everyday christmas

Since her birthday is also on Christmas Day, it feels like every day is also her birthday the whole month of December. Yey!

dear ma

Just a few words: Christmas Day is always exceptional because of you, and what I want for Christmas is to have more Christmas Days with you—stronger, healthier, happier—so we could travel together more to places you have not traveled to in your prime.

Happy birthday, Ma, and I love you.

happy birthday, mother dear

Yesterday, December 25, may just be another day to be merry with complete abandon for some, but in this household the 25th of the 12th month of the year means something more. Probably even more than any other celebrations out there.

Because December 25 is also the birthday of my mother, the person who I always wish to become but staggeringly fail. But despite these drawbacks, both big and small, she accepts them, rises above them with grace and generosity. That is why it is easy never not to love her.

Happy birthday, Ma! And Merry Christmas!

happy ma's day

I grew up knowing a mother can do everything, anything. And up to this day, that thought never changes. At least when it comes to you, Ma. You are prone to tears with the teleseryes you follow, you can be hurt with the words, you are very human. But you are also that someone who’s closest to the manifestation of a miracle—how you can be strong when everything around you seems to crumble, how you can be kind in the face of cruelty and confusion, how you can whip up something out of nothing.

Sometimes, in the most difficult of times, I’d think I do not deserve such grace, but in every moment of each day with you, you always make me feel otherwise. So thank you, thank you, thank you… There is not enough “thank you’s” or “I love you’s” to wrap in one embrace all of the effort and sacrifices you’ve made for me and this family, but I will try. That is a promise. Happy Mother’s Day, Ma. I love you, always, clear as sunlight.

happy international women's day!

Happy International Women's Day to my lady friends, relatives, and especially to my mother and sisters (even if we are supposed to celebrate womanhood all throughout the year, on equal measure with the opposite sex, of course)! Last night, just before this day of commemoration, a thought struck me: I can finally confirm that men—no matter how macho and dignified they would like to be in front of a crowd—are almost always afraid of confident, strong, and intelligent women. Especially those who carry them with grace and decency. Keep it up, girls. You are beyond inspiration, and you never fail to amaze me. We need more of you in this time of hyper-toxic masculinity. Love lots.

on mother's day

In times like this, when the seas are rough and the waves keep rocking your boat, you need to keep calm and trust on your anchor. And for several years, this woman remains to be my reliable anchor. Happy Mother's Day, Ma! No words can define my love for you, not just on this day but always. All the time.

*

Today is Mother's Day. I know, it is another capitalist concept embraced by many. But it is good to remind ourselves that we celebrate the strength, love, and wisdom shared to us by our mothers. Outside our homes, the closest we could get to another mother is our teachers, from pre-school to tertiary education. I am lucky enough that I have a mother who is also a public high school teacher. Whether these teachers are men or women, they are still our mothers in the sense that they nurture us with the knowledge we need to face the realities of the world. But as I face the strange reality of this country today, some questions come into mind: How much knowledge and wisdom did our teacher-mothers actually instill in their children today and in the past? Have they taught these children the history that shapes the present? Have they taught these children to be critical and not be swayed by lies and fabricated stories? Have they shared the reality as it is? For all the teachers in this lifetime who have prepared me to this day, especially on this day before the elections, I am so much thankful. Your guidance, truthfulness, and courage to teach the truth and reality are an inspiration. To the rest of the teachers out there, persist, be honest, and teach well. Don't fail the future generation. It is the bravest job in the world.

battle hymn of the tiger mother by amy chua

Forget the increasing uncertainty of the Westerns’ decline from the top spot relating to all things that need ranking—economy, technology, happiness or whatever—as what many reports buzz in all forms of media right now, following the release of Amy Chua’s memoir “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.” It has sparked a lot of debate but the author is only concerned with one thing: her kids’ future.

I have not read the book yet but the hullabaloo surrounding it is a giveaway of what the Tiger Mom is all about. To mention Chua’s treatment on raising her children with endless piano and violin practices, threat of stuffed toy burning, or zero sleepovers is not enough to raise anyone’s doubtful and appalled eyebrows. It is much more than those actually.

After reading this, this, and this, I know Chua has her reasons of what must be done to what, and we are just here bombarded with our own speculations if we are raised the right way or not. But when does it cross the line? Is there a line between “extreme” and “completely fine” at all? Did you just wish you had a tiger mom?

