Musings on the Road not Taken by Robert Frost - written on Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Musings on the Road not Taken by Robert Frost

This poem has always been one of my favorites. More so now that the underlying message holds true value for me. I was in 4th year High School. I can still recall how Mrs. Mary Anne Eala (everyone's fave English Teacher) nurtured our love of literature.

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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
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This has a lot of significance for me because that's what I did. I took the road less travelled. In this culture where most would rather stay at home and enjoy the comforts of having free food, free lodging, etc. I chose to live on my own at 21. 13 years later, I still have no regrets. It has not always been easy.

When I look back at how difficult it was and how I had to rely on my friends for help I cannot help but be humbled. This is what keeps me content. When at times I feel that I need more, that I am discontented with my lot in life, I look back to the time I left home with almost nothing except my clothes, my bit of cash and no idea of where to stay. Stubborness does have its rewards. If I would be given the chance, I would have done it all over again.

Clan of the Cave Bear - Book Review by Jean Auel - written on Saturday, June 19, 2010

I came across a comment for Jean's Clan of the Cave Bear where there were a lot of questions about the authenticity of the historical facts she had in the book. It surprised me as the spine of the book clearly states it's a work of fiction. So why all the negative comments? 
Personally, I think this book and those that followed may not have done justice to historical facts but it did give light to a lot of facts that are still predominant in a lot of societies today. Like in the case of how most cultures view women and what their roles are in society. It is a beautiful story of one woman's survival to find her own niche. 
This is a moving saga about people and relationships. Here, Jean takes us back to prehistoric times and sweeps us up in the story of Ayla. She is left orphaned at 5. Left wandering in search of her parents, she comes across the "clan". She is adopted by Iza, the clan's medicine woman and her brother Creb, the Mogur (Shaman). Though they try their best to teach her their ways, Ayla instinctively knows she is different. It definitely is a gripping story.  I not only read this first book but all 5 books.  This is a long read - 495 pages if you read the soft bound version. But it's definitely a page turner. Breath-taking and definitely entertaining.

This was written on Saturday, June 19, 2010 - from one of my other blogs

I came home at around 11:30 am today. I slept at the office for about 3 hours as I had no sleep the previous day. I didn't want to ride the bus going home and fall asleep only to wake up in some part of the city I wasn't familiar with. So to play safe, I slept off my fatigue first. 
The sleeping quarters in the office is not exactly your haven of rest with comfortable beds in an air-conditioned room. We just moved to the new one about 3 weeks ago so everything is temporary. Our sleeping room looks like we were in the rescue center where the mattresses are strewn every which way and you get to sleep on one on a first come first served basis. I count myself lucky because I always get one when I come in at the most opportune time - 3 am or 5 am. I still count myself lucky if I don't have someone else's feet beside my face when I wake up, or wake up because of someone else's snoring. So it's all good really. 
There was nothing much else to do. I came home and was really thinking of helping Jessa to clean up the house, wipe the windows, clean my room and all. But it all just seemed too much. So I went straight to bed and woke up at around 9 pm. So much for a Saturday evening. But that is what weekends are for anyways right? Rest. So I guess I will put off the cleaning until tomorrow morning. This way I will refreshed. I will go back to bed again once I'm done with all the blogging. 
I am quite new at this thing. I've never been one to enjoy blogging but I enjoy reading other people's blogs. But I guess this is a good way to keep things in a journal. I used to enjoy writing before and haven't had the time to do so. I normally write the old fashioned way. I think I had about 4 or 5 journals done when those got destroyed by last year's storm (Ondoy). So it made no sense to re write those..like I could remember all. I'm sure I've written many things down during my spur of the moment moods. 
Nowadays, I wake up or go home and log in to Yahoo messenger to see if my honey is online - which he hasn't in about a week. I guess he is has difficulty again connecting to the internet. So I will try tomorrow.
Yesterday, Tita Nelie and I went shopping for stuff for my bathroom. I have a very small one by the way. Like 2 by 1.5 feet I think. I can just picture myself kissing the wall while I take a shower. It's a joke of course. But it still is very small for me. I guess I could compensate if I had a few of the comforts I should really see in a bathroom like a simple toilet seat with a very small toilet, a showerhead and all. Next project on my list is either my living room or dining room. I just hope I don't tire of the design in a short span of time as I will really save up to decorate my small space in the next few months. I am thinking of having a zen like design for my living room. At least, I really get to relax when I come home.

So I guess this is back to bed for me for now.

On Chardy - Written on Saturday, June 19, 2010

On Chardy...

