One will never know how much a person means until that very person is taken from us forever. Wilma, was my 'kumare.' I am the godmother of her firstborn. We were neighbors for at least 10 years, spent Christmas and New Year together, ate together when we needed to, shared our food, our homes, had fun, went places, shopped, ate and ate and told endless stories - all except that one story I'm waiting to hear. I guess I'll never get to hear it after all. Wilma was born on August 2, 1983 and passed away at the age of 32, on August 22, 2015.
Wilma,
I don't know how to say this...but you were just gone too soon, my friend. I'm waving at you up there. At least that's my belief. Mornings are difficult. Passing by Pan De Manila or a bakery with pandesal is extremely saddening. You were never too fond of pandesal but somehow, that was the one thing you bought anytime you or your kids were hungry. I will always remember you when I pass by any bakery. The morning sun will never be the same too. I always feel tears ready to fall when I think of you just soaking up the morning sun whenever you could. That's what you liked.
Sobrang hirap tanggapin ang pagkawala mo. Baka kasi super bata ka pa and super bigla. Wala ka man lng nasabi sa amin ni Jessa tungkol sa mga nararamdaman mo. Bakit? Alam ko hirap kayo sa pera pero sana naisip mo rin ang tatlo mong anak. Ang hirap isipin na wala ka na. I guess, you're looking and watching over them from up above. Bakit? Why? That's always what I ask myself when I try to make sense of what happened. One week ago, you were taken from us so suddenly. Kami yung nagmamahal sayo. I don't regret na di kita nakita simula na nagkasakit ka. Alam mo yan. Alam ko di ka makikinig sa akin na magpadala sa ospital. Pero kung ako yung asawa mo...sa ayaw't sa gusto mo - I'd bring you. I always think that if you were brought to the hospital earlier, you probably would still be alive today.
There are so many things that've crossed my mind. Ayoko mag-isip ng masama sa asawa mo. Kilala mo ako. Sabihin mo na lng na medjo idealistic pa ako hanggang ngayon - kahit ang tanda ko na. Pero ganun talaga. I've always believed in the best of everyone.
Diba kakakwento mo lng sa akin nung August 17. Last na kwento mo na pala yun. Alam mo yan. Your stories about your kids have always made me happy. Kahit sabihin ng iba corny. Kahit di ko naman talaga sila kadugo - you made me happy. You always made me happy with stories about them. Parang mga anak ko na rin sila.
I don't know what's going to happen to them now. I feel frustrated because I feel that you were hiding something from us. I remember the times that you came up to my unit and it always looked like you wanted to tell me something but stopped yourself short. I'll never know why but who knows. The truth will always have a way of revealing itself. Were you being hurt? How did you live each day in pain? Did you? Sigh...I hope you show up in my dreams one day and let me know what you were going through. For now, it's all a guessing game. Jessa is traumatized. I feel for her. I know that all I have to do is to be there for her.
Watch over us, okay.
Bye for now.
Marie
Friday, August 28, 2015
Monday, June 8, 2015
Thoughts
Yesterday on the bus to the office, I sat thinking how the
previous weekend went. How crazy I was,
my friends told me, to have traveled alone to a place 5 hours away just
because I couldn’t bear to be in traffic while trying to get on a bus heading
towards the Metro. Instead, I hopped on
another bus going to Baguio, spent hours staring out at the rice paddies, the
small houses that we would pass by from time to time, the herds that were out
grazing. It was a crazy weekend
indeed. But I needed that quiet, my
alone time to just step back and re-think about my purpose in life.
I wrote the other week about my purpose in this life. I’m beginning to realize that that purpose
will never come about if I don’t live my life with some purpose in mind. What do I hope to accomplish? As always, one of the things I learned from
my 7 Habits of Highly Effective People session, was that we all need to live
each day as if it were our last. It
seems dire – like some kind of doomsday decree.
The speaker went on to add that if were to have people write on our tombstone,
what would we want to see. That just
gets to me every time I think of it.
There’s nothing like being surrounded by
peace and quiet. Even the occasional
yells of the bus conductor fell on deaf ears.
So immersed was I in my thoughts. I started to ask myself how different
I was now from then. I like the changes
but I still need a lot of room to learn and improve.
It took me 25 years to learn a lot of things and I am still
learning.
I learned that sometimes, I’d have to really see for myself
and learn that we have people who wouldn’t care less about me and other people
who’d genuinely care. A number of people
who do aren’t even related to me in blood.
When I left home at 21, my parents told me that I’d probably not meet
people who were as kind and as understanding as they were. They were right. I met people who were kinder and even more
understanding, who really saw to it that I lived my life as I should, who gave
praise where praise was due and admonishments when necessary. There were no shortcuts, no sugar-coated words
– just the plain and ugly truth of me being too proud, too stubborn, too
haughty, too weak, too quiet, too unsociable, too laid back. I was too many of many other things. I cried and thought I wasn’t worthy to even
live, but then when I came to my senses – I realized that all those words hurt
because they were true. They didn’t stop there.
They advised, they prodded, they praised, they admonished (yet again), and
encouraged me to be the best person I could be.
I am still living short of their expectations. The struggle is real.
I learned that the world doesn’t always revolve around
me. In fact, there are only a few people
who really know me – a handful at best.
All the others think they know me, but that’s for me to know and them to
find out. When I thought my parents were
too strict (and they were) because I was never allowed to go to soirees or to
any overnight pajama party, I called one of my sisters-in-law and we would talk
until 2AM. I didn’t talk to my sister or
brothers. I called her up (it was during
those times when we didn’t have cellphones).
We called people to talk to them instead of texting. Thank God for in-laws who care. If not for her, I would have gone crazy and
would probably have remained melancholy for the rest of my life.
I learned that no matter how hard I may have been hurt, that
I can rise above all of it, not by trying my hardest to forget and pushing the
hurtful memories into a dark corner of my mind but by actually remembering and
facing my fears about it, talking about it, sharing it with others who care and
who’d listen with their hearts. When I
first left Caryana, my parents only gave me a very short time to talk about my
life there and weren’t really interested in the details. I was hurt about that fact but I remained
quiet and conceded to whatever they wanted for me (I tried at times). A few weeks after the great escape, I was in
school. So I had to put all that aside,
and concentrate on conquering life – which was school and people, learning a
new language (Tagalog) and taking new classes.
I loved school but I had such a difficult time getting to know people
because they didn’t understand what I said.
At the time, I felt crushed when some girls would laugh in my face
whenever I said something in English.
They looked at me like I was an alien and even asked where I came from,
how come I was a Filipino but didn’t know how to speak Tagalog. I took this
rejection hard. There were only a
handful of people who took to me and accepted me for what I am maybe because we
had a few things in common like the love for books. Sometimes, children can be quite hard on
other children but then if we know just how innocent and how straightforward
children are, it makes me understand the situation even more. What’s sad is that I’m looking back only now,
after so many years – trying to look at things in a different light. But at least there were a few precious ones
who cared to listen back then. People
with listening hearts are rare, but they do exist.
In the most difficult moments of my life, I’ve realized that
whether I wanted it or not, I had to accept that my friends were not going to
be with me 24/7 (even if they said so).
But they always meant well whenever they said they’d be there for
me. Even if I wanted time to stand
still, the earth to stop rotating on its axis – it just wasn’t going to
happen. Life went on, my friends had
their own lives to live, they had their own things to do. They could stop and listen only after they
were done with all the things that they needed to do but not before then. How I cursed them and thought they were selfish. Now that I find myself in the same situation,
I can all but put my hands up begging for a little patience and a little
understanding – that things are easier said than done; that even if I want
something to be done, sometimes, it does take 2 or 3 or even more to
tango. I look back at those times and
can’t help but smile a bit and be sad a bit too at how I needed to be creative
to survive.
I learned that alone time doesn’t need to be scary after
all. In fact, it’s when I can think
best, I can just be me – with no masks and no fears. I think I scared myself even more than others
did. Alone time can be good because strength can also be gained from my inner
self. My strongest supporter will be
me.
I learned that sometimes my fear in so many things, in many
people, in circumstances that could’ve happened may have been borne out of past
experiences, but it’s something I have to face.
I am still working on facing them.
I learned that when I really am desperate, I need to let
people know that I need help too. I’m trying to dig deep to find out why I
always thought that needing help was a form of weakness. I can’t put my finger on it to determine when
it even started. Nevertheless, a helping
hand is always good to have. I’ve
grabbed on to many a helping hand – for food, for shelter, for acceptance, for someone
to unburden my pains to. I also found
that the people who lend a hand and listen with their hearts don’t ever demand
anything back except that you do the same for someone else. It’s an unwritten promise and something I’d
like to keep.
I learned that when I have children (and I’m still hoping),
I need to listen with my heart. Children
feel, listen, learn and remember whatever we, grown-ups say or do. It’s imprinted in their minds forever just
like mine was. I never ever want my
future children to feel that they’re too young or they’re not smart enough to
understand what’s happening around them.
Sometimes, words don’t really say it all. Feelings and actions do. I want them to know
that even if they may be too young to make their own choices, they can
always start from the little things – simple things such as choosing between
ice-cream and cake, choosing what to wear, where to go, or what hair piece to
wear; that whatever choice they make, I don’t have to stop it but I can improve
on it and give them my opinion too. I’ve
learned to be careful of what I say and not keep thinking that children move on
from hurt a lot more quickly than grown-ups do.
They do, because they live in the here and now. There is no point in going back to the past
nor do they look too far into the future.
What’s important for them is NOW.
So today, I am thankful that I am able to get up every
single day; that the entire day may be rough but that I will never know every
detail until I live each second and each minute of that day until the entire
day has transpired.
I’ve learned that when I do something wrong, the world isn’t
going to end. I just have to accept it
and learn from it. As the saying goes, “pride goeth before the fall.” It’s happened time and time again and I’ve
gained nothing from it but pain. So this
is what’s important. I can’t be perfect
and I can’t expect others to be perfect as well. I can blame no one except myself for the
choices that I’ve made.
