What makes a perfect mom?

What makes a perfect mom? Maybe that person should be the best cook, knows how to play doctor when her children gets sick, has a lot of money to provide for her family, and being cool, of course, should be on top of the list. That is what a mom should ideally be.

My mom is none of these. She is not a good cook (mind you, she’s well aware of that). But she always cooks Adobo, Menudo, and Picadillo for me just because she knows those are my favorite among her *coughs*”specialties”. She’s bad at playing doctor when my siblings and I are sick. Sometimes she forgets when we should next take our meds. But she never leaves our bedside. She even sleeps beside me. She’s not filthy rich; we just have enough to survive the lifestyle that we have. She’s bad in budgeting our money but still, at the end of the day, we get to eat the foods that we want, even more than the number of times a normal person eats in a day. She is a good provider. And she’s not cool, at all. She never allowed me to attend any birthday parties from kinder up to my elementary years. The moment I step out of the house, she would right away send me a text asking what time I’ll be home. Not only that, she would text me every hour just for me to give her an update on what I’m doing and where I am. But despite, I am proud to say, that I have the best and the perfect mom anyone could wish for.

Mother went through a lot raising my siblings and I. My older brother passed away July 21^st, 1995. My father got depressed and we found out that he had Chronic Megaloblastic Leukemia after 2 years then he took his last breath December 25^th of 2004. We lost everything; we lost our source of income. She had to work extra hard and to put an extra effort to feed herself, my younger sister, and I. She had to exert extra effort to send us both to good schools. She was alone, she had to do everything all by herself from then on. Plus the fact that mother had to bury her only son and her husband, I couldn’t imagine how she managed to get passed the pain. After less than a year, another crisis in the family came. She was diagnosed to have Stage II Cancer of the Breast. By God’s grace, she went back to her good physical shape after a number of Chemotherapy and Radiation Therapy. She goes to USTH for her Chemotherapy and check-ups and to SLMC for her Radiation Therapy all by herself.

Also, these were the days when I go home from school at the break of dawn or early morning the next day. I was also always at the Principal’s Office, Guidance Office, and YPMO talking to nuns, guidance counselors, and the principal. I was hated by my teachers when I was in high school and up until now, I don’t really understand why. Yes, maybe because I was mischievous and all, but I don’t’ really get it. When I stepped into college, same thing, I was never really the favorite of my professors. I never studied, or at least I would cram come finals just to have a good final grade. I would drink with my buddies after classes, sometimes we would cut classes just to hang out in a coffee shop or in a bar every day, literally –without putting in mind mother’s sacrifices just to give us the things that we need, just to pay our tuition, just to have something to give me when I ask for money, just for us to eat like how normal people does, just for us to have a safe place to live in, and to suffice for the loss of my father, she had to act like to persons. I won’t go in detail on how bad of a person I was then but just to give you an idea, there were some stealing (but just to clarify, I just did it for fun), some illegal drugs, sometimes there were also suicidal tendencies, and other stuff. It’s okay to judge me, whatever! But my point is, my mom stood up for me even when the whole world was against me. She never gave up on me. When I was at my lowest and most bad disposition, she loved me the same when I was at my best behavior. There were no judging for her when it comes to my sister and I.

We don’t have a tight relationship with each other. We never talk about personal stuff; she just talks to me when she wants me to do something for her or if she would scold me or what not. But now that I am 24 and now trying to have a better relationship with her; equipped with the lessons I learned from everything my family and I went through, and now with a sense of responsibility, it is now time to give back. I may not have the guts to say this to her upfront but I love her more than I love Johnny Depp and Jude Law. Haha, kidding. But really, I love her even if all the stars fall from the sky. I love her unconditionally. And from now on, I promise to take care of her the best way that I can. I will protect her from all the evil wandering around this f*cked up world, hehe. I know I won’t be able to replace all the losses that she has gone through but I promise to make it a point that I will give my very best to excel in all the things that I do and time will come when she no longer has to work and be stressed with all the sh*t this world has to bring, all she has to do is live an extravagant life. :)

Happy Mother’s day to the bravest, strongest, and best Mother Goose God has ever created! I love you heaps! :)

Sixteen days after Cory's death

Sixteen days after Cory’s death—she’s still on the news, on every paper’s headline, and even on the cover of the latest issue of Time Magazine.

