Remembering the Light 001

Earlier this month my sisters and I agreed to attend the 5AM mass at Sto. Domingo Church for the Light's 100 days. Since the Light's demise, I could feel that the bond we three share became strong. Even without words, even though I am not comfortable crying in front of them, there seems to be some unspoken understanding that exists among us, that we were lucky to be at the receiving end of her goodness and generosity. And with that comes the unspoken grief and sorrow that each one of us holds in our hearts. 

While having lunch in Binmaley last week, I instinctively took out two pieces of bukayo and kept them in my bag. Out of habit I have been doing this since I was young to have something for the Light. Whenever I could I would bring her simple treats especially those which I enjoyed in my travels.

Those two pieces were left almost forgotten in my bag and in the office while looking for a pen in my messy bag, I chanced upon those two and reflected on how some habits are hard to break.

I think back on the day I came back from Mexico, bringing chocolates and biscuits. But my favorite person in the world was no longer there to greet me. The only person who took joy in listening to my travel stories is now gone. 

Once while on the way to work, I thought of her. I was a mere five minutes from the gate and tears were forming in my eyes. It was painful having to suppress the sadness. I had to force silly thoughts in my mind, it's like gulping down your favorite drink while having alcohol on your wounds.

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.

Warrior

Back in highschool, when I started to attend a Born Again Christian Bible study group despite being a Catholic (an erstwhile devout Catholic whose faith was beginning to crumble), the Pastor told us what type of person we were. He labelled me as a warrior, seeing that I defend my ideas to the end. Back then I couldn't accept that label because I saw myself more as a healer than as a warrior. Reason for this is my dislike for conflict and because I have always assumed a neutral post, never taking sides and being thoroughly objective (as I could) with people.

But now I am beginning to think that he might be right. It wold be doing a great disservice to warriors when we think of them only as bloodthirsty warfreaks. Later on in my life, I learned what being a true warrior is, like a samurai or a knight, defender of the oppressed, voice of the voiceless, a helping hand to the needy, defender of the noble principles of truth and justice. Bit by bit, I saw my life going toward that direction, shedding the ego that once imprisoned me and which almost sent me down the abyss had not the light of my life saved me from that darkness inside of me.

Not that the darkness was completely purged, but I can say that I have come to control it better nowadays, resulting in relatively happier days. Except now that the light of my life is slowly fading down the horizon, the child warrior is at risk to be lost once again. I hope not. Memories will live on and will be the main guide to the shining path. Beautiful memories of warmth, love, affection...

Yesterday I finally did visit her, bringing with her a juicer/ blender because I heard she refused to eat. I was happy when she called me by my name, the name which I so despised since childhood. Still hearing her call my name made me glad. She must be surprised to find my at the doorstep, knowing that I am too busy with many things. That much is true but I know that if I do not savor the remaining time that we have, I will regret it for the rest of my life. I've lived in guilt for almost every single day of my life and it was sheer torture. The best I can do now is to prevent the same thing from happening again.

Yes, I am not afraid to say that I think her time on earth is already running out. Cancer has quickly spread all throughout her body. She will be undergoing her chemotherapy but before that happens, I would want to make sure that her body is ready for it. Yet the way I see it now, it cannot stand chemotherapy. 

But I want to hope for a miracle. I've changed my name hoping to be a miracle unto others. I want to at least be a miracle to the light of my life. I still pray for courage and strength. God knows how hard I pray these days.

Now I understood another aspect of being a warrior. The warrior fights for a loved one, she fights even knowing that there is little chance in winning. She fights because she knows the value of what she's fighting for.

______________________

I have pledged to seriously save money and stop traveling for now, just to ensure that I will have the necessary resources to keep the chemotherapy sessions going. I have been on the lookout for sidelines, too, for additional income. I have my own dreams but those can wait. 

An Open Letter to the Light of My Life

It's been a long time since we last had a long chat. These days we seem to try to catch up on each other early in the morning before I leave for work. I would always ask how you are doing even though I know the answer. You would always look at me, your eyes forlorn, your current fragile state breaking my heart to pieces. It's not easy for me to watch you go weak with each passing day; I have been used to seeing you wake up each morning earlier than anybody else, with that load of energy despite your age. I often wondered where you got that strength that allowed you to do numerous tasks without complaint.

Consecutive trips enriched my life, but it also made me poorer in understanding you. One day I was shocked to come back seeing you emaciated, your eyes no longer alert and shining. Words cannot describe how I feel. You seem lifeless, purposeless, friendless. You wouldn't eat, you refuse to listen when we repeatedly tell you to go to the doctor. You, who used to be strong as a bull, cannot even walk properly now.

I fear for what the future holds in store for us. Throughout my life, you were there. You saw me through my darkest, most bitter periods in my life. When blood and kin sought to hurt me, you were my sole comfort. You were the one who taught me early in my life, even with waves of rejection, coldness, cruelty, and all the challenges that come my way, are nothing if I put my faith in God. You sought to understand me, even in my most pitiful egocentric bitter state. Many would claim to know me but it is only you who always defended me from backstabbers, you the only one who testified to my goodness. It was grace. Perhaps we were meant to meet in this lifetime, because your faith in me changed me. I had a taste of grace because of your goodness and to this time it inspires me to be a better, not bitter, person.