Most of all, I’ve learned that I have to put in a lot of
effort to help myself. People can help
out. But if I don’t want to be helped,
it won’t mean a thing. So I’ve got to
start with something simple – something I’d like people to remember me by. Life is short and I’ve got to make the most
out of it. I’ve survived a lot and I can
continue to survive. Survive and live
life!
Sunday, May 24, 2015
My Journey to Freedom: That Last Leap
It took me about a week just to plan where to go and what to
do. The only plan was to get out. I didn’t know what was waiting on the other
side to tell you the truth, because so much of the planning was set on how to just
get over the wall. Below is a picture of
the place I escaped from 25 years ago.
Well, almost but not quite. 25
years ago, the only thing that stood there was the house that was newly
built. There were no trees and the place
had very little grass. It was mostly hot
sand/soil and a few stones here and there.
Prior to that night, I had also planned to escape - obviously those attempts and plans were unsuccessful. But for that one week, I was willing to risk everything just to get out of
there or have Mona take charge of us and the kids we were caring for again. There was no way I was going to go through all that pain she dealt us over and over again nor be witness to how she dealt with the kids. The week before she came, I took
the keys from one of the rooms I was staying in, and walked towards the gates
with my back leaning on the wall. I
needed a bit of stealth. For a 13 year
old girl who was barely 5 feet, the gates looked huge at the time. Even the padlocks were quite heavy and
turning the keys in them took a lot of effort.
It was also noisy – too noisy. Each time, I tried test-opening the
padlocks, the very sound would ring in my ears.
I always thought I’d be caught there and then. Luckily, no one came. I practiced thrice. Each time, was unsuccessful. The only way out then was to go over the wall.
I was even luckier because one of the workers who was
assigned to the place had left his home-made scaffolding. How I prayed that he wouldn’t move it to
another section of the wall it was against.
It was situated near my room and would be hidden in the dark when I made
my escape. On the day that I left, I would peek out ever so often to ensure
that it was still there. Mona arrived that night. I obviously wasn't excited to see her. The scaffolding was exactly where I needed it to be and I felt like it
was a good sign for me to leave.
I wanted to leave early because I didn't want to have anything else to do with Mona. I packed a small bag with whatever
presentable clothes I had – which wasn’t much. When I reached the top, that’s
when I finally realized that I didn’t even take into consideration the barb
wires that would be on there. Plus, I
realized then and there how foolish I was that I didn’t even think about what I
would be landing on. Would I land on
grass, on water, in a pit, or on concrete?
I had no idea and I only had a few more minutes to decide. I just knew there was no way I was getting
back down. My heart was beating wildly,
the blood rushing through my ears. I felt
that everyone in the building would hear it.
I felt light-headed. The barb
wires were stuck to my clothes and I couldn’t really figure out how to get to
the other side of that wall without hurting myself. The
only option I had was to hold on to it.
I couldn’t leave my clothes or else I’d have no change of clothing. After a few minutes, I decided to take the
risk and just grab on to it. It hurt but
I thought back then that the pain would be all worth it. And it was.
For every barb that stuck to my clothes, that scratched and ripped the
skin of my hands – my freedom was definitely all worth it. The only things I have left to remember that
ordeal with is the scar from one hand that isn’t very visible but it’s there to
remind me that before happiness – sometimes, pain is the only thing that paves
the way for us to treasure it even more - I also have my memories.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Gadgets or Human Interaction?
"At the beginning of life, symbiosis is of prime, positive importance to both sexes. It begins as a growth process, freeing the infant of the fear of being vulnerable and alone, giving her the courage to develop. If we get enough symbiosis in the beginning, we will later remember its pleasures and be able to look for it in others; to accept and immerse ourselves in it when we find it, and move out of it again when we are sated, knowing that we will always be able to re-establish it. We will trust and enjoy love, take it as part of life's feast - not feel we must devour every crumb because it may never come again."
My Mother/Myself
by Nancy Friday
I often re-read this when I feel like just having my own space or on the other side of the spectrum, become too dependent on another's company for my own pleasure. The search for a real and true relationship is a struggle. In this day and age, conversations at the dinner table, or conversations with friends have been exchanged for entertainment that could be had with technological gadgets.
Facebook, the iPads, the Android phones, and tablets etc. are good to use for a time. But it could get addicting. I am guilty of this and so I know how it feels. I am worried that our younger generation grow up with a world of their own. Their friends are avatars or icons on their gadgets and they miss out on a lot of the human interaction, the need to socialize, the need to talk, the need to commune. It's a scary thought.
Sometimes, I feel a bit paranoid just thinking ahead to what could possibly be our future. There's a good side to technology and there are definitely cons to it. The absence of the warmth of a friend's voice or the feeling of safety and security that comes with a hug is altogether missing nowadays. There is no telling what would happen with the sudden absence of these gadgets - would all be as it should be? It's a possibility but then as the latter part of the quote indicates, it could also turn into a situation where too much of what we want is also a bad thing.
My Mother/Myself
by Nancy Friday
I often re-read this when I feel like just having my own space or on the other side of the spectrum, become too dependent on another's company for my own pleasure. The search for a real and true relationship is a struggle. In this day and age, conversations at the dinner table, or conversations with friends have been exchanged for entertainment that could be had with technological gadgets.
Facebook, the iPads, the Android phones, and tablets etc. are good to use for a time. But it could get addicting. I am guilty of this and so I know how it feels. I am worried that our younger generation grow up with a world of their own. Their friends are avatars or icons on their gadgets and they miss out on a lot of the human interaction, the need to socialize, the need to talk, the need to commune. It's a scary thought.
Sometimes, I feel a bit paranoid just thinking ahead to what could possibly be our future. There's a good side to technology and there are definitely cons to it. The absence of the warmth of a friend's voice or the feeling of safety and security that comes with a hug is altogether missing nowadays. There is no telling what would happen with the sudden absence of these gadgets - would all be as it should be? It's a possibility but then as the latter part of the quote indicates, it could also turn into a situation where too much of what we want is also a bad thing.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Muffin Mist - Part 1
Muffin Mist you came to me at 2 months old. You were the smallest of the litter, had a
very shot tail and looked like you just didn't belong. But guess what? I had my eyes glued on
you. I petted your siblings but you were
the one I picked up and held close to me.
Like all dogs that were and are with me, your first kiss left an imprint
on my heart and there it will stay until we part ways and find ourselves at
Heaven’s doors. You are about 3 years
old in man’s years now. I guess it’s
about time I write.
Every time I read about pets and what not, it’s either I
laugh because the stories are funny or I cry because the stories are sad. I guess your story would be both happy and
sad.
I’m the only human that will ever, ever love you for just
being you. No one will ever understand
your personality the way I do. You’re
affectionate when you want to be but you hide a mean streak and always show it when
I’m not around. That’s what I don’t
like. I come home at times, to hear that
you snapped at a child or that you growled or ran after someone. What will I do with you?
I can’t count the number of times that friends and neighbours
suggested I have you put down. I could
never ever do it. I thought about euthanasia
for you if only to stop it. But you know
what, only a few have seen just how gentle you can be. I cried rivers every single time someone tells me that I have to let you go.
This is only between the two of us.
Muffin, I will keep you for as long as I can. I hope my loving touch will erase that mean
streak you have and which you never ever show me.
Call me selfish. But I’m keeping
you because you make me happy. I love
the way you cuddle, I love feeling you right beside me in bed. I love the way you greet me every
morning. Such exuberance! I love how you
greet me when I get up from bed. I don’t
like the way you look at me at mealtimes though. It’s as if you haven’t been fed and we know
that it’s the exact opposite. I love the way you just come to me at random and place your chin on my lap or reach out with a paw. Others don't see that and that's okay with me. They probably don't need to because that's your special side and only special people see it.
I did a bit of research about dog pounds here. They’re deplorable to say in the least. Never.
I can never ever bring you to a place that would ultimately lead to your
death. Time away from me brings you
anguish. I don’t think I will ever stand
that look of betrayal many dogs have probably given when their owners left
them especially if it comes from you. I'd probably have nightmares many times over. So no. The answer is a definite ‘NO!’
I pray that the only touch you will ever feel in your
lifetime is one of love. I tell that to
you often and now I’m writing it too. I pray to that we will be together for as long as I can keep you - where no calamity has separated us or some unforeseen event. I can't really think of any other possible reason as to why we would be apart - except that I travel at times. The most beautiful thing is that I'm excited to come home to you. So live, love, and just be you.Who knows, as a spirit, you may later on turn into something else – a human
maybe – and you’d be able to read this. I hope you'd be able to.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
To My Little Sister - Part 10
April 1, 2015
Dear Rose,
One more day to go before I spend the Holy Week there. It'll have been 25 years since. The nice thing with hearing mass there at this time of the year is that I know that the Holy Week ceremonies are going to be a lot more solemn and definitely a lot more different than the ones I've seen out here. Memories of those times are quite faded. The only thing I remember is the solemnity. I sure am looking forward to Easter Sunday most of all.
I'm still reeling from how quickly things turned out the way they did. A lot of people are happy for me and I know a lot of others who may not be too happy. But you know what?I frankly don't care much. I'm at an age where I just do the things I need to do in my life. I don't have a lot of expectations for the Holy Week other than that I will be living in peace with myself and a couple of friends. If I see you,I hope it'll be good. I don't have to talk to you. I just need to see you're happy. You have no reason to fake happiness if you aren't. I'll know as well if you are. From all that I've heard from Monsie, I'm more inclined to believe that all is well and that you've finally found your niche in that community. I am also dealing with making peace with that fact.
As you probably will read from my previous letters - I'd rather you stay. I know that choices need to be made on your own. But you know what, it really isn't worth the pain, the noise, the pollution, the chaos that is out here. I like it because it's taken me 25 years of living it, of getting used to. This is my life now. Would I return someday, it would probably be safe to say that I'm not closing all my doors at this time. I can't say for sure. I like my life out here because there isn't too many rules I need to follow. For sure, there are rules in that community as we both know so well - the question is whether I'm willing to leave everything and abide by those rules again - of prayer and of work. Not at this time. I'm to steeped in the way of life here. It was good that Monsie accepted that fact but that she had advised me to be cautious. I will keep that in mind. One cannot be too pious out here as I've learned many a time. One needs to be strong-willed. But then I can only do so much.