Sixteen days—imagine how long that has been. If I was the one who died of Cardio Pulmonary Arrest last August 1 at 3:18 in the morning, I would have been forgotten the day after my burial; I would have even been forgotten the very night of it. But it’s Cory. The saint of democracy as Time Magazine baptized her, an international icon of democracy for the advocates all over the world, a humble and generous boss to her workers, and a responsible citizen to her beloved country. She may be this big for each one of us, but when she gets home; the person who knows who she really is, are just the fortunate few—her family.

I’m not talking about the Cojuancos—the Cojuancos who are more seen on the limelight of fashion, money, assets, and influence. No, I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about the Aquinos—her three daughters and one son, and her grandchildren; the Aquinos who politely kept their silence for the sake of their mother’s and grandmother’s privacy and peace because the family knows that after everything that had happened to Cory, privacy and peace are just the things that their mother could own at long last, the Aquinos who faced the media and the multitude of supporters humbly and welcomed each one with open arms during Cory’s wake because the family knows that it is their duty to continue what example Cory has taught them (and all of us, I believe), which is to be fair, to be humble, to share not only what you have but also what you would still have, and to lend not only a hand but both. Yes, the family knows.

Right after the requiem mass offered for Cory, her youngest daughter read her prepared speech for everyone. I’m not sure how many pages long it was but I’m darn sure it was long. When Kris speaks, she always speaks from the heart which captures every listener’s attention and emotion. From the moment she thanked her siblings up to the words “Maraming salamat, at paalam!” I was crying my heart out. I was trying so hard to hide that I’m crying because my cousin was on that same room where I was watching. I remembered the time I cried while watching All My Life, One More Chance, Monsters Inc., Matilda, A Walk To Remember, and John Q (these are just some, let me tell you). But this is different. This is real, unlike the scripted flow of the plot of the movies from the big screen. What I was watching then was a piece of the Aquinos, especially Kris’ heartbreaking battle with reality. I was text mates with a friend then. She was getting emotional, too. I tried to safeguard the emotions that were triggered by that lady’s speech. I was texting remarks like “Hehe!” or “Haha!” just to balance the conversation and to candidly try to show my friend that I am alright and not affected much of what was shown and heard on television, and end up fooling myself. During that time, the trailer of the movie And I Love You So was already released. There was a line there that Bea Alonzo said, “Nakapagpalibing na ako ng asawa.” I thought to myself: wait that applies to me too, only not a husband, but rather a father and a brother. I told this to my friend as a joke, and then later realized that that was really what appears to be in reality. I cried. I thought of my father, I thought of my brother. I missed them much, and then I cried even harder.

During her four hour necrological services, the family that she had left for the afterlife chose some of her closest friends to speak of her legacy while she was still with us. An in-law, a priest, a nun, a critique of hers during her regime turned friend, a son, co-politicians, and many others. I may not remember every detail they sorted out of how they knew of Cory, but I could describe to you how much of a big hearted person this former president was based from the out-pouring of love and support that even I, just from watching the coverage on my television set here at home, have felt. I could, but I won’t. No need, right? I’m sure you have felt it, too.