Child rearing is simply a tricky issue, and the more it becomes complicated the more it is brought up in every household. And Chua is just one of the millions.

for mother

A mother is a desert,
the sway of her hips
the changing hills of sand,
as days rise and fall,
curves shift from slopes to dunes,
sometimes warm,
sometimes parched;

a mother is a desert,
vast,
embracing,
cupping an oasis
no mirage
can ever fool.
May 09/10 (10:59am)


No one could carry so much love other than a mother.

This isn’t exactly an argument on which role of parenthood does best, since this will only beat the bush like determining which comes first, the hen or the egg. The very bottom line of that premise is this:

Our mothers bring us all into this world. Just imagine such responsibility.

That is why in as early as the days of ancient Greece mothers are esteemed in highest regards, festivals being commemorated for her. Through time, the importance of a mother finally finds its day of celebration indelibly marked on the second Sunday of May in almost all calendars across the globe.

But being a mother is no easy job. Aside from giving up her curves, she endures all forms of pain from the birthing of a child to the last aching sight of a grocery list. The coming and going of her children must also be one of the most trying times in her life, but like everything else, she handles this with grace and endurance. Beyond the usual façade of vulnerability is a character of strong will.

Whether this day does or doesn’t have any special bearing to some people, there’s no denying that there are many days for men and about men, accounting to the numerous holidays of our heroes and won wars. That’s why on this day, let us show our gratitude to our mothers for bringing us into this world, for giving us a chance to love them the way they love us through the years.

To all mothers, mommies, mamas, and nanays, thank you.

an attempt to avoid dormancy

Just look at that. Since when have I posted a decent post here? I can’t even remember. It would even be more confusing if I define what “decent” is in the context of the blogosphere. Due to the reality that I am finally one of the million of employees working like machines, it is hard to find some time to write. I can ever consider myself lucky right now I am able to come up this. Here are some posts for lost writing time of events.

Anniversary. My mother and father have just celebrated their 40th Wedding Anniversary last August 1, Saturday in the afternoon, at Villa Alzhun, Dauis, Bohol (even if the actual anniversary date is on the third). This Ruby anniversary is just one of the seldom seen testaments that there are things lovely and touching—and hopefully, things that would last. To the Higher Being, bless this family.

Work. As what I have said earlier, I am a working citizen now, paying taxes that even the genius Albert Einstein could not comprehend in his lifetime. The first week of the job is pretty unhurried, nicely slow an understatement, but I know my bosses’ smiles and words of encouragement would not last. I know that being absent on the first day of the job is not a plus factor to my records. I know that someday I will pull every strand of my hair and shout, “Heck! I can juggle but I am no magician!”

Absurdity. I still have a bit of time to write something else so I have included here mundane undertakings a fool would puke if he would know. Because I work in a company that’s slightly above call-center and advertising corporate-look standards, I cut my hair. But because I know I will not be comfortable with how everything looks the same (and smiles the same) with each other, I add another ear piercing. Maybe next time I will wear my faux diamonds. Oh, by the way, my upper set of teeth is in retainers already. Absurd, enough? Tell me.

yes, children

In my current days living with my sister’s children 24/7, it is not hard for some bits of their discussions to drift into my ears. But their talks are no mere silly talk, they’re something else. If every little child in the world is like the following kid, I am better off in another planet.

Mother: Why are you crying?
Son: My spider died. Josh’s spider killed my spider in the battle.
Mother: It’s like that. We have to accept that some things are better than yours.
Son: No, I don’t like to play anymore.
Mother: Let’s just find a better spider.
Son: No. I don’t like spider battle anymore. And Josh is bullying me.
Mother: That’s not right… But it’s alright to lose. We do not win at all times.
Son: If I will play spider battle, let’s buy a tarantula mum so that all Josh’s spider will lose.
(whoa, now the problem’s settled!)


o o o


Father: Someday we will be rich.
Son: If we will be very rich dad let’s give money to the poor.
Father: That’s a good idea!
Son: But I don’t like to be very rich dad because it makes people’s heads very big.
Father: Yes, you’re right. Very good!
Son: Let’s just be in the middle of rich… and very rich, dad.
(the kid’s got the right economics in his head)