Someone else's death is always something one can ponder about. The death of an older person is somehow always easier to accept than that of a younger person. So when I got a text message that Chardy had passed away on June 16, 2010, I was actually on a bus on my way home, I suddenly burst into tears. Previously, I received news that he was confined due to some complication to appendicitis. 
My friends and I had never really had the chance to go visit him for a number of reasons. But the most difficult thing to accept was how young he was. He just turned 24 in May of this year. I will always remember him as a very jolly person. 
My stint with him was back in 2008 when we were still working in Ameriprise. Me with the Brokerage Service recovery Group and he, with the Online Data Capture group. Our groups sat adjacent to each other. And our days were filled with a lot of laughs. 
Needless to say, our jobs weren't the easiest. We worked like accountants, working to process cases, computing, analyzing and then computing again. All who work in this kind of job will have to agree that no matter how challenging a case may be, we could all be smitten by fatigue or just plain drowsiness as we worked the graveyard shift. But with Chardy, he made it easier for us with his jokes, his light banter on sex and anthing he could talk about under the sun. He had a very uplifting personality.
I've always been one to easily laugh at even the smallest things. Chardy did just that. He made me laugh, he made me smile. He made everyone happy. This is the way I will always remember him.
After a few months, we moved separate ways. But when I met up with his friends we would always mention something silly he did in passing. Just like the time he drank Clorox - I believe, because he was just simply tired of life. How could a happy person be tired of life? 
I guess he had problems of his own just like everyone else did. But he hid it well. From the little that I knew of him, he was a very industrious person. 
He worked very hard in school and did very well, got hired by our company, which wasn't the easiest to get into and even got assigned to our account - a financial one at that. And I guess he did well on his own. He did have a penchant for calling in late to work or unscheduled absences but he was never outright rude and definitely did not have an attitude problem. So it was just so sad that we lost him.

So here I go, thinking about my life and assessing it once again. I have my quirks, yes. I know I am not always all that my friends and workmates think me to be. But I am human. It makes me ponder about how fragile life really is and how one can be called to Him anytime.

I will soon be 34 years old. What else could I say for myself. Have I done enough good deeds. Have I made some people happy. I know I have hurt some people in the long run. And I hope to atone for those little by little - my mom, some of my other friends. I have to always work at being a better person.

So this is it Chardy. Thank you for making so many people happy. While I was talking to your mom yesterday, I could tell she was very very proud of you. You could not be anything less for her. You were perfect, just like any other mom will think of her son or daughter. But it was different for you. She recognized all your efforts to study really well. You were her hope. But most of all, you made her happy. I realized where you got your bubbly personality. It was from her. She was so easy to talk to. She made no qualms that she had money and at times would tell us how difficult it was to see you through, her doubts about paying your bills, where she would get the funds to pay all. But in the long run - God provided. So don't worry Chardy dear. I hope I will be able to help in my own way. People will help your parents I am sure of that.

So rest in peace my friend.

Sun - written on Saturday, June 19, 2010

Nothing beats the aweful summer heat in the Philippines than enjoying a weekend at a modest hotel with a swimming pool. That's what I just did on May 30-31, 2010. I had gone swimming about twice before and never really thought about buying a new swimming outfit. But being the let's just say the thrifty woman that I am, I thought it wouldn't hurt to wear the same outfit to yet my third swimming spree. Mind you! If I had a swimming pool in my home, I'd probably swim laps everyday. Laps? Not really.

I've always loved the water hence swimming. I am not even close to any average swimming athlete. I can barely even cross a 50 meter pool without stopping for a breath. But I never really cared. So much for the summers my parents enrolled me in swimming classes. The most I really got out of those was learning how to float on my back and to dog paddle. The only thing being important was to float.

'Forgive me"

I honestly don't know where to start.  My life has been one long journey of learning how to forgive.  I can't forget the past but I am learning how to forgive.  It isn't an easy journey to make.

I've been hurt many times over but I am learning that I can also forgive.  I was born and raised in an era where one could not even dare speak up to parents.  But I have.  I've been brash, I've been bitter I've been everything I'm not supposed to be.  I've have fallen short a million times.  My very first reaction is to always point the blame at someone else.

I've always expected my parents to say, "I'm sorry, I forgive you too." But that's never happened.  I grew up expecting that they would do so one day.  It was difficult for me to realize that they never will and now it doesn't matter anymore.  It doesn't matter.  We've fought so many times, I can't count.  We've exchanged many hurtful words.  I don't know when I'll be able to face mom and say, "I'm sorry that I hurt you."  Like she always says, I'll never really know what's she's lived through and I know very well that part of the life she's lived has been one of love and she's loved me the best way she could.  So why is it so hard for me to let go? Why is it so hard to forgive other people as well.

I vowed to myself that one day, I'd be able to face my children and accept the fact that I'm not perfect.  I've asked forgiveness from other people except my family.  Why is it so much easier to do that with other people and so difficult to do with people you truly love?