So, I hope see a glimpse of you in the next few days.
Love ya,
Marie
Note: Super duper late post
Dear Rose,
One more day to go before I spend the Holy Week there. It'll have been 25 years since. The nice thing with hearing mass there at this time of the year is that I know that the Holy Week ceremonies are going to be a lot more solemn and definitely a lot more different than the ones I've seen out here. Memories of those times are quite faded. The only thing I remember is the solemnity. I sure am looking forward to Easter Sunday most of all.
I'm still reeling from how quickly things turned out the way they did. A lot of people are happy for me and I know a lot of others who may not be too happy. But you know what?I frankly don't care much. I'm at an age where I just do the things I need to do in my life. I don't have a lot of expectations for the Holy Week other than that I will be living in peace with myself and a couple of friends. If I see you,I hope it'll be good. I don't have to talk to you. I just need to see you're happy. You have no reason to fake happiness if you aren't. I'll know as well if you are. From all that I've heard from Monsie, I'm more inclined to believe that all is well and that you've finally found your niche in that community. I am also dealing with making peace with that fact.
As you probably will read from my previous letters - I'd rather you stay. I know that choices need to be made on your own. But you know what, it really isn't worth the pain, the noise, the pollution, the chaos that is out here. I like it because it's taken me 25 years of living it, of getting used to. This is my life now. Would I return someday, it would probably be safe to say that I'm not closing all my doors at this time. I can't say for sure. I like my life out here because there isn't too many rules I need to follow. For sure, there are rules in that community as we both know so well - the question is whether I'm willing to leave everything and abide by those rules again - of prayer and of work. Not at this time. I'm to steeped in the way of life here. It was good that Monsie accepted that fact but that she had advised me to be cautious. I will keep that in mind. One cannot be too pious out here as I've learned many a time. One needs to be strong-willed. But then I can only do so much.
So, I hope see a glimpse of you in the next few days.
Love ya,
Marie
Note: Super duper late post
To My Little Sister - Part 9
March 30, 2015
Dear Rose,
By now, you may have heard that I paid a visit to Monsie yesterday. After 25 years since I left, I can't really put into words how I feel right now. I feel light but still apprehensive about what we talked about for almost 8.5 hours yesterday. For the most part, she was able to confirm that what was done to us was a big mistake. There was no one to care for us at the time and there was just no one who'd be able to handle our group and that's why Mona was assigned to care for us (more, more sighs.) It was definitely unfortunate that she had to be the one to care for us and dole out so much pain. But then, when I look back at the time, it's with a mixture of distaste for what has been and a feeling of triumph for what was. I can continue to move on with my life as you have yours. I do hope again, you've moved on with better memories, good memories.
If Monsie tells me that life is good for you, then it must be. If Mona hasn't been and never will be in charge of watching over other people, then everything should be okay, right?
I asked to speak with you yesterday. Monsie said, maybe one day I could. It's definitely something to look forward to.
Gotta rush off for work. Talk to you more when I write next.
Love ya,
Marie
Note: Late post again.
Dear Rose,
By now, you may have heard that I paid a visit to Monsie yesterday. After 25 years since I left, I can't really put into words how I feel right now. I feel light but still apprehensive about what we talked about for almost 8.5 hours yesterday. For the most part, she was able to confirm that what was done to us was a big mistake. There was no one to care for us at the time and there was just no one who'd be able to handle our group and that's why Mona was assigned to care for us (more, more sighs.) It was definitely unfortunate that she had to be the one to care for us and dole out so much pain. But then, when I look back at the time, it's with a mixture of distaste for what has been and a feeling of triumph for what was. I can continue to move on with my life as you have yours. I do hope again, you've moved on with better memories, good memories.
If Monsie tells me that life is good for you, then it must be. If Mona hasn't been and never will be in charge of watching over other people, then everything should be okay, right?
I asked to speak with you yesterday. Monsie said, maybe one day I could. It's definitely something to look forward to.
Gotta rush off for work. Talk to you more when I write next.
Love ya,
Marie
Note: Late post again.
To My Little Sister - Part 8
March 29, 2015
Dear Rose,
It's been almost a week since I last wrote. There've been a lot of things as always. It does get pretty crazy out here in the city at times. l'm pretty sure that while you're there, you take things in stride right? Do they still teach you guys to move like you're never in a rush, that it calms the spirit or something to that effect. The funny thing is, out here, I'm one of the people who move real slow. Friends, classmates, bosses alike say I move like I have so much time ahead. What they don't know is that I'm moving at a real fast pace (according to my standards.)
I just finished reading a book entitled, Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. It's an uplifting story but it has so much more text that just pulls at your heart strings. I'm such a sucker for love stories and some sad stories. This is a story about a very active, energetic, dynamic, sociable wealthy and almost powerful man who met an accident that left him moving around in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. As expected, he finds it difficult to adapt to his new way of life. And much to his family's dismay he attempts to end his own life - an unsuccessful attempt at that. He signs an agreement with his family that they give him only 6 months to live after which he would like to mercifully end his life. The family hires a companion for him without really telling her that she's there to try and talk him out of his suicidal mission. I guess the story has a lot of twists. I was still hoping that at the end of it all, that his companion, Louisa, would be able to dissuade him from taking that final step. She tried her best but in the end, he still ended his life by euthanasia. The final twist is that in return, he gives Louisa, the chance of a lifetime - a chance to get out of her comfort zone and dare to do things she's never done before. It's inspirational and also downright depressing. Hahahaha. I cried tons towards the end. Oh well, that's life.
So here I am inspired once more to get going on with my dreams. I have a lot to accomplish and I'm still in a quandary as to where I should even start. Is it my art, my music, is it my vocational lessons, is it saving up even more, is it building a business to help build my savings, is it moving abroad to work or study? Like the character in the book, the possibilities are endless.
I blame Caryana in part for having left me in emotional shambles. But I've managed to pick up the rest of the pieces in my life, albeit after so much difficulty. But it can happen and we can do it. So if you decide to ever leave, make sure it's because you really want to. I'm telling you, this world out here, it really is different. No one expects you to be very good always and you can't be good all the time even if you want to. Take for example when you're lining up for tickets to a movie and a group of teenagers overtake you in their excitement to purchase tickets for their crush's concert. I could let one pass. But if this happens a good number of times and if it leaves me still at the end of the line after half an hour to an hour, that's the time I really have to put my foot down. Enough with being generous. You get my point? So I'm glad if at this time, you have no will to leave. Life is good out here really and I apologize if I am sending you mixed signals. But what I'm saying is -this is reality. Sometimes life is good if we choose it to be. And at other times, you may just feel like you're the unluckiest person alive.
One thing is certain, that whatever I choose to do - a friend I want to have, if I choose to stay home instead of going to church, if I choose to laze in bed, all these decisions will have its consequences. If I chose to let my past, those horrible memories take ahold of my thoughts until I had worked myself into a mighty frenzy, who knows what I could've done. I'd probably have also gone crazy with thinking about the worst things that could've happened. Anger can do that to a person. I remember once where one detractor said that she could actually see the horns of the devil on Monsie. I just had to tell her, well I don't. I'm sorry, I couldn't indulge her. So I kept thinking that his was probably because she was so mad at the community, so mad at the people managing it. I was angry for a very long time. Angry at Caryana. But you know what, only one person ever hurt me - really hurt me. But she isn't Caryana. It's not easy to realize that. A friend had to make me see it. I guess, you'll always want to believe what you want to believe.
In all these, I'm coming to realize just how one sided this entire situation was all along. That I, and all the rest, are clueless to what's really happened. It's much like being judged even before people get to know you. There is no way I am condoning what was done to us. But there is also no denying the fact that we may not have even existed until today if we were not taken in. I keep thinking and I firmly believe that if it weren't for all those atrocious deeds, I'd still be living there. Would I be happy? I wouldn't really know. Do I have plans of going back. Not now or in the near future. Maybe one of these days, when Monsie and Father Odon are not alive and you and I have grown old, maybe I may even think of coming back. But why? I love my life out here too much to really even entertain the thought of staying there for good.
I imagine myself living in silence like it was those years ago. The silence would be welcome. But for how long? How long could I last without being restless once again. I think that was the thing with me. It was my restlessness. My thoughts could run haywire all day. I probably would have been some kind of artist by now if I had not lived there… not the type you see on TV. Maybe a writer, maybe a moody painter. But today, I aspire to be those and still believe I'm doing a pretty good job at it. Again, there are definitely no regrets with living out here. There may be a few 'what if's' but they're not the kind that would make me break out in a sweat.
It's Sunday again. You're done with Mass and are probably on lunch. Maybe you guys are out to have a fun day today. That's one of the things I miss. We don't get a lot of that out here without having to worry about every penny that we'd have to spend. That's one of the nice things you got going there.
I visited Caryana today. I'll probably talk to you about it in future letters. Something good came out of it is what I can say.
Anyways, take care.
Marie
Note: Super duper late post.
Dear Rose,
It's been almost a week since I last wrote. There've been a lot of things as always. It does get pretty crazy out here in the city at times. l'm pretty sure that while you're there, you take things in stride right? Do they still teach you guys to move like you're never in a rush, that it calms the spirit or something to that effect. The funny thing is, out here, I'm one of the people who move real slow. Friends, classmates, bosses alike say I move like I have so much time ahead. What they don't know is that I'm moving at a real fast pace (according to my standards.)
I just finished reading a book entitled, Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. It's an uplifting story but it has so much more text that just pulls at your heart strings. I'm such a sucker for love stories and some sad stories. This is a story about a very active, energetic, dynamic, sociable wealthy and almost powerful man who met an accident that left him moving around in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. As expected, he finds it difficult to adapt to his new way of life. And much to his family's dismay he attempts to end his own life - an unsuccessful attempt at that. He signs an agreement with his family that they give him only 6 months to live after which he would like to mercifully end his life. The family hires a companion for him without really telling her that she's there to try and talk him out of his suicidal mission. I guess the story has a lot of twists. I was still hoping that at the end of it all, that his companion, Louisa, would be able to dissuade him from taking that final step. She tried her best but in the end, he still ended his life by euthanasia. The final twist is that in return, he gives Louisa, the chance of a lifetime - a chance to get out of her comfort zone and dare to do things she's never done before. It's inspirational and also downright depressing. Hahahaha. I cried tons towards the end. Oh well, that's life.
