relieve myself first. Then mass, where I got teary-eyed. "What is the cause of death?" the priest asks rhetorically. How apt to talk about death and sin.

After mass, I went to my favorite place, except that people was crowding the place and I couldn't enjoy the beautiful solitude I experienced days prior when the boys whom I have become fond of made me wait for 2 hours. So I just lighted 10 candles, said a quick prayer and then off to where the volunteers were repacking things.

They were just about to finish. I did help in cleaning. It was of course insubstantial and I was a bit ashamed to be there just when they were wrapping up.

Today I delivered the final box of milk. It was about to rain when I left the office and thank God it didn't end up in heavy downpour. Heavy heavy load. A kind stranger offered to carry the box for me as I climbed the stairs of the footbridge but I graciously declined and thanked him for the offer. Made me think about how poor I am at asking for help from people. I tend to just rely on myself. Probably the reason why men aren't too happy with me. Friends say I must learn how to be weak sometimes. But to that I say, I don't want to have the habit of having someone to rely onto. I'm comfortable doing things on my own. [Okaaaaaay, insert Eagles' Desperado here...]

I prayed the rosary. And the tears, how they flowed. I remember back in April last year when I attended mass all alone in the same church and it was weird and awkward to suddenly be crying. I felt all alone then. Now I cry even more, because the Light is gone now. And well, just yesterday I received the news that a dear UP prof died of cardiac arrest. He was never my prof but I met him when I went with his photojournalism class to Puerto Galera. He became an instant idol, a very very BIG man with a BIG heart and BIG talents. He's one of a kind, with his crazy sunglasses and super pout which became part of his signature look in his photos. He was someone I looked up to a lot to the point that I wanted to be like him. [And I think I'm doing a good job now... I hope.]

So I prayed for them both. Prayed hard for the eternal repose of their souls, that they may finally find peace and happiness.

And I also prayed for myself, that I may find the courage to live up to the standards I have set for myself. I know that I'm being too hard on myself but I wanted to make them proud as they watch over us from Heaven.

The Day You Went Away Forever: June 24, 2015

Exactly three months ago, you left me. I hope I don't sound like you wanted to. Nobody wanted that to happen, but it seemed to be for the best. Just how can you rest well when you are constantly worried about us, about me in particular?

Yesterday afternoon I was happily on my way to see you, to deliver a potential cure that I got from one of the organizers of a volunteer project. My patience ran out as usual while being stuck in traffic. It was past 6pm and I still was far from you.

Then my sister called to deliver the news. I was surprised not to be surprised. Thoughts ran I my head. Where did I go wrong? Guilt, that ugly feeling, crept in.

I began recounting the many opportunities I had to visit you again but I chose not to because I believed in indulging myself. Maybe I spoiled myself far too much. Two weeks ago I was in the Mountain Province. The weekdays that followed were spent with a boy whom I met there. He was going back abroad for work and requested to spend time with me. I obliged because he seems like a nice boy and there's no harm in gaining a new friend. Just this weekend, I went hiking and then attended a memorial for a great grand aunt to whom I wasn't even close to. The day before, I had my much-needed self-date and watched "Stand By Me Doraemon", something I have been looking forward to since last year.

Did you think that I forgot about you or that I completely left you for a chance to go to the US? You were part of the reason why I stayed, to give you that extra moral boost when I visit you from time to time. I don't know if it works but I hope you know that you can always count on me and on my sisters. Were you sick and tired of waiting for me since it had been more than 2 weeks since I last visited? Did you give up all hope?

The moment I found out, I couldn't even cry. I thought I was past the blaming game. But everything floods in again and I couldn't help but be angered at how things turned out because of wrong decisions. And then that sad feeling that everything is fleeting. It reminded me of what I felt back when I lost grandpa and great grandma. No tears, no cries, just plain sadness, my senses heightened that the soft breeze seemed like a warm loving embrace.

I was still lucky to have seen your final state before you were transferred to the funeral parlor. Your mouth was open. They say it means you were waiting for someone. I wondered if it was me. But I was disappointed to learn that it wasn't. You were muttering the names of your siblings, they say. I wonder if in your last dying breath you thought of me, how your little girl is gping to cope with your departure. But it doesn't matter now. I am happy that you no longer suffer now. I hope you rest in perpetual peace and bliss.

A candle for the Light

The pain is slowly sinking in as I write. It's close to 2AM and normally I would have gone off to sleep but I couldn't. I want to write this as tribute to you.

I am sorry for the times when I broke your heart. I was such a stupid selfish brat. I still am but slowly working on it. If only I could turn back time and if only I was sweeter to you, kinder, gentler... Despite all my shortcomings you have always been there. I want to thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart.

You have been a Doraemon to this stupid Nobita. I wish you will still stand by me in spirit and watch over me.

First Half of 2015

So half the year is about to end and here we are, still on the same page, still on the same boat, yet with wonderful memories of days gone by.