A lot of politicians went to the LSGH gym and Manila Cathedral to pay their last respect to our late former president—from the controversials, to the humbles; from the liars, to the outrights; from the family’s real close friends, to that dwarf. Yes! She went to Manila Cathedral straight from her US trip. Which by the way, has a controversial issue now of her along with her trusted disciples spending Php.9M in a five-star restaurant in NYC. But, no big! She called a ten-day national mourning whatever as respect for a former president’s death. See, she breathes reverence for the late president. Yeah, right! While the whole nation was mourning not just because of a democratic hero’s death but also for oppression, hunger, and unemployment; there they are, toasting their whine glasses, eating lobster, and practically living large. Way to go, Mrs. President! Hope you run for re-election. I know you will win landsliiide!!! And oh, your con-ass?! Don’t worry about it. Push it to the supremes and surely no one would rally along Mendiola, Rotonda, and EDSA. As a first time voter, please know that I will support you all the way, bitch! And another thing, regarding the 114% ballooning of your wealth—Mrs. President, I am sooo happy for you! May you buy peace of mind and clearness of conscience from the money that your husband proclaims to be coming from your stocks. Speaking of your husband, Humpty Dumpty, may he never leave you for another ugly but taller woman when you have served your purpose for him which is to gain wealth just like when he gains weight. That would really suck big time. I wouldn’t want you to go through all the pain of being left behind for a more complete package, I suppose. Your son slash daughter, Mikee Arroyo, I juuust love him! Especially when he gets cornered in an ambush interview about you and your family’s stinky deeds, he just flashes a blank stare for a few seconds and gives the camera that adorable smile. Oh, a lot of us just love him! And your daughter, Lilo (the stout lead from the movie Lilo & Stitch); ooops! My bad! It’s Luli, alright. Now I remember. She looks perfectly like you. I wonder if she also has your attitude. Her two front teeth are like yours and mine. Cute, eh? Hahaha! You are both sooo pretty. Given a chance, I would want to have your face rather than mine. You really are an epitome of a true and honest leader. And for that may I quote a leader of a hungry nation’s recent SONA: "I never expressed the desire to extend myself beyond my term. Many of those who accuse me of it tried to cling like nails to their posts.... I am accused of misgovernance. Many of those who accuse me of it left me the problem of their misgovernance to solve. And we did it.... I am falsely accused, without proof, of using my office for personal profit. Many of those who accuse me of it have lifestyles and spending habits that make them walking proofs of that crime...."—the person whom I just quoted should be ashamed. I’m sure she was already born when Corazon Aquino lead our country and spoke of her SONA too in front of the citizens of this back-then-not-so-hungry-and-getting-back-up-again nation. She knows very well. She is aware. She should be ashamed! Oh, wait. Was that you whom I just quoted? Crap. And madam, before I forget, your breasts; may they stay as frisky and tight as they are now, for all eternity. I will always pray for your soul that it may not burn too much in hell when you die.

Now, let’s go back to Cory. A funeral cortege lasted for approximately eight hours. Cory’s family didn’t have anything for the whole day except for the sandwiches they prepared beforehand. They were even thinking twice whether they would eat or not because if the supporters were all on the streets with nothing with them to eat, how could they possibly fill their starving stomachs without feeling horrible for those hungry Cory supporters tirelessly waving and signaling the “L” sign Cory was known for doing. When the cortege arrived at the Manila Memorial Cemetery, the high spirit of the crowd became more intense then went silent for a few seconds when Cory’s casket was started to be carried by the military men. I bet a lot of us had our eyes start to fill with tears from the moment Cory’s children blessed her casket with Holy Water and kissed her good bye until the moment when cement was being spread to finally close her up.

Sixteen days after Cory’s death.

Now that Cory has passed away, and Gloria is still the president, I don’t think there’s anything that we have to be frightened about. I just can’t wait for the next ousting of a president, or the next EDSA Revolution. Planning to go for re-election? Con-ass? Prime minister? Go ahead, make my day. Cory may be dead but her magic will live on.

War: A Not So Silent One

Today, seventh day of July, is also the seventh day of the novena offered for former president Corazon Aquino. The Aquino family 19s confirmation of how her situation is getting worse has shaken the nation big time. People are affected though they do not know her personally. As a matter of fact, you can see updates about former president 19s condition on television, read acknowledgments on both broad sheets and tabloids, and hear reports on the radio or even in regular random conversations everywhere.

Why? You may ask. As I see it, it is because of the impact she has made on our nation, on our government, on our faith in God, on our family, and on our selves particularly.

I saw her once in person, and that never happened again. That was during my elementary days, at the height of the Charter Change issue during the Ramos regime. She went to my school, St. Theresa 19s College of Quezon City. And that being a Catholic School, she went there to lead a prayer rally.

The school gave her a warm and grand entrance. We, students, were asked to line up on the grade school grounds. She walked from the driveway to the stage assembled just across the flag pole. As she walked past in front of us, I had the longest goose bumps; that I clearly remember.

As soon as I got home that day, I looked for my parents so I could tell them that I saw the person they introduced to me as a hero. Modern Melchora Aquino as they would regard her as, for me to remember them both clearly for my Sibika subject. I remember them telling me that I was so lucky for seeing her in person, for seeing a live hero for it only happens to fortunate individuals.

Since then, she became my idol. Not because of the manner my parents brought me up for me to idolize her the way they do. But because at my early age, her story, works, and achievements inspired me to be more rational in the things that I do and to make sure that people would benefit from me and from what I do. And so, indeed, I am a fan.