So here I am inspired once more to get going on with my dreams. I have a lot to accomplish and I'm still in a quandary as to where I should even start. Is it my art, my music, is it my vocational lessons, is it saving up even more, is it building a business to help build my savings, is it moving abroad to work or study? Like the character in the book, the possibilities are endless.
I blame Caryana in part for having left me in emotional shambles. But I've managed to pick up the rest of the pieces in my life, albeit after so much difficulty. But it can happen and we can do it. So if you decide to ever leave, make sure it's because you really want to. I'm telling you, this world out here, it really is different. No one expects you to be very good always and you can't be good all the time even if you want to. Take for example when you're lining up for tickets to a movie and a group of teenagers overtake you in their excitement to purchase tickets for their crush's concert. I could let one pass. But if this happens a good number of times and if it leaves me still at the end of the line after half an hour to an hour, that's the time I really have to put my foot down. Enough with being generous. You get my point? So I'm glad if at this time, you have no will to leave. Life is good out here really and I apologize if I am sending you mixed signals. But what I'm saying is -this is reality. Sometimes life is good if we choose it to be. And at other times, you may just feel like you're the unluckiest person alive.
One thing is certain, that whatever I choose to do - a friend I want to have, if I choose to stay home instead of going to church, if I choose to laze in bed, all these decisions will have its consequences. If I chose to let my past, those horrible memories take ahold of my thoughts until I had worked myself into a mighty frenzy, who knows what I could've done. I'd probably have also gone crazy with thinking about the worst things that could've happened. Anger can do that to a person. I remember once where one detractor said that she could actually see the horns of the devil on Monsie. I just had to tell her, well I don't. I'm sorry, I couldn't indulge her. So I kept thinking that his was probably because she was so mad at the community, so mad at the people managing it. I was angry for a very long time. Angry at Caryana. But you know what, only one person ever hurt me - really hurt me. But she isn't Caryana. It's not easy to realize that. A friend had to make me see it. I guess, you'll always want to believe what you want to believe.
In all these, I'm coming to realize just how one sided this entire situation was all along. That I, and all the rest, are clueless to what's really happened. It's much like being judged even before people get to know you. There is no way I am condoning what was done to us. But there is also no denying the fact that we may not have even existed until today if we were not taken in. I keep thinking and I firmly believe that if it weren't for all those atrocious deeds, I'd still be living there. Would I be happy? I wouldn't really know. Do I have plans of going back. Not now or in the near future. Maybe one of these days, when Monsie and Father Odon are not alive and you and I have grown old, maybe I may even think of coming back. But why? I love my life out here too much to really even entertain the thought of staying there for good.
I imagine myself living in silence like it was those years ago. The silence would be welcome. But for how long? How long could I last without being restless once again. I think that was the thing with me. It was my restlessness. My thoughts could run haywire all day. I probably would have been some kind of artist by now if I had not lived there… not the type you see on TV. Maybe a writer, maybe a moody painter. But today, I aspire to be those and still believe I'm doing a pretty good job at it. Again, there are definitely no regrets with living out here. There may be a few 'what if's' but they're not the kind that would make me break out in a sweat.
It's Sunday again. You're done with Mass and are probably on lunch. Maybe you guys are out to have a fun day today. That's one of the things I miss. We don't get a lot of that out here without having to worry about every penny that we'd have to spend. That's one of the nice things you got going there.
I visited Caryana today. I'll probably talk to you about it in future letters. Something good came out of it is what I can say.
Anyways, take care.
Marie
Note: Super duper late post.
To My Little Sister - Part 7
March 22, 2015
Dear Rose,
How are you? I'm trying to uplift my spirits. I'm trying to feel happier. Alisha, Michelle's adorable, adorable, little girl just left for her trip back to Australia. She's the funniest little girl I've ever encountered. If there's a little girl who knows how to use her charms, it's definitely her. I don't know when she and her mum will be back. Hopefully, it'll be soon. At almost a year and half, she's feisty and knows what she wants and doesn't want - in terms of food and what she wants to do. To top it all, she has so much energy enough to last us for 3 days. Hahaha Age oh age!
This is her:
I wonder how grandma feels. But it's good that she has this wonderful ability to just take things in stride and just take things as they are. If I were in her place, I would definitely feel crushed knowing that the bond I should be sharing with my own child is someone else's joy. But that's her. Ever since I met her out here again, she's always been such a jolly person - laughs at almost every little thing. That's probably why she still looks like she's in her 30s or 40s at close to 70. The years are going by so fast and pretty soon we'll reach that age too.
I wonder how we'll both be. Will I finally be able to be at peace with that past we've all had? Maybe. It definitely is something to look forward to. The painful memories will always be there but then there are always more good and beautiful memories to look forward to. I want you to have the same thing. I don't know if we're both alike in that we harbor resentment. It isn't good and that's why I'm working on just healing myself. Life is good and if marred with bitter memories those don't make for an ideal life.
I want to just live life. There's just so much to do - music, art, wood work like picture frames and dollhouses, etc. I'll let you know what happens. For now, I'm concentrating on improving my guitar skills. I can strum and pluck a bit and the internet is full of tutorials it'd be the best way to learn; that and daily practice. Writing daily - to you (lol or whoever) and a bit of painting here and there. Nothing serious.
Anyways, it's Monday. Hope you enjoy the week. For me, it's the start of the work week - Mondays are like dreadful things because it signals the end of the weekend, the start of work and being serious, the end of play and art. But then after work each day, I look forward to going home and deciding what I want to do.
Take care,
Marie
Dear Rose,
How are you? I'm trying to uplift my spirits. I'm trying to feel happier. Alisha, Michelle's adorable, adorable, little girl just left for her trip back to Australia. She's the funniest little girl I've ever encountered. If there's a little girl who knows how to use her charms, it's definitely her. I don't know when she and her mum will be back. Hopefully, it'll be soon. At almost a year and half, she's feisty and knows what she wants and doesn't want - in terms of food and what she wants to do. To top it all, she has so much energy enough to last us for 3 days. Hahaha Age oh age!
This is her:
I wonder how grandma feels. But it's good that she has this wonderful ability to just take things in stride and just take things as they are. If I were in her place, I would definitely feel crushed knowing that the bond I should be sharing with my own child is someone else's joy. But that's her. Ever since I met her out here again, she's always been such a jolly person - laughs at almost every little thing. That's probably why she still looks like she's in her 30s or 40s at close to 70. The years are going by so fast and pretty soon we'll reach that age too.
I wonder how we'll both be. Will I finally be able to be at peace with that past we've all had? Maybe. It definitely is something to look forward to. The painful memories will always be there but then there are always more good and beautiful memories to look forward to. I want you to have the same thing. I don't know if we're both alike in that we harbor resentment. It isn't good and that's why I'm working on just healing myself. Life is good and if marred with bitter memories those don't make for an ideal life.
I want to just live life. There's just so much to do - music, art, wood work like picture frames and dollhouses, etc. I'll let you know what happens. For now, I'm concentrating on improving my guitar skills. I can strum and pluck a bit and the internet is full of tutorials it'd be the best way to learn; that and daily practice. Writing daily - to you (lol or whoever) and a bit of painting here and there. Nothing serious.
Anyways, it's Monday. Hope you enjoy the week. For me, it's the start of the work week - Mondays are like dreadful things because it signals the end of the weekend, the start of work and being serious, the end of play and art. But then after work each day, I look forward to going home and deciding what I want to do.
Take care,
Marie
To My Little Sister - Part 6
March 22, 2015
Dear Rose,
I almost didn't wake up early. I always try to wake up early in the morning because I find that it is the best time to write. Sometimes, I suffer from what we call - writer's block, where the flow of thoughts just doesn't come freely and therefore, there is a dearth of topics to write about. A few weeks ago, before I got this techy thing, I felt tired writing. Writing on a notebook is good. But my hands will never flow as fast as my thoughts do. But at least when I type, it cuts down the time and at least I can just type and type and type on. Thank God for techy stuff huh.
Anyway, it's Sunday today, so I'm assuming that you're up and about and ready to go to church. I'm a bit sad because this is Michelle and Alisha's last day here before they fly off again to Australia. They've been here for about 3.5 months after her dad died. And she's also spent as much time of it in Caryana, with her mom and JP. You've met Alisha haven't you. She is the sweetest, the smartest and the funniest little girl ever. I'm going to miss my Princess. She has been growing by leaps and bounds and at one year and a half, she has been trying to say as many words as she can on a daily basis. Yesterday, she said 'excuse me' which sounded like 'su si' She's wonderful and too cute. I don't know how to describe the joy she brings and more so because Michelle and I have become real best friends, almost like sisters. I hope you have a buddy too that you could trust the same way I do Michelle. It's a friendship that has had it's ups and downs. If there was one person in the whole while world who's been totally supportive about all my dreams - it's her. It's a wonderful thing to have and this is one reason I stay out here.
She and I actually were just talking about you yesterday and how you may not after all, appreciate the fact that I am working to get you out of there. To tell you the truth, it's a half-hearted effort. I want Mona and the other women there to pay the consequences of the atrocious acts done but at the same time, I'd like to respect the fact that some of you may not really want to live outside. I mean really - Again, life out here can be fun but at your age, it really is going to take a lot of adjustment. You'll have to learn how to earn. Before you can earn, you'll have to go through some sort of education - like you may need to take an online course or go to a traditional school to learn a trade. Who'd pay for your course, who'd help you with funds for transportation, with every day expenses for food, lodgings, water and what not. And when you start working, it's never easy. Depending on the type of work you applied for, most times, it's not just going to about you sitting behind a desk and doing paperwork. Not unless if you probably apply at a Call Center. But this is a tough job too. Most people think differently. But that's just them.
