Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Learning something new about yourself never ceases.

I feel that I'm finally on my own-well, sort of. I'm currently living in a nice suburban house with my friend and his brother. We each have our chores to do-my friend drives the car, his brother takes out the trash on monday nights, and I cook from time to time. We all do the groceries and our own laundry, and I have yet to clean the house. I pay rent so each and every purchase I make is carefully budgeted-well, at least I try to. It may all seem so ordinary, but I'm having fun. It's a totally different environment and it's very quiet. It feels like a break from the busy, intoxicating makati life I used to have.

Like most suburban neighborhoods, it's quiet. When I wake up every morning, I go out to soak up the morning sun and smoke a cigarette with my butt freezing cold. I watch as the seagulls fly by and the cat trying to sneak past me. And when we get home and go in each of our rooms, I look around the room which will be my sanctuary at least for the coming months-still in disbelief that I'm here. I am beginning a new adventure and continuing the journey of my life. I wonder what could be next.

Apart from the guys shouting while they play Final Fantasy 11 and the bit of noise from the TV in my room, I'm surrounded by a different form of silence. I always enjoy being lost in my thoughts wherever I am and I love how the environment can influence their flow. My current environment is helping me relax and set my goals straight. For a very long time, I've been ambitious and imagined a high powered corporate life for myself-highly materialistic and vanity driven. But now I just want to make enough money to be able to live comfortably and enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

Am I getting old? I don't think so. Perhaps, I've just had enough of living by the "work hard, party hard" motto and ending up broke 5 days before the next pay day. I'm tired of slaving the week and getting wasted on weekends. Though I don't regret all those fantastic and wonderful nights out with Cristina and Margie and friends at where else?-Capones! Am I growing up? I've been growing. I look around at the younger people around me and sometimes I wish I could turn back time and be at their age again. But then, I don't think I would like to trade learning for youth. I am where I am supposed to be. Situations and experiences have to vary to help us become who we want to be.

Thursday, November 25, 2004

From time to time, I maka drastic decisions. I like to surprise people and more so, I like to surprise myself. Though some of them have gotten me into trouble. But then they're there to spice things up and make life more interesting. I mean wouldn't it be boring if you always made the well thought out and the right decisions all the time? Unpredictability sometimes bring unexpected pleasure and good results. This is not to say that every impulsive choice is justifiable. I think I've made so many mistakes and have already grown to know when to make such decisions or when to step back and think it over first.

My decision to leave, on the other hand, was a drastic and yet well thought out. Perhaps it's not so much a drastic but a riskier one. I was presented with a choice on whether to stay on the safer side of things and live a life that is more or less predictable or to take the road less travelled-to a place unfamiliar, but presents opportunities that can possibly offer me the life I so desired. During the time I was contemplating on which choice to choose, it was like I was at a crossroads where in one path clearly showed what was at the end of it and the other was blurred. I was scared and yet excited to explore the unknown. But at one point, my fear was getting the better of me and an unfortunate event took place for me to realize what I had to do. It also inadvertently revealed to me what I think my purpose is in life.

And so here I am in a place unknown to me. I am immersing myself in a new lifestyle and a different environment. I am not scared, but what I fear is not being able to fulfill my realized destiny. So many things can be distracting and I'm trying to be mindful of what I have to do to fulfill my dream and my promise to Berta. It's like now, my dream and that promise had been intertwined. And that promise to Berta had been intended for her to see, but death is not an excuse for me to disregard it. I know that deep in my heart that she will witness it elsewhere. I guess also that it is a way of imparting my gratitude to her for the things she had shared and shown me. I only pray that I fulfill it.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

How do you say good bye to someone who didn’t intend a farewell?
I understand that we all have to leave sometime, but this sometime seems too soon
So many plans and so many experiences that the future holds
Her journey suddenly ended, while a chapter of my life was about to start
And that chapter included so many memories that were yet to be made

She’s home and that I know
She did not die, but only made a different transformation
Her spirit is free of the sufferings of this earth
Her faith, strength and perseverance opened my eyes to miracles
Her love-I feel and my love-she knows

I just miss her so much
She is a sister to an only child
And a friend to who had mostly known loneliness to be her companion
A person that helped me realize my purpose
And a promise I made her, I must fulfill for my gratitude


Tuesday, November 09, 2004

I always hear about the death of other people's loved ones and we're saddened at their loss for a brief moment and then for us, life goes on. I always thought that grief was series of feelings that came in through stages - shock, denial, anger, sorrow and then finally, letting go. It was only when it finally happened to me that grief was something that I cannot even define by words. Try as I might to make sense of it and understand it, I couldn't. It was a series of feelings that cannot be labeled, but only felt. It is in a sense a different kind of intense confusion.

Last Sunday evening, I found out that my best friend Berta passed away. We weren’t life long friends, but we became very close during college. For some reason we just clicked and hung out almost 24 hours a day and 7 days a week. We never ran out of anything to talk about and we did a lot of things together. We were there for each other’s wonderful moments and heart aches about guys. We went out and enjoyed life with Kares, Rica and Mina. We talked and wondered about our future plans. Our few fights never even lasted a day. I remember that I would always pick her up for school, hung out in between classes, take her home, pick her up to go out then take her home again and then we’d call each other on the phone to talk some more. I would even take her to the barber shop and me – not having showered, to get her hair cut and I’d instruct the barber on how she wanted it done. She was in a sense an obsessive compulsive person. We lived and enjoyed our college days.

