I decided to follow my heart, once again. But this time, in a different light or should I say under a different lime light this time. Maybe, it's the only way I can come out of bankruptcy if I write a hit television series.
Sto. Domingo.
I can see it now on the screen, how it the show will start with a flashback of the good ol' days. We need to remember how it was, when life was simple and full of hope. There's just too much violence on tv nowadays, such decadence in Filipino entertainment. Too much commercialism that capitalizes on the viewer's desperation. Viewers are taught the wrong values.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Birth Rights
It's my birth mother's 40th day after she passed away today. I never really knew her, how she was like as a mother. They say she was a good, loving and kind mother according to my siblings. As I was growing up, I would see her once in awhile never really knowing that she was my birth mother. Everybody kept it a big secret. I was brought up knowing that she was my aunt and all my siblings were my cousins. When they were around during family reunions, my birth mother would always try to reach out and touch me ... stay close and just stare. She would watch closely and listen to whatever I had to say. When I'm close enough when I would take her hand and put it on my forehead, she would always pull me close ... gently and would try to sniff me. (Sniffing is a Filipino thing. When you kiss, you sniff. Taking out the elders hand and putting it on your forehead is also a Filipino thing, a sign of respect for whoever is older than you are.)
When she passed away 40 days ago, all my relatives said that I was the only one she was waiting for ... she was in her deathbed. I don't know what came over me but I just decided to bring my daughter to her and pay respect. We stayed with her for about half an hour with my daughter asking questions and me answering. Like me, my daughter too is adopted. Unlike me, my daughter knows she is adopted. It is for the best of the child to know that she is adopted right from the start, speaking from experience. I found out when I was 24 years old. It took a lot of bottles of beer, scotch, vodka, tequila and a lot of hours with my therapist. I never had the guts to come face to face out front with my birth mother. Just as my dad passed away, ambushed without clearing air between us regarding the lie that I was adopted and he was not my birth father. That is the biggest hole inside my heart, the numbing pain and frustrating loneliness inside of me that he left behind. As I stared at my birth mother that night, in my thoughts I apologized for not having the affinity. I do regret not growing up with her and probably my other siblings. It could have been fun growing up in a much simpler life, poor materially but probably filled with much affection. My Dad actually showered me with love as I was the apple of his eye. Losing him, that's the worse thing that ever happened ... Losing my Mom could be the worst. My birth mother, I'm really sorry. That was what I said to her in my thoughts. After a couple of nights, she passed away. They all joked about it that the stone has been passed on. (Darna! A Filipino story about a little girl with super powers who swallowed a stone.)
Today I had a little chat with my birth father. A nephew's concubine approached me and said that my birth father's wish before he dies is that he speaks to me. Perfect timing for such drama in Filipino tele-novelas but only on the condition that he does not pass away after the talk. My birth father did most of the , he was the one who wanted to tell me a lot of things. He said that he never wanted to give me away, nothing that I never heard before nor never knew. I just wanted to make him happy. I knew he needed to hold me, hug me in the 51 years that passed. He needs peace. Just as we all need peace inside of us. I have this smile in my face right now as I am typing away.
God bless 'nang and have a safe journey. Peace be with you and God rest your soul.
When she passed away 40 days ago, all my relatives said that I was the only one she was waiting for ... she was in her deathbed. I don't know what came over me but I just decided to bring my daughter to her and pay respect. We stayed with her for about half an hour with my daughter asking questions and me answering. Like me, my daughter too is adopted. Unlike me, my daughter knows she is adopted. It is for the best of the child to know that she is adopted right from the start, speaking from experience. I found out when I was 24 years old. It took a lot of bottles of beer, scotch, vodka, tequila and a lot of hours with my therapist. I never had the guts to come face to face out front with my birth mother. Just as my dad passed away, ambushed without clearing air between us regarding the lie that I was adopted and he was not my birth father. That is the biggest hole inside my heart, the numbing pain and frustrating loneliness inside of me that he left behind. As I stared at my birth mother that night, in my thoughts I apologized for not having the affinity. I do regret not growing up with her and probably my other siblings. It could have been fun growing up in a much simpler life, poor materially but probably filled with much affection. My Dad actually showered me with love as I was the apple of his eye. Losing him, that's the worse thing that ever happened ... Losing my Mom could be the worst. My birth mother, I'm really sorry. That was what I said to her in my thoughts. After a couple of nights, she passed away. They all joked about it that the stone has been passed on. (Darna! A Filipino story about a little girl with super powers who swallowed a stone.)