Most of those who came out applied there. It doesn't take much education but it also demands a lot from applicants - the work hours, the type of Support you'll be giving - Customer Service, Technical Support, Financial Support, HealthCare Support - and having to deal with all kinds of customers. It's never been easy. The bright side to it, is learning new stuff, getting paid a higher wage compared to the ordinary daily wage - like you can earn from 13 thousand Pesos to 18 thousand pesos, depending on how you speak and the type of Support you'll be rendering. It's really a gamble. You'll have to learn how to stand on your own. Again, remembering what I know of you - you're pretty impulsive - more impulsive than I am. So if I find a certain line of work difficult, I'm tempted to leave. I did that in my past jobs. I left and didn't go back. It's a shame. I got out of working that old and boring routine, but the downside to it is that I didn't' get my final pay each time. So it was like, working for free for a company I didn't like. At least those instances were few and far between. Most of the time, one has just got to grit one's teeth and forge on.
So allow me to write and I hope you'd be able to read it someday. I'll be happy if you are. That's the only thing that really matters to me. Sunday mass over there is about to start. I haven't been to mass in a long, long time. Last Sunday, I attended mass only because I had to attend the christening ceremony of one of my god children, Kiera. But I don't really go to church. I like going on my own - which is rare. I just don't especially when I hear words from the pulpit that aim to put the fear of the Lord in everyone's hearts. My point is that the way to God isn't something scary. There are many and different ways to the Lord as each of us travel our own paths. If we all did, then the Martyrs and the Saints would have lived exactly the same life and end up in Heaven. But that wasn't the case. Some served the Lord and died peacefully. Others served the Lord and were persecuted for it. Others, spent their whole lives helping to convert heathens to Christianity, while others spent their lives serving the poor. There are too many ways to reach out to the Lord. I do it in my own simple way by talking to the Lord in prayer when I remember. Like if I'm on the bus, or I'm the shower….any place is a good place to talk to the Lord. There is no fear of damnation because I know that I haven't done anything wrong. My heart may not be pure most times. What I'm probably aiming at is that the life in there, serving God can also be lived out here. God did say, there is one way to serve him but he didn't specify a place, did he? No. He most certainly did not mention Caryana. So if you wish to be there, I have to learn to accept it. I may not like it but if you're happy, I should be happy for you.
Oh well, the argument for the day ends now.
Enjoy your day okay.
Love,
Marie
Note: Better late than never post.
Dear Rose,
I almost didn't wake up early. I always try to wake up early in the morning because I find that it is the best time to write. Sometimes, I suffer from what we call - writer's block, where the flow of thoughts just doesn't come freely and therefore, there is a dearth of topics to write about. A few weeks ago, before I got this techy thing, I felt tired writing. Writing on a notebook is good. But my hands will never flow as fast as my thoughts do. But at least when I type, it cuts down the time and at least I can just type and type and type on. Thank God for techy stuff huh.
Anyway, it's Sunday today, so I'm assuming that you're up and about and ready to go to church. I'm a bit sad because this is Michelle and Alisha's last day here before they fly off again to Australia. They've been here for about 3.5 months after her dad died. And she's also spent as much time of it in Caryana, with her mom and JP. You've met Alisha haven't you. She is the sweetest, the smartest and the funniest little girl ever. I'm going to miss my Princess. She has been growing by leaps and bounds and at one year and a half, she has been trying to say as many words as she can on a daily basis. Yesterday, she said 'excuse me' which sounded like 'su si' She's wonderful and too cute. I don't know how to describe the joy she brings and more so because Michelle and I have become real best friends, almost like sisters. I hope you have a buddy too that you could trust the same way I do Michelle. It's a friendship that has had it's ups and downs. If there was one person in the whole while world who's been totally supportive about all my dreams - it's her. It's a wonderful thing to have and this is one reason I stay out here.
She and I actually were just talking about you yesterday and how you may not after all, appreciate the fact that I am working to get you out of there. To tell you the truth, it's a half-hearted effort. I want Mona and the other women there to pay the consequences of the atrocious acts done but at the same time, I'd like to respect the fact that some of you may not really want to live outside. I mean really - Again, life out here can be fun but at your age, it really is going to take a lot of adjustment. You'll have to learn how to earn. Before you can earn, you'll have to go through some sort of education - like you may need to take an online course or go to a traditional school to learn a trade. Who'd pay for your course, who'd help you with funds for transportation, with every day expenses for food, lodgings, water and what not. And when you start working, it's never easy. Depending on the type of work you applied for, most times, it's not just going to about you sitting behind a desk and doing paperwork. Not unless if you probably apply at a Call Center. But this is a tough job too. Most people think differently. But that's just them.
Most of those who came out applied there. It doesn't take much education but it also demands a lot from applicants - the work hours, the type of Support you'll be giving - Customer Service, Technical Support, Financial Support, HealthCare Support - and having to deal with all kinds of customers. It's never been easy. The bright side to it, is learning new stuff, getting paid a higher wage compared to the ordinary daily wage - like you can earn from 13 thousand Pesos to 18 thousand pesos, depending on how you speak and the type of Support you'll be rendering. It's really a gamble. You'll have to learn how to stand on your own. Again, remembering what I know of you - you're pretty impulsive - more impulsive than I am. So if I find a certain line of work difficult, I'm tempted to leave. I did that in my past jobs. I left and didn't go back. It's a shame. I got out of working that old and boring routine, but the downside to it is that I didn't' get my final pay each time. So it was like, working for free for a company I didn't like. At least those instances were few and far between. Most of the time, one has just got to grit one's teeth and forge on.
So allow me to write and I hope you'd be able to read it someday. I'll be happy if you are. That's the only thing that really matters to me. Sunday mass over there is about to start. I haven't been to mass in a long, long time. Last Sunday, I attended mass only because I had to attend the christening ceremony of one of my god children, Kiera. But I don't really go to church. I like going on my own - which is rare. I just don't especially when I hear words from the pulpit that aim to put the fear of the Lord in everyone's hearts. My point is that the way to God isn't something scary. There are many and different ways to the Lord as each of us travel our own paths. If we all did, then the Martyrs and the Saints would have lived exactly the same life and end up in Heaven. But that wasn't the case. Some served the Lord and died peacefully. Others served the Lord and were persecuted for it. Others, spent their whole lives helping to convert heathens to Christianity, while others spent their lives serving the poor. There are too many ways to reach out to the Lord. I do it in my own simple way by talking to the Lord in prayer when I remember. Like if I'm on the bus, or I'm the shower….any place is a good place to talk to the Lord. There is no fear of damnation because I know that I haven't done anything wrong. My heart may not be pure most times. What I'm probably aiming at is that the life in there, serving God can also be lived out here. God did say, there is one way to serve him but he didn't specify a place, did he? No. He most certainly did not mention Caryana. So if you wish to be there, I have to learn to accept it. I may not like it but if you're happy, I should be happy for you.
Oh well, the argument for the day ends now.
Enjoy your day okay.
Love,
Marie
Note: Better late than never post.
To My Little Sister - Part 5
March 20, 2015
Dear Rose,
I woke up real early today with a stuffy and running nose. The summer time is well on its way so this is not a welcome feeling. But as always, I'm still ready to write you a letter for the day. There isn't much really. Yesterday was a good day though. I bought another book - Cat & Mouse by James Patterson. It's a murder thriller. After watching countless documentaries, TV series and movie series on psychopath killers, it's little wonder that I still do not have the makings of a killer. Perhaps if I put what I learned into practice it would. But you know what? I just ain't made out of killing material. I have a soft spot for people. Maybe if I stayed longer in there - I'd probably be one as a teen - with that devil may care attitude that I had.
Anyway, I had a meeting with my big, big boss on training methods. It was good. My company is finally seeing the light in terms of technology. The funny thing is, just when I bought by laptop, they tell me now that they ordered a laptop for me to use at work. Anyways, this investment hasn't been in vain. I need as many of the tools as I need to just get to writing and to researching. Plus, they're also requesting for an iPAD. Amazing! It's good to read about things, to relax, just let my brain absorb all the information. I like this learning thing. I'm not a nerd or what - hopefully not. But it's good to read and watch stuff. You'd be surprised at the extent of the knowledge base on the Net.
Speaking of Knowledge - do you remember the Books of Knowledge we used to read when we were younger? I couldn't get enough of those. I loved the stories, the articles. Do you also remember the time that Mona used to let us memorize those articles on what gravity was, the push and pull of the earth, inertia, the different planets and how they rotated on their axis? It was the closest thing to education that we could ever get. I just hope that she was better at explaining things rather than just making us memorize paragraphs. In fact, I remember the photocopied brown, ruled papers, the school materials they bought us, like pencils, papers, the erasers with those eyes I loved to jiggle up and down.
After a few months of leaving - I left on May 25, 1990 - In July of the same year, mom and dad had me enrolled in the very school that Monsie, Nagi, Sandy and BimBim studied in - St. Scholastica's College, Manila. I was amazed at the number of books and notebooks that I had to bring on a daily basis. I loved the classes except for Filipino and History. Not because I didn't want to learn. It was only because I didn't understand a single word. That, together with the fact that I had no knowledge of what PE and HE meant. So, my classmates were like - 'where the heck did you come from? You from the U .S. or what?" One even said, "even if you study in the U.S. you should know what those stand for. You testing us? That's stupid." So I remember my face becoming real warm - I was blushing from embarrassment and I walked away from the group. That was the first day of class. My teachers were very nice. They always smiled and made it a point to answer all of my questions. I got good grades and became really good at working on projects they assigned us. Call me teacher's pet. Almost everyone called me Teacher's pet because I'd sit and talk with them, ask them about life, their children, what life was like for them. That's how I knew that the experiences we had weren't supposed to happen. My classmates always thought I was fishing for grades. I didn't even know what it was at the time. In fact, I loved talking to my teachers and the nuns rather than talking to mom and dad when I came home.
I only had a couple of friends but it didn't really matter. I was in the same grade as Mocca. But she was in a different section. She used to call me and ask me so much stuff like if I met the brother of so and the guy friend of whoever. I was like - no, I didn't really have time for that and it wasn't like mom and dad would allow me. She hurt my feelings sometimes by telling me that I was such a prude but that was okay. I kept everything inside. Sometimes, I was sad and a few moments later, I'd be okay again. The best place I always went to no matter what school I was in - whether it was St. Scholastica's College or Assumption or Philippine Women's University - it was always the Library. In there, I lived in my own world. I was in every book lover's paradise.