My 2014 yearender FB post

2014 ended with many accidental trippings on speculations about love. A prelude mayhaps to a whole new 2015. It started in December, on the day of my birthday when the Heavens directed me to a church I have always wanted to visit and yet couldn't find the time to do so. That fateful day, drifter received a special gift--- a rosary. It was a Wednesday and suddenly the priest called all birthday celebrants to come forward and receive some blessings.

I must have been close to my religious exit for this to happen. Being busy and suddenly not feeling like I were living a very fruitful life despite being quite productive as I volunteer left and right, my heart and mind knew not peace. This gift, a small rosary, now I keep in my bag as a reminder of this fateful day, a renewal of vows. Why it happened in church dedicated to St. Joseph the Worker still is a mystery to me. But maybe it's God's way of telling me to work and not just conceptualize. Do the actual thing, stop being on a standstill in fantasyland.

My 2014 birthday FB post

Coz time is running fast and we mere mortals cannot keep up. These days it's all about doing as much as we can in a short amount of time. We search for shortcuts, we attempt to do everything even if we can do without them I'm a bit guilty of those in the past but I know better now. The mountains have taught me that it's not how fast you ascend or descend, it's how you enjoy the trail, the wonderful views, the scent of the mountains (which is one of the most important reasons why I keep on going back because my olfactory senses are very much alive and partying when I'm close to nature), the company even, the rain, the cool earth, the occasional gashes and the frequent insect bites (yes, these too, my battle scars).

So here I am, still enjoying the freedom (or is it a curse?) of being single. Eagles' "Desperado" always ruins my mood, in a welcome way. "Your pain is walking through this world all alone". Some random romantic shit but what the hell, when I ponder on this, I wonder if I will be able to settle? Loving requires giving a part of yourself and taking something in return, connoting change. And therein lies my biggest fear. I've been alone for as long as I could remember. Alone because I have been viewed as different by the people around me. It almost destroyed me but I guess I love myself too much to ever let any external force force its way into my system. So no thanks, I'm perfectly happy with who I am. But oooops life can get lonely from there.

Or maybe the fates are talking a different kind of love. Love for humanity, love for nature, love for excellence... (Okaaaaay my excuses again to evade romantic possibilities.)

Credit: Dino Dimar of White Canvas Org

Except that the recent volunteer trip to the Mountain Province brought me close to a group of like-minded fellows. The project was Akyat, Aklat, Pasasalamat, joined by some of the survivors of the Florida bus accident last February 7, 2014. (They are a marvelous group. It's hard to see their struggles because of their very bright smiles and cheerful disposition. I'm lucky to have met them!) With peeps from Black Pencil Project and White Canvas Org, I discovered I can be my whole self with no pretensions. We understand each other in our quests for social justice, for the rejuvenation of Mother Nature, for heightened spirituality. It all started in Mindoro last May, right after the mapping project when the soul of this poor corporate slave/ hardcore volunteer was in dire need to reconnect with the Spirits of Nature. And then the Domino Effect. One thing leads to another.

And now I'm seeing the Wheel again. How far can I go without turning back? I've successfully completed the requirements for the mapping project, even going beyond the minimum requirements. Must be the passion. Because once you start it's hard to stop.

I have that person whom I met in Mindoro to thank for for making me go through this painful but wonderful situation. I can sense very strongly that it's my time to grow up and shed my childish self in preparation for a big role that I have only a bleak idea about. But like what his clairvoyant friend told me, "Don't worry. Yours is not sharp intelligence. Yours is nurturing, pure, not meant to attack but to protect." Of course he speaks in riddles I couldn't quite grasp it since I know myself to be unable to love. It reminded me of the kokology game two acquaintances played with me and the result was that I am a guardian. How can you protect if you don't know how to love? To which he replied, "Take courage. Take courage for your heart. Take courage to love." So much for being perceived as courageous by my friends. Ah well I always tell them I can withstand any physical pain but probably not emotional wounds. "Crying doesn't mean cowardice and weakness." He must have seen through the inner turmoil inside of me caused by my preoccupation with the slow fading of the Light.

And then echoes of a friend's words, "To love is to be vulnerable." to which I always quip, "To love is to be invulnerable. :P" And inside of me, "To love is to be both vulnerable and invulnerable."

Makes me think so hard. Don't know if the role suits me well but let's see.

Wheels again. Sigh.

Things to do:

1. Write about the current plight of the IP

2. Take responsibility for a fundraising campaign

3. Update this blog and write about my many adventures (BIG backlog since 2014 and net is down...)

4. Finish the two books I have been reading and use them as background for articles on protecting the environment and restoring the dignity of the minorities

5. Sweat. (coz I'm getting fat already.)

My subconscious must have sensed these events. Above is my FB post 5 days before my Mindoro trip which contributed to the gradual changing of my life.

"Be broken, then be fixed and be made whole again." (to quote myself!) The survivors did a great job. Will I?