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.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
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!
*****************************************************************************
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.
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!
*****************************************************************************
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.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Ghosts of the Past - Part 3
Who was to say, that someone with so angelic a face would be capable of inflicting the most cruel pain. We had our arguments of what 'cruel' really meant. She almost spat in all of our faces when at 8 and 9 years of age, we were in the early stages of rebellion and accused her of cruel acts. She would hiss at us and lash out with her all powerful leather belt - "you all think I do this out of cruelty?" We all thought and felt she did. She was clearly on the road to self denial and we were paying the price. How we hated how she'd swing at us and not even care what part of our body she'td hit. She loved hitting us in places that were hidden from the public eye. But yes, to get back to the topic of cruelty, everything she did to us - fasting, having us memorize passages from the Psalms, Proverbs, the Book of Solomon, etc, were all acts of love. Even when we were black and blue and bleeding, to her, it was still an act of love.
I don't even remember how she came to be part of our lives. I just remember her being there. I remember how at the very start, she wouldn't really hit us with anything but would not let us talk to each other. We were 4 or 5 year old girls and boys. Imagine how difficult that was for us. One word, and she'd bend our fingers and our arms at unnatural angles and tie it in place until our joints became black and blue. This was how she instilled fear in all of us. The way she bent our arms behind our backs, it hurt so much and the more we cried, the tighter she'd tie us. We had no choice but to just shut up. We didn't really want to wait to know what happened if we didn't keep quiet. For all we knew, she could have broken our fingers and our arms. This was a method of punishment she enjoyed and it was the start of many more horrors.
Mona, grew up in one of the affluent families in Manila. Her parents were from the old rich families. She, along with her siblings studied in private schools. They lived in a private and well guarded subdivision. I don't know why she became the monster we knew her to be. I keep thinking to myself just how horrid her childhood may have been for her to think of all the abuse she dealt us.
Ironically, I studied in the very same school where she studied so many years ago. I grew academically, spiritually, psychologically in the love and care of the Assumption nuns. They knew about my past and just like me, they were literally dumbfounded that a student of theirs would commit such cruel acts. There was nothing in the curriculum that could have even hinted at the kind of life or the kind of treatment she gave us. All that had nothing to do with what we learned in school. I guess, it will always be a mystery to me. That's why I always think that there must have been something dark about her childhood that made her the way she is.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Tobi Wobi (May 4, 2002 - December 24, 2011) - blog created on December 24, 2011
Tobi wasn't my cat. He was my friend's cat. But I loved him like my own. We visited a friend's house with no intent to bring home any pet. I was listening to my friend talk with her classmate when there was this cat who kept purring and rubbing himself against our arms and legs. Needless to say, we caught our breaths and were enthralled by his cuteness. We brought him home with us. That was September 4, 2002 and he was only 4 months old.
He was loved, he was cared for and he was spoiled! He was a cat's cat and a dog's cat. He ruled the house. The first few days, he learned just how to poo in his very own litter box made out of a discarded cardboard box with crumpled newspapers. Smart kitty!
I loved the way he would sit right plop right smack in the middle of a paper I was writing or a book I was reading. It didn't matter to him. He knew full well we would never respond in an angry manner or push him away. My friend and I kind of joked about pushing him away or whining that we didn't want him doing it. But deep down, we loved how he sat right down and looked up with his big google eyes and our hearts would simply melt.
He's gone yet I still think about him a lot. I think about the time he used to sit right in the middle of the street and meow like we were never coming back. It always broke my heart to hear him cry like that and I'd run back to him, scoop him up, hug him and kiss his little nose. He loved it when I did that judging by his loud purrs.
I thought back too to the time he got lost and my friend and I searched for him for days. We printed out posters and offered a small reward to anyone who would help us and return him. He came back home after a week. He never left after that. I guess he had his day filled with adventure but it wasn't the type he wanted ever to have again.
I just miss him so bad :(
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