If there ever was a number of frustrations in school - it was the inability to fully understand Filipino and having mom and dad attend our Family Day or Sports days or other days in school. I used to be so envious of my classmates in Assumption who brought with them both parents and their siblings. I'd sit in the bleachers and just look at how happy they were. I'd be waiting and waiting and then finally one of my brothers would come. You remember Tong, don't you. Among all, he was the one who showed a slight interest in my studies and would attend some of my school functions. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate his presence. It was just different because I felt I needed mom and dad to be there for me. Even when I graduated High School - Tong was there. My parents were not. I was smiling for the camera but my heart was aching. Dad said he and mom didn't go because it was too warm. I said it was okay and that I understood. But it still hurt. I think what hurts the most is that I didn't let them know how I felt. I've been handling a team for two to three years. I feel bad when people don't speak up. I'm not a soothsayer who can guess what's on their minds. So I remembered how I was with mom and dad. Stupid huh?
No one helped me with research or projects. I had to do those on my own. It was good training ground I guess. Plus, I had the library all to myself. The librarians from the libraries in Elementary, High School and College knew me. That was my go-to place, my place of peace, quiet, solitude. To get lost in the world of books was always better than anything else. It's a miracle I didn't go crazy with the stuff that I was reading. You'd probably love it as well. I can't remember real well if you loved reading - I'm assuming you did. Almost all the girls who grew up there and who're out here would die for books. hahaha it's a term.
Anyways, as always - I hope you enjoy your day to day. If you love books too it'd be swell. We could go to the library or the bookstore together.
Wishing,
Marie
Note: Boom! yeah - this is another late post.
Dear Rose,
I woke up real early today with a stuffy and running nose. The summer time is well on its way so this is not a welcome feeling. But as always, I'm still ready to write you a letter for the day. There isn't much really. Yesterday was a good day though. I bought another book - Cat & Mouse by James Patterson. It's a murder thriller. After watching countless documentaries, TV series and movie series on psychopath killers, it's little wonder that I still do not have the makings of a killer. Perhaps if I put what I learned into practice it would. But you know what? I just ain't made out of killing material. I have a soft spot for people. Maybe if I stayed longer in there - I'd probably be one as a teen - with that devil may care attitude that I had.
Anyway, I had a meeting with my big, big boss on training methods. It was good. My company is finally seeing the light in terms of technology. The funny thing is, just when I bought by laptop, they tell me now that they ordered a laptop for me to use at work. Anyways, this investment hasn't been in vain. I need as many of the tools as I need to just get to writing and to researching. Plus, they're also requesting for an iPAD. Amazing! It's good to read about things, to relax, just let my brain absorb all the information. I like this learning thing. I'm not a nerd or what - hopefully not. But it's good to read and watch stuff. You'd be surprised at the extent of the knowledge base on the Net.
Speaking of Knowledge - do you remember the Books of Knowledge we used to read when we were younger? I couldn't get enough of those. I loved the stories, the articles. Do you also remember the time that Mona used to let us memorize those articles on what gravity was, the push and pull of the earth, inertia, the different planets and how they rotated on their axis? It was the closest thing to education that we could ever get. I just hope that she was better at explaining things rather than just making us memorize paragraphs. In fact, I remember the photocopied brown, ruled papers, the school materials they bought us, like pencils, papers, the erasers with those eyes I loved to jiggle up and down.
After a few months of leaving - I left on May 25, 1990 - In July of the same year, mom and dad had me enrolled in the very school that Monsie, Nagi, Sandy and BimBim studied in - St. Scholastica's College, Manila. I was amazed at the number of books and notebooks that I had to bring on a daily basis. I loved the classes except for Filipino and History. Not because I didn't want to learn. It was only because I didn't understand a single word. That, together with the fact that I had no knowledge of what PE and HE meant. So, my classmates were like - 'where the heck did you come from? You from the U .S. or what?" One even said, "even if you study in the U.S. you should know what those stand for. You testing us? That's stupid." So I remember my face becoming real warm - I was blushing from embarrassment and I walked away from the group. That was the first day of class. My teachers were very nice. They always smiled and made it a point to answer all of my questions. I got good grades and became really good at working on projects they assigned us. Call me teacher's pet. Almost everyone called me Teacher's pet because I'd sit and talk with them, ask them about life, their children, what life was like for them. That's how I knew that the experiences we had weren't supposed to happen. My classmates always thought I was fishing for grades. I didn't even know what it was at the time. In fact, I loved talking to my teachers and the nuns rather than talking to mom and dad when I came home.
I only had a couple of friends but it didn't really matter. I was in the same grade as Mocca. But she was in a different section. She used to call me and ask me so much stuff like if I met the brother of so and the guy friend of whoever. I was like - no, I didn't really have time for that and it wasn't like mom and dad would allow me. She hurt my feelings sometimes by telling me that I was such a prude but that was okay. I kept everything inside. Sometimes, I was sad and a few moments later, I'd be okay again. The best place I always went to no matter what school I was in - whether it was St. Scholastica's College or Assumption or Philippine Women's University - it was always the Library. In there, I lived in my own world. I was in every book lover's paradise.
If there ever was a number of frustrations in school - it was the inability to fully understand Filipino and having mom and dad attend our Family Day or Sports days or other days in school. I used to be so envious of my classmates in Assumption who brought with them both parents and their siblings. I'd sit in the bleachers and just look at how happy they were. I'd be waiting and waiting and then finally one of my brothers would come. You remember Tong, don't you. Among all, he was the one who showed a slight interest in my studies and would attend some of my school functions. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate his presence. It was just different because I felt I needed mom and dad to be there for me. Even when I graduated High School - Tong was there. My parents were not. I was smiling for the camera but my heart was aching. Dad said he and mom didn't go because it was too warm. I said it was okay and that I understood. But it still hurt. I think what hurts the most is that I didn't let them know how I felt. I've been handling a team for two to three years. I feel bad when people don't speak up. I'm not a soothsayer who can guess what's on their minds. So I remembered how I was with mom and dad. Stupid huh?
No one helped me with research or projects. I had to do those on my own. It was good training ground I guess. Plus, I had the library all to myself. The librarians from the libraries in Elementary, High School and College knew me. That was my go-to place, my place of peace, quiet, solitude. To get lost in the world of books was always better than anything else. It's a miracle I didn't go crazy with the stuff that I was reading. You'd probably love it as well. I can't remember real well if you loved reading - I'm assuming you did. Almost all the girls who grew up there and who're out here would die for books. hahaha it's a term.
Anyways, as always - I hope you enjoy your day to day. If you love books too it'd be swell. We could go to the library or the bookstore together.
Wishing,
Marie
Note: Boom! yeah - this is another late post.
To My Little Sister - Part 4
March 19, 2015
Dear Rose,
Luckily my working hours are so relaxed. I kind of have to really get that feel for work sometimes. It isn't because I don't want to work. I mean - I like earning. Sometimes, I just get really tired (not physically) of working. I've been working in this BPO (Call Center industry) for a little more than 11 years now. It was very difficult at first because the shift schedules were the exact opposite of the normal work hours. In the Philippines, you normally work during the day, when the sun is out. When you work in a Call Center, you sleep during the day and work at night because most of our customers are from the U.S. When it's daytime there, it is night time here. Anyways, I went through this period of adjustment that took about 6-7 years. It was that long! So imagine if you've only been working there for just a few days, to a month to a year. Some say, they don't really have a difficult time sleeping but if you've spent a good number of years sleeping peacefully at night - I tell you, when you try to sleep during the day, you do so with a lot of effort during the first few years. When I lay down and tried to sleep, I could hear people talking, the birds chirping, the roosters crowing, children laughing and playing. They were constant sources of frustration but I had to keep it to myself. It made no sense for me to scream my head off (even if I wanted very much to do so!!!) There were days, when even just a few minutes of sleep was all I had.
Last night, I asked my new boss, Edison, if I could just take the day off and get to work in the afternoon the next day. So now it's early morning - early for me - and am up writing you. Again dear, I don't really know what you're going to make out of all these letters. I don't know too if you'll ever get to read them. I also have no idea how you'd feel living out here. For sure, you'd enjoy your freedom tremendously. But then there's just so much one can do out here.
I remember when I first left, I'd stay up a bit at night, in my own room in mom's house, just looking at the neighbour's night light as it shown through my window, I'd think that it was unbelievable how I successfully left. Many months after, I used to just smile from sheer happiness at how light I felt. Freedom was sweet victory. But then when I woke up the next day, mom would ask me to help clean the house, wash the dishes, or I needed to do something else. Those chores were definitely not my idea of freedom. But I had to do them. I think it was a constant push and pull of wills. I was always thinking that I'd get punished just like I used to when I was in Caryana. The worst thing they could've asked me to do was to stay in my room. Many were the times that I got sent up to my room. Many were the times, I fought, I answered back, I slammed the door of my room. It broke mom and dad's hearts. I myself couldn't understand why I used to get so mad. Now that I'm so much older, I can look back and really say how stupid I was. There was so much I needed from them and I'll have to say they gave all they had. Sure, we had those moments - I think everyone does.
The anger. I had really bad periods where I would see red. Literally. I think the years of pent up emotions did that. Little things like dirt, dust, people talking too loud, children being bratty totally irritated me. I was surprised that Ate Carmina's children (you remember her don't you?) who were very little at the time were so bratty (or so I thought.) But there were no spankings for them. It was just talks, hugs and kisses. I couldn't understand that because all we knew prior to that was that as early as one, little babies could already be taught to sit on their own. At such a young age, they were already taught to sit still and if they moved and fidgeted their backsides could get tapped or really spanked. That wasn't the way out here. Mom was outraged to learn that it was being done. But it frustrated me that she couldn't do anything else about what I saw and experienced there. "Our" nieces are all grown up now and are beautiful people.