This last weekend, I could have continued to do my volunteer work while in Pangasinan. We passed by Manaoag and I changed my mind and decided to stay inside the church to hear mass and to say a little prayer for you. I knownthat you'd be happy to learn that your little girl is back to going down on her knees with pleas to the Heavens, this time not for me but for you. Today after work, I found myself walking towards that church where I got a rosary last year on my birthday, as if my legs had life of their own. So I brought out my rosary and prayed the sorrowful mystery. How apt, when the two of us are in agony, you physically and me emotionally.

I am not prepared for this. But I guess your little girl will have to grow up now. Coming back home, finding you not there to welcome me has given me of a glimpse of a possibility I do not want to consider. Home feels cold, dark, awful without you.

Tears cannot stop flowing now as I write. Please do not leave me alone.

From Multiply 011: A Prayer for a Change

"Prayer is an ineffable act. It does not claim to be anything, but it can do everything."

Paul Sedir

Martinist Order and Synarchy

Why do I pray? Having come from a non-sectarian high school where most of my classmates are atheists, I was often confronted by this question. I would always answer nonchalantly that the reason is because it helps me a lot. Otherwise, I wouldn't bother to pray.

Many people get this impression that a person prays only when in dire need of divine assistance. If a man is beset with a series of unfortunate events, the one thing he's sure to do is to pray to God for a miracle that would straighten out his life. For me, however, praying is more than asking God to lift you up when you're in deep water. For me, praying makes me learn things I don't get to learn within the four corners of a classroom.

So, why do I pray?

I pray because it's the only thing I can do aside from watching the sceneries while onboard the jeepney. Gazing out at the healthy leaves of trees glistening in the sunlight on sunny days, the slowly floating puffy fluffy clouds on cloudy days, the soft downpour from the heavens on rainy days and other seemingly common scenes make me admire nature more. I can't help but be awed at God's wonderful creations, and I just have to send a prayer of gratitude. I learn to appreciate the small things in life.

I pray because I care for others, most especially, the streetchildren who have to struggle for survival when they should be in school, mapping out their future. More often than not, they are ignored and at times, considered as non-existent in the eyes of passersby. When I have spare change, I give some to them so they can buy food. The least I can do is pray to God and ask Him to somehow alleviate their poor condition. i learn to be more compassionate especially with the poor.

I pray because it drives away the loneliness in me. When I pray, I not only get to talk to God, i also get to know myself more as i contemplate on the things I have prayed for.

I pray because praying gives me a sense of comfort and assurance that I should not fear. The phrase " Do not be afraid" appears 365 times in the Bible, giving enough assurance to anyone who seeks God that everyday in our life, we can be alright because he is always there for us. I learn to trust and believe.

I pray because it offers me a new kind of strength that would make me steadfast in my beliefs even though people may criticize me for believing in the "unprovable". I learn to be strong in the midst of temptations to deny my faith.

I pray because I want God to shepherd me to the right path, so that I may be able to acquire "a pair of hind's feet" to climb up the steep "high places" like in the Book of Habakkuk. Free will can, at times, cause one to take pride in himself and sin against God. I learn to be humble and to submit to God's will.

I pray because it motivates me to do good things for others. As I praise and glorify God in my prayers, I realize I must do something for God's glory. I learn to live an upright life for God.

 Like any other humans, I also pray for divine assistance, especially after doing everything I could, and yet things don't turn out the way I expect it to be. Humans are desperate, thus, they turn to god for a surefire way to make things better. It's not always that we can do everything on our own. Hardwork, coupled with faith in God, can spell a big difference. I learn to accept my limitations as a mere human being who is incapable of doing everything without the help of the Divine. I also learn to acknowledge God as the only perfect being in the universe.

I have left out, however, the most important reason why I pray. To bring about change in this materialistic, corrupted, and perverse world of ours.

Everyone prays for a "perfect world" -one devoid of sin and vice, a world where war, famine, poverty, strife and discrimination are non-existent. But not everyone does his share to make this a dream come true. In order to bring about change on a large scale, change must first occur within an individual. I believe that if everyone changes for the better, surely, the world will also change for the better.

Comparing myself from the past to the present me, I have certainly changed a lot. From being a self-centered, insolent fool that I was who used to dwell in dark cocoons, I have broken free of my prison and emerged as a butterfly which bathes in the beauty of sunlight.

I have undergone changes within myself. Still, I do not consider myself perfect, because nobody really is perfect. It is a cliché to state that, but it is the truth. I still commit sins, consciously or not. But I find it in my heart the will to change and I stick to the belief that prayers would really help me gradually change into a better person. And I hope it would be the same for everyone, too.



Feb 20, '08 5:28 AM
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