Today I had a little chat with my birth father. A nephew's concubine approached me and said that my birth father's wish before he dies is that he speaks to me. Perfect timing for such drama in Filipino tele-novelas but only on the condition that he does not pass away after the talk. My birth father did most of the , he was the one who wanted to tell me a lot of things. He said that he never wanted to give me away, nothing that I never heard before nor never knew. I just wanted to make him happy. I knew he needed to hold me, hug me in the 51 years that passed. He needs peace. Just as we all need peace inside of us. I have this smile in my face right now as I am typing away.
God bless 'nang and have a safe journey. Peace be with you and God rest your soul.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Clearing the cobwebs
It seems to be an annual thing now, this blog of mine. Well, it doesn't necessarily mean I had nothing to blog about nor I don't have time to blog. I was for a while very, very depressed. I thought that the things that happened early this year happened to take my mind of this depressed state I have put myself in ... to move on and face what's here and now. Things that are right in front of my face. There, like snap out of it. You're depressed because you have nothing better to do that kind of thing. Get your fat-ass off the bed. You look ugly, you feel ugly and worth nothing. Yeah, I remember blogging something nasty somewhere. And here I am again.
I have no more space in my mind for issues that I can not deal with upfront and in a sanely fashion. I am beginning to lose it or grasp the big picture. It's either that or I just want the easy way out. I don't know any more. I don't care any less. I'm just tired and weary forever trying. Can somebody please lighten the load?
Wake up call! Hello ... anybody home? Earth calling Mars. Houston, we have a problem.
Liar, liar, liar. What else? What is all this name calling and where else could it possibly lead to? We all been lied to. We all lied during our lifetime. Truth hurts actually and sometimes, that is the root of why people lie. Does it make us better persons? Heck no but we all do it anyways. To spare people we love of what could possibly hurt them and the people we lie to, they hurt the most when the truth comes out. Why, geez ... I don't know.
I went to church and finally for a long span of time, attended mass. I actually attended one and a half and stayed the half part at the Blessed Sacrament. Hoping for some kind of miracle I suppose, lighten the load somehow, clear the cobwebs of my mind.
Twas, I don't know ... call it a sign ... an enlightenment of some sort. The 6pm priest's sermon was about Alzheimer's. All about forgetting and not thinking ... I guess, I did not think. I forgot. And I also now realize what matters most and what and needs to be prioritized like who is on top of my list. I might just finally get out of this depressed state after all.
Sorry ... duh?
I have no more space in my mind for issues that I can not deal with upfront and in a sanely fashion. I am beginning to lose it or grasp the big picture. It's either that or I just want the easy way out. I don't know any more. I don't care any less. I'm just tired and weary forever trying. Can somebody please lighten the load?
Wake up call! Hello ... anybody home? Earth calling Mars. Houston, we have a problem.
Liar, liar, liar. What else? What is all this name calling and where else could it possibly lead to? We all been lied to. We all lied during our lifetime. Truth hurts actually and sometimes, that is the root of why people lie. Does it make us better persons? Heck no but we all do it anyways. To spare people we love of what could possibly hurt them and the people we lie to, they hurt the most when the truth comes out. Why, geez ... I don't know.
I went to church and finally for a long span of time, attended mass. I actually attended one and a half and stayed the half part at the Blessed Sacrament. Hoping for some kind of miracle I suppose, lighten the load somehow, clear the cobwebs of my mind.
Twas, I don't know ... call it a sign ... an enlightenment of some sort. The 6pm priest's sermon was about Alzheimer's. All about forgetting and not thinking ... I guess, I did not think. I forgot. And I also now realize what matters most and what and needs to be prioritized like who is on top of my list. I might just finally get out of this depressed state after all.
Sorry ... duh?