Back then, I wanted to be a Knight in shining armour and rescue all of the little children there including you and all the other girls. It's a little girl's fantasy. It was only years later that I realized that dad's warnings to be cautious and his words of having to be realistic finally sunk in. When you're brought up in a society of rules and laws - the word 'legal' is a buzzword. Now it does have meaning for me. Back then, I had no sense of the law, no sense of order. The only thing that mattered was the sense of right and wrong. After having received other people's confirmation that indeed, what was being done to us was wrong - I was going to get you guys out. But no - today, you're still there. Things didn't happen the way I pictured them when I was younger. Why? That's a question I ask myself often. What could I have done to ensure that everything was alright?
All I can say was that I had my own troubles. There was school too and I had to live. I enjoyed school. I loved learning. I just didn't like mingling with my other classmates too much nor did I like going to parties that mom would bring me to. I didn't really have other people to talk to not unless you count Mocca. Mocca, when I met her, had totally adjusted to the life out here. We were in the same grade level. She was very sociable - too sociable in fact, because she had a lot of guy friends - which mom and dad warned me about. I would visit their house in Geronimo St. Magallanes Village, to play soft ball or just sit in the swing. Their house was right across a park. Romina would be there but we rarely talked about our life in Magalang and how she would spank me. No, we each had those memories firmly tucked in the past whenever we met. We were mum about those topics.
Today, you're still there and I'm out here. We have miles and miles between us. Our mindsets are probably different. I've been thinking a lot about this for quite sometime - albeit with the help of a friend. I don't know how you feel now about Caryana. If you're living in Maurus, I think that you wouldn't really want the life out here. If you have a bit of freedom, in that place, it's more than enough. If you have food to eat, Monsie's generosity - it's more than enough. Being there, I know what it feels like to be in Maurus. Girls and boys alike would be so envious at the little favors that we'd receive. Out here, those same favours wouldn't really mean anything. So yes, maybe the life there is better for you. Ironic huh? For me to tell you that the life there would be a lot better - yes, it would. Almost nothing out here is free. You have to earn your keep. You have to traverse the highways on the way to work, get used to the noise, the sweat, the dreariness of city life. The reward we get out of it is food on my table, a place to stay, my thoughts and everything to do with as I please. I've learned a long time ago that if I abuse the freedom I have, if I do things, say things that could bring negative results, I have to pay for the consequences. I had to learn to be responsible. It's a long learning process that you may not be ready for anymore. I always think that the longer you stay there, the more settled you become. I wasn't about to go back to learn again to be silent, to follow the rules, and not to question. There are rules here to follow but there is no one following our every move, no one bringing a belt or a lash to hit you for every infraction. So, it brings with it, the desire to just do what we need to do. There is no need for that push and pull of wills. Life is good for me just as it may be good for you over there. I have my friends, you probably have yours. I can talk, I can go shopping with them or just spend a quiet day at home watching a movie or just doing simple chores. I now like doing those maybe because I rent my own apartment. No one will really clean up after me.
So I'm off to work later. I'll be back tonight. I'll be working the late afternoon shift today and tomorrow. I hope to have a bit of fun. I could fall asleep maybe because my body has to adjust. The only things I'm really looking forward to is writing the next letter and sleeping tonight. That'd be a treat. After the efforts of sleeping during the day, sleeping at night is definitely a treat.
So little sis, hope you enjoy your day. My letters are probably full of gloom and the past. I hope that sprinkles of both every now and then would give you a better picture of my life out here if you do get to read this. Again, I'm always wondering if you'd ever get to write back. All sighs for now.
Yours truly,
Marie
Note: This is another late post.
Dear Rose,
Luckily my working hours are so relaxed. I kind of have to really get that feel for work sometimes. It isn't because I don't want to work. I mean - I like earning. Sometimes, I just get really tired (not physically) of working. I've been working in this BPO (Call Center industry) for a little more than 11 years now. It was very difficult at first because the shift schedules were the exact opposite of the normal work hours. In the Philippines, you normally work during the day, when the sun is out. When you work in a Call Center, you sleep during the day and work at night because most of our customers are from the U.S. When it's daytime there, it is night time here. Anyways, I went through this period of adjustment that took about 6-7 years. It was that long! So imagine if you've only been working there for just a few days, to a month to a year. Some say, they don't really have a difficult time sleeping but if you've spent a good number of years sleeping peacefully at night - I tell you, when you try to sleep during the day, you do so with a lot of effort during the first few years. When I lay down and tried to sleep, I could hear people talking, the birds chirping, the roosters crowing, children laughing and playing. They were constant sources of frustration but I had to keep it to myself. It made no sense for me to scream my head off (even if I wanted very much to do so!!!) There were days, when even just a few minutes of sleep was all I had.
Last night, I asked my new boss, Edison, if I could just take the day off and get to work in the afternoon the next day. So now it's early morning - early for me - and am up writing you. Again dear, I don't really know what you're going to make out of all these letters. I don't know too if you'll ever get to read them. I also have no idea how you'd feel living out here. For sure, you'd enjoy your freedom tremendously. But then there's just so much one can do out here.
I remember when I first left, I'd stay up a bit at night, in my own room in mom's house, just looking at the neighbour's night light as it shown through my window, I'd think that it was unbelievable how I successfully left. Many months after, I used to just smile from sheer happiness at how light I felt. Freedom was sweet victory. But then when I woke up the next day, mom would ask me to help clean the house, wash the dishes, or I needed to do something else. Those chores were definitely not my idea of freedom. But I had to do them. I think it was a constant push and pull of wills. I was always thinking that I'd get punished just like I used to when I was in Caryana. The worst thing they could've asked me to do was to stay in my room. Many were the times that I got sent up to my room. Many were the times, I fought, I answered back, I slammed the door of my room. It broke mom and dad's hearts. I myself couldn't understand why I used to get so mad. Now that I'm so much older, I can look back and really say how stupid I was. There was so much I needed from them and I'll have to say they gave all they had. Sure, we had those moments - I think everyone does.
The anger. I had really bad periods where I would see red. Literally. I think the years of pent up emotions did that. Little things like dirt, dust, people talking too loud, children being bratty totally irritated me. I was surprised that Ate Carmina's children (you remember her don't you?) who were very little at the time were so bratty (or so I thought.) But there were no spankings for them. It was just talks, hugs and kisses. I couldn't understand that because all we knew prior to that was that as early as one, little babies could already be taught to sit on their own. At such a young age, they were already taught to sit still and if they moved and fidgeted their backsides could get tapped or really spanked. That wasn't the way out here. Mom was outraged to learn that it was being done. But it frustrated me that she couldn't do anything else about what I saw and experienced there. "Our" nieces are all grown up now and are beautiful people.
Back then, I wanted to be a Knight in shining armour and rescue all of the little children there including you and all the other girls. It's a little girl's fantasy. It was only years later that I realized that dad's warnings to be cautious and his words of having to be realistic finally sunk in. When you're brought up in a society of rules and laws - the word 'legal' is a buzzword. Now it does have meaning for me. Back then, I had no sense of the law, no sense of order. The only thing that mattered was the sense of right and wrong. After having received other people's confirmation that indeed, what was being done to us was wrong - I was going to get you guys out. But no - today, you're still there. Things didn't happen the way I pictured them when I was younger. Why? That's a question I ask myself often. What could I have done to ensure that everything was alright?
All I can say was that I had my own troubles. There was school too and I had to live. I enjoyed school. I loved learning. I just didn't like mingling with my other classmates too much nor did I like going to parties that mom would bring me to. I didn't really have other people to talk to not unless you count Mocca. Mocca, when I met her, had totally adjusted to the life out here. We were in the same grade level. She was very sociable - too sociable in fact, because she had a lot of guy friends - which mom and dad warned me about. I would visit their house in Geronimo St. Magallanes Village, to play soft ball or just sit in the swing. Their house was right across a park. Romina would be there but we rarely talked about our life in Magalang and how she would spank me. No, we each had those memories firmly tucked in the past whenever we met. We were mum about those topics.
Today, you're still there and I'm out here. We have miles and miles between us. Our mindsets are probably different. I've been thinking a lot about this for quite sometime - albeit with the help of a friend. I don't know how you feel now about Caryana. If you're living in Maurus, I think that you wouldn't really want the life out here. If you have a bit of freedom, in that place, it's more than enough. If you have food to eat, Monsie's generosity - it's more than enough. Being there, I know what it feels like to be in Maurus. Girls and boys alike would be so envious at the little favors that we'd receive. Out here, those same favours wouldn't really mean anything. So yes, maybe the life there is better for you. Ironic huh? For me to tell you that the life there would be a lot better - yes, it would. Almost nothing out here is free. You have to earn your keep. You have to traverse the highways on the way to work, get used to the noise, the sweat, the dreariness of city life. The reward we get out of it is food on my table, a place to stay, my thoughts and everything to do with as I please. I've learned a long time ago that if I abuse the freedom I have, if I do things, say things that could bring negative results, I have to pay for the consequences. I had to learn to be responsible. It's a long learning process that you may not be ready for anymore. I always think that the longer you stay there, the more settled you become. I wasn't about to go back to learn again to be silent, to follow the rules, and not to question. There are rules here to follow but there is no one following our every move, no one bringing a belt or a lash to hit you for every infraction. So, it brings with it, the desire to just do what we need to do. There is no need for that push and pull of wills. Life is good for me just as it may be good for you over there. I have my friends, you probably have yours. I can talk, I can go shopping with them or just spend a quiet day at home watching a movie or just doing simple chores. I now like doing those maybe because I rent my own apartment. No one will really clean up after me.
So I'm off to work later. I'll be back tonight. I'll be working the late afternoon shift today and tomorrow. I hope to have a bit of fun. I could fall asleep maybe because my body has to adjust. The only things I'm really looking forward to is writing the next letter and sleeping tonight. That'd be a treat. After the efforts of sleeping during the day, sleeping at night is definitely a treat.
So little sis, hope you enjoy your day. My letters are probably full of gloom and the past. I hope that sprinkles of both every now and then would give you a better picture of my life out here if you do get to read this. Again, I'm always wondering if you'd ever get to write back. All sighs for now.
Yours truly,
Marie
Note: This is another late post.