She was seldom home and always with me and I wondered why. It was one evening when she asked me to pick her up that she poured out her family problems. She was having fights with her sister and it became so intense that she asked to live with me. My house had always been open to people. You see my mother is to me – the best mother in the world. She welcomed Berta with open arms. And so she lived with us in our tiny townhouse, but during the day, Berta would go home to sleep in the afternoon. I guess in a sense she missed her home, but could only stay there when her sister was not around.

One day I found out from Kares that acid was thrown on Berta and that she was rushed to the hospital. I thought it was only a minor injury as I rushed to the emergency room of Makati Med. Acid was thrown on her face and she had swallowed some of it. She looked like she was only sunburned. As I was crying and holding her hand, she still manage to say something to make me laugh, I just don’t remember what it was. That was one of the things about Berta; she always tried to make people feel better in spite of a terrible situation.

I tried to comfort Berta – telling her that she would get better in a week as I thought in my mind. But things did not get better in a week, instead her condition got worse. I remember visiting her at around 4 in the morning a week after the incident happened seeing her face literally the color blue. Later on I started to find out that the type of acid that was thrown on her deformed her face reduced the size of her nostrils, mouth and contracted her throat and caused her to lose her sight. She constantly had to be pain killers and took sleeping pills to help her sleep. She had numerous operations for her face and to expand her mouth and throat. On certain instances she almost died. She was in so much pain that at one point she was already taking morphine.

All that time at the hospital she was constantly surrounded by her family, friends and strangers, and nurses who gave her comfort at the times when we we’re not there. So many people cared and preached God to her and that gave her strength to bear the tremendous physical, emotional and mental pain. I, for one am grateful for that. That time, her faith in God was beginning to solidify. I think God was helping her see more despite her physical blindness.

After a very long time in the hospital, she was finally discharged and able to go home. Her family had to go through a difficult adjustment and so began the numerous tantrums, leaving the house to live at Pastor Mark’s and to live with me. She then tried to commit suicide, but thank God it never succeeded. Despite that time of chaos, she was starting to develop a wonderful and affectionate relationship with her mother. She was finally getting that sense of closeness that she had long sought for. They would of course, fight from time to time, but always made up. She loved her very much.

Despite her disability, Berta never allowed herself to become helpless. She and her family worked hard to seek medical and financial help. Blessings poured all over – money and support came from family, friends and strangers. And a doctor from John Hopkins responded that he would treat her for free! Berta was featured in a newspaper and in the local TV show “Pipol”. Her story was exceptional, but her faith and strength was awesome. Miracles were happening left and right and I always believed that they would continue to because her faith was tremendous.

When was physically stronger, we would go out with friends, go shopping and we went on out of town trip. She taught me how to guide her, but whenever we would be at the mall and we would have to take the escalator, I always felt that I would have a heart attack- fearful of the timing that I would have to make to guide her on the right step of the ascending and descending staircase. Mind you, we would laugh about it. She also made jokes about her disability to make things light. She had a one of a kind sense of humor that makes me smile whenever I remember our times together.

The time came that she left for the states and although I would miss her, I was happy for her. We would talk on the phone and email each other. She got a job at the National Federation for the Blind in Baltimore and I think through one of the programs that she was involved in; she met Justin who later on became her husband. She would email pictures to friends and through the numerous plastic surgeries; her face was starting to take shape again. She was happy and she looked very healthy. She then developed an eventual American accent and it was cool. She continuously involved herself in programs and traveled. She and Justin got their own place and she planned to continue her studies. She always stayed in touch with family.

The last time we spoke was on my birthday. She never forgot to call during holidays and on my birthdays. We kept tabs on what was going on in each others lives generally. We weren’t that much in touch after that and it was my fault. I always intended on calling her but I had taken that for granted. Her birthday was on September 20 and I emailed her, telling her that I would call but I didn’t. I regret that very much.

Then last Sunday happened. I found out from Tita Geri that Berta had passed away. I rushed to our friend Candice’s house where we gathered to find out what had happened. She and Justin were already in bed and Berta got up to go to the bathroom and fell. She said she was okay and went back to bed. She then had a seizure and was rushed to the hospital. And she began a different journey. She went to heaven.

I’m still somewhat in denial. I would like to think that she’s just in the states and that I would visit her next year. I will miss her, but I know deep in my heart, that she was happy here and even happier in heaven. She, for me, is the living testimony that miracles do happen. I remembered one evening when she was living in our little townhouse, when we were having one – among the many conversations about life; she asked why we hadn’t been sisters. I told her that we are. I am an only child but she is my sister – a sister who taught me so much and helped me regain my faith. I would like to say so much more – use many different words to describe what an incredibly wonderful person she is, but I am at a loss. Language can be limiting sometimes.

I love her so much and perhaps in heaven someday we will see each other again.