Would you believe it?  A friend's 3 year old son taught me the value of forgiveness.  I can't even begin to describe the absolution I felt.  Why was it so easy for me to kneel on one knee, look him in the eye and say that I was sorry that I had hurt him? Children do not harbor hatred.  There is no past and there is no future in their minds.  There is only the now. The little boy looked at me questioningly and simply said, 'it's okay Auntie Marie' and gave me a real tight hug and a brief kiss.  His simple gesture broke a wall of defense in me. I had carefully built that wall and he tore it down with a simple, 'it's okay.' How much more beautiful can it ever get.  Since that day, almost 12 years ago, I have tried to do the same thing.  One thing's for sure - I am no longer shy and no longer afraid to admit I'm wrong.

I'm not completely over everything. I still have a long long way to go and it may take many more years to get over my horrendous past.  I can't let go and I want revenge on the people who've hurt and abused me.  I'm talking of other people - not my family.   My mom is the least of my worries.  Any hurt I thought she gave was just in my mind.  I'm still hoping that in time, I'd be able to hug my mom back and just tell her that I love her and ask for forgiveness.

When will all this misery end!

I signed up for this:
PETITION: We want the French, Mexican and United States Governments to stop anyone using puppies and kittens as shark and alligator bait. Together we WILL put an end to this!
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I signed up for this not just because I'm fond of animals but because it's just wrong!  If animals had voices, what would we hear them say?  My heart bleeds when I see stories and pictures about cruelty to animals and to children.  It's as perverse as it can get. Why????

The picture that came with this was one with a dog that had 2 large hooks pierced cleanly through his snout.  This dog didn't look like a castaway.  It looked like a cared for animal.  I don't really care if it was cared for or not.  No animal, whether a stray or not, deserves any type of cruelty from us humans.  From what I've seen so far, I despair and think that it's us humans who've become more like animals in our way of thinking and in our actions.  I am ashamed to even think of myself as human if my entire race thinks nothing of cruel acts.

I once had someone ask me why I cared so much for dogs, cats and other animals.  They don't have a heart.    My retort, that's what most think!  But why can dogs and cats love so fiercely? Why can they forgive and forget even if we unintentionally hurt them?  Why do they still trust us even if some intentionally hurt them?

I took care of 2 dogs who were almost at death's door.  They came to me, literally skin and bones.  That was what was left of them.  One was Greg.  The other was Mushu.

Mushu was a pup who my driver almost ran over on my way home because he was sprawled out in the street.  I stopped him just in time.  I jumped out of the car and ran to where he was lying and nudged him with the tip of my shoe.  He didn't react and I thought that he was dead for real.  When I picked him up, he moved a bit.  I carried him, fleas, bruises and all.  I later learned that some tricycle driver had run over him and literally fled the scene.  His owner had no funds to bring him to the hospital and left him to crawl around in pain. It pains you to read this?  READ ON!

There was not a part of his body that was not covered in fleas.  He was literally black with all the fleas and ticks.   To add to that, he had this wound on his thigh from the tire that ran over him.  I rushed him to the nearest vet clinic.  His condition, I was told, was "hopeless" and  the interns told me to make him as comfortable as I could because he could just die anytime. They couldn't really help him and my bills from the looks of him would just soar unnecessarily.  I was almost in tears.  I can't even begin to describe how sad I felt.  I know some people would think me crazy but they can say all they want for all I cared. Die?  I knew it was true but I didn't want to give up.  I went to a pet shop to buy him food plus flea and tick spray, and vitamin B for his muscles.  I was going to nurse him back to health even if it killed me.  I was not going to let this pup die!

After a week - he could crawl on his own.  He was crawling but he was a lot stronger.  After a couple of weeks he was even better.  He was the reason I rushed home from work every single day.  I would greet him and he would come crawling to me.  I brushed the little hair that was sprouting from his skin, exercised his legs and just cuddled him so that he'd feel loved and cared for.

On the 3rd week, I came home and was so startled to hear such a loud and long whelp. Dear Lord in heaven, it was my Mushu, greeting me.  I was stunned.  He never made a sound during the 1st couple of weeks and I thought he would never ever "talk".  He was on the road to recovery after that.  After a time, he could wag his tail (it was paralyzed) , he could walk better, and he loved to wait for me to come home. He grew into a beautiful dog with light brown and shiny hair and had the sweetest disposition.   I had him for 3 years.

That's the story of my Mushu.  We both were through so many ups and downs - you name it!  He became a mischievous dog, eating even my paints and all.  He was on death's door another time from licking something rusty.  Boy!  But it was love that made him stay alive for as long as he could.

He made me very happy from  August 2007 until September 2010.  He grew up to be a beautiful dog and a lot of people said he looked like a labrador and was as big as one.  He left as suddenly as he came.  But I am sure he has a good place for me up there in doggy heaven and remembers our happy days.