To My Little Sister - Part 3
March 18, 2015
Dear Rose,
How are you today? I hope all is well and peaceful.
You know, I have good and bad memories of that place - your home for the past 35 years? Just like anything else, the beauty of a product, a place, or a person is always marred by that one bad or awful experience. But before I left, I just had too many bad ones. Those necessarily didn't really happen to me. In fact, so little happened to me compared to you, compared to our companions. Those memories bring a bitter taste to my mouth. l think many times how it would be if one day if I'd see Mona out here. What would it feel like. For sure, I wouldn't feel nothing. She's that one person I truly hate. I wonder now if you've ever come to love her after all these years. It's possible.
Love? It's hard to define what it really is since we grew up without it when we were younger. For me, it's tantamount to care borne from a certain attachment to a person or persons. You're that one person I do care for. I don't know when it started. But I remember not feeling anything akin to it when we were younger. Do you know why I say that? I could watch you and all the others beaten, and I wouldn't feel any remorse. I felt scared yes, but it never was enough to make me brave enough to fight. I don't think I did a lot of things that would cause you or any of the others to suffer for me, so to speak. But there was just so little feeling. There was no urge to fight and tell Mona to stop hurting us. For some girls, there was a frighteningly feeling of glee. I'm ashamed to even admit it now but yes. Remember Teresa. I don't know what she really did for me to not like her at all. So every time she was punished, it gave me some degree of satisfaction, some degree of accomplishment as if I were the one who directly caused it. Shame on me!
Oh well, let's reserve those horrors for another day. Something funny and torturous happened at work today. I had listened to a number of calls and had write-ups for each of them. There came a point when I couldn't see the mouse cursor on my screen, so I lifted it and tried to point it at different files. For some reason, the delete function came up. I had unthinkingly deleted the file I just created and lost saved work, time and energy. I will have to redo those when I come in to the office later. It was just about 10 calls but that's still 10. At least I didn't lose 20 or more. That happened once before to...about 45. I was almost in tears when that happened. But later will be another day.
i still wonder what you do on a daily basis. I hear that all those Monsie takes care of are really cared for, privileged, so to speak. What does she do for you guys? tell you stories? play the piano? or the guitar for you? Beats me. I can't really picture her being the affectionate type - you know...like the type who hugs. No wonder it's taboo there. Imagine me getting the shock of my life when I came out years ago. Part of greeting mom's friends or Ate and Kuya's friends was to kiss them. That was an entirely different experience - a scary one back then. I guess I'll greet you the same way if ever I do get to meet you. I can just picture how you'd be looking at me like I'd gone off the deep end.
Anyways, this is it for today. I'm off to bed now. Hope you enjoy the rest of your day.
Much love,
Marie
Dear Rose,
How are you today? I hope all is well and peaceful.
You know, I have good and bad memories of that place - your home for the past 35 years? Just like anything else, the beauty of a product, a place, or a person is always marred by that one bad or awful experience. But before I left, I just had too many bad ones. Those necessarily didn't really happen to me. In fact, so little happened to me compared to you, compared to our companions. Those memories bring a bitter taste to my mouth. l think many times how it would be if one day if I'd see Mona out here. What would it feel like. For sure, I wouldn't feel nothing. She's that one person I truly hate. I wonder now if you've ever come to love her after all these years. It's possible.
Love? It's hard to define what it really is since we grew up without it when we were younger. For me, it's tantamount to care borne from a certain attachment to a person or persons. You're that one person I do care for. I don't know when it started. But I remember not feeling anything akin to it when we were younger. Do you know why I say that? I could watch you and all the others beaten, and I wouldn't feel any remorse. I felt scared yes, but it never was enough to make me brave enough to fight. I don't think I did a lot of things that would cause you or any of the others to suffer for me, so to speak. But there was just so little feeling. There was no urge to fight and tell Mona to stop hurting us. For some girls, there was a frighteningly feeling of glee. I'm ashamed to even admit it now but yes. Remember Teresa. I don't know what she really did for me to not like her at all. So every time she was punished, it gave me some degree of satisfaction, some degree of accomplishment as if I were the one who directly caused it. Shame on me!
Oh well, let's reserve those horrors for another day. Something funny and torturous happened at work today. I had listened to a number of calls and had write-ups for each of them. There came a point when I couldn't see the mouse cursor on my screen, so I lifted it and tried to point it at different files. For some reason, the delete function came up. I had unthinkingly deleted the file I just created and lost saved work, time and energy. I will have to redo those when I come in to the office later. It was just about 10 calls but that's still 10. At least I didn't lose 20 or more. That happened once before to...about 45. I was almost in tears when that happened. But later will be another day.
i still wonder what you do on a daily basis. I hear that all those Monsie takes care of are really cared for, privileged, so to speak. What does she do for you guys? tell you stories? play the piano? or the guitar for you? Beats me. I can't really picture her being the affectionate type - you know...like the type who hugs. No wonder it's taboo there. Imagine me getting the shock of my life when I came out years ago. Part of greeting mom's friends or Ate and Kuya's friends was to kiss them. That was an entirely different experience - a scary one back then. I guess I'll greet you the same way if ever I do get to meet you. I can just picture how you'd be looking at me like I'd gone off the deep end.
Anyways, this is it for today. I'm off to bed now. Hope you enjoy the rest of your day.
Much love,
Marie
Note: This is a late post hence the difference in dates.
To My Little Sister - Part 2
March 17, 2015
Dear Rose,
I think of you very often. Just last week and the week before, I suddenly found myself crying over you. In fact, I wasn't very sure why. I just knew that I missed you. Funny how all those feelings seem to surface after so many years. I always thought I was hard-hearted. It isn't true. After all those years of pent up emotions and as I grow older, it now just seems a waste of time to continue to hold them back. If I'm happy, why not share my happiness. If I'm sad, why not cry a little and then be done with it? If I'm angry at someone, just face that person and spit out whatever and be friends again. Simple huh? Never thought it'd be this easy but is!
The years in Caryana teach you to cry in silence. Do you know how many times I did? It probably happened so many times to you too. Prayer times were my loneliest moments. I was in front of the altar, crying in my heart while I recited the Psalms of David, the Book of Solomon, and the Words of Wisdom. I could find no consolation. Instead, I pulled my blindfold down to hide the tears that threatened to overflow. They became so wet, I was afraid it wasn't enough to hold all the tears I shed every time.
That inexplicable sadness. I can't say I was total void of happiness. In fact, I treasured every happy moment we could find. What was one moment I remember - eating that powder thingy encased in purple. Do you remember how we'd blow the powder in each other's faces. It tasted just like milk. I think that was one Christmas Day when we were about 4 or 5. Nagi and Sandy were still the ones taking care of us.
I don't know if you'll ever get to read these letters. Maybe you just might do so one day or you may never. At least, this is an avenue of release too just as I would like to share things that happen to me on a daily basis with you just as if you were with me.
I hope there's someone to exchange the letters with. Sadly, there isn't for now. Anyways, that's one happy thing I'm doing. I'll just keep on writing and writing.
Do you know - sadness and depression are the worst things that can happen but they do happen even to the best of us. If I had succeeded in ending my life those many years ago, I suppose I wouldn't be here to write you this letter. The only thing that stopped me was the fear of pain. Funny huh? After all those hard blows when we were younger, I'm still afraid of pain. Yes, I don't have to pretend out here anymore. I don't have to stifle my cries and pray hard that my tears and my red nose wouldn't betray my pain and sadness. I can cry as loud as I want now (but God forbid people hear me - it would be an utter shame.)
I hope all is still well with you. Enough about me! I hope you woke up happy today. Did you? I can't imagine what you might me doing. Perhaps running errands? Maybe. I hope you have a great day today. I'll be off to bed in a few.
Big Sis,
Marie
Dear Rose,
I think of you very often. Just last week and the week before, I suddenly found myself crying over you. In fact, I wasn't very sure why. I just knew that I missed you. Funny how all those feelings seem to surface after so many years. I always thought I was hard-hearted. It isn't true. After all those years of pent up emotions and as I grow older, it now just seems a waste of time to continue to hold them back. If I'm happy, why not share my happiness. If I'm sad, why not cry a little and then be done with it? If I'm angry at someone, just face that person and spit out whatever and be friends again. Simple huh? Never thought it'd be this easy but is!
The years in Caryana teach you to cry in silence. Do you know how many times I did? It probably happened so many times to you too. Prayer times were my loneliest moments. I was in front of the altar, crying in my heart while I recited the Psalms of David, the Book of Solomon, and the Words of Wisdom. I could find no consolation. Instead, I pulled my blindfold down to hide the tears that threatened to overflow. They became so wet, I was afraid it wasn't enough to hold all the tears I shed every time.
That inexplicable sadness. I can't say I was total void of happiness. In fact, I treasured every happy moment we could find. What was one moment I remember - eating that powder thingy encased in purple. Do you remember how we'd blow the powder in each other's faces. It tasted just like milk. I think that was one Christmas Day when we were about 4 or 5. Nagi and Sandy were still the ones taking care of us.
I don't know if you'll ever get to read these letters. Maybe you just might do so one day or you may never. At least, this is an avenue of release too just as I would like to share things that happen to me on a daily basis with you just as if you were with me.
I hope there's someone to exchange the letters with. Sadly, there isn't for now. Anyways, that's one happy thing I'm doing. I'll just keep on writing and writing.
Do you know - sadness and depression are the worst things that can happen but they do happen even to the best of us. If I had succeeded in ending my life those many years ago, I suppose I wouldn't be here to write you this letter. The only thing that stopped me was the fear of pain. Funny huh? After all those hard blows when we were younger, I'm still afraid of pain. Yes, I don't have to pretend out here anymore. I don't have to stifle my cries and pray hard that my tears and my red nose wouldn't betray my pain and sadness. I can cry as loud as I want now (but God forbid people hear me - it would be an utter shame.)
I hope all is still well with you. Enough about me! I hope you woke up happy today. Did you? I can't imagine what you might me doing. Perhaps running errands? Maybe. I hope you have a great day today. I'll be off to bed in a few.
Big Sis,
Marie
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