When martial law happened, until her husband, Benigno Aquino Jr. died, up to the moment when she was inaugurated to be the seventh president of the Republic of the Philippines; my father was working abroad and my mother was at home taking good care of my big brother. While everyone was rallying along EDSA, they were busy doing their own thing. Some may think of them as indifferent and apathetic. But for me, they 19re absolutely not. They just had to do it because if they wouldn 19t, no one else would.

Like my parents, I am silent 14silent in the sense that I practically don 19t do anything objective for my nation. All I can do is to post stuffs on my blog exhibiting my opinions and views, join causes in facebook that battles the negativities of this government, read the articles that I come across regarding people 19s political views.

I never go out to the streets and do noise barrages, rallies, or strikes unless my school St. Joseph 19s College of Quezon City would ask for it. I speak my mind out during conversations with friends and family, but not on public unlike the manner of disputes of many. But despite, I am pretty much vigilant just like any other Filipino citizen who cares for our nation. And that is why I joined Boto Mo, Patrol Mo (BMPM). In that way, I am sure that informing the authorities the negligent officials would be much easier and less frustrating because I am positive that my voice would definitely be heard. That is my own little way of saying that I 19ve had enough. Slowly, I am being awakened by the things that are happening around me. Thanks to people like Mrs. Aquino.

Tomorrow, my mother, my aunt, my cousin, and I will attend a Healing Mass for her at Makati. I thought it would be more appropriate if I would wear a yellow-colored shirt. But then, I thought, I don 19t own one. But that doesn 19t define me as a liar when I say I am a fan of hers, right? Well, I claim I am a fan yet I don 19t have a yellow shirt. It 19s no big deal, I think. But I find it funny, though.

My mother, I think, feels for Mrs. Aquino 19s pain above anyone else. Like the former president; my father 14her husband 14passed away 10 years ago. Just imagine how hard it is for someone whose relationship was so perfect to end just like that.

My father had Leukemia. 5 years after they learned of it, he died of cardiac arrest. Though he did not die so sudden like Mr. Aquino, I guess no one could really be prepared for someone 19s death. Just like when Mr. Aquino died, a lot of people where present and mourned for my father 19s death. My relatives on his side went to our house on Christmas day 14most of them, I only saw then.

Maybe, after feeling complete and fulfilled for bringing his family together, my father stopped breathing. As for former senator Benigno Aquino, his death served as wake up call for the Filipino nation. His death signaled the start of a long process in bringing the Filipino nation which we consider a family, together.

A year after, my mother went to the hospital to have her breasts checked. Turns out, she has cancer of the breast. At first, they kept it from my sister and me, but eventually, they had to tell us the truth because of one obvious reason 14we are one family. Families tell. They tell each other what 19s going on with their lives, their problems, or just random things that they want to talk about.

Again, just like in Mrs. Aquino and her family 19s case; they would have to tell us, sooner or later, what 19s going on because in theory, we are one family. And so they did.

Every time I watch the news on television with my mother, tears fill her eyes. I know she can still feel every bit of pain she went through before even though she surpassed the battle of her cancer.

Yes, she is well now. Yet the fear of losing her is still in my system. And again, one can never be prepared for anyone 19s death.

In everything that Mrs. Aquino and my mother went through, the holy rosary is what they keep in their hands. Despite the storms they went and will still go through, praising God is still certain.

Now that Mrs. Cory Aquino 19s condition is worse than before, just like my mother, I know she can live past this. She is brave, strong, and everything in between. Whatever happens, I know that God makes fit decisions for her, for her family, and this nation that she restored, from beginning to end, in benevolence.

Both of them fought hard. As for me, I am so blessed and fortunate to be able to know them both and suck up every detail that is considered necessary for me to strive harder and continue on. Like them, after the martial law and life 19s adversities, I have been fighting this silent war.

I am not a writer; I just love sharing my thoughts. And with the frame of mind that I have now, which attests me to be non-apathetic and non-indifferent, by writing this, I am making this war a not so silent one.

***Late post: 070709; This was intended for a broad sheet.

IT Happens.

You know the story, of a girl who meets this boy in some random circumstance, and then they’d finally get to know each other in not so random circumstances. They spend time together; in and out of the school, alone or in a group. You predict that they’d sooner or later get to like each other. The boy being a cowardly flirt who tends to not so gentlemanly end something and incessantly leaves without a word, and the girl being a toughie who is domesticated by the feelings she bears within right from “C---” to “V----” then after everything has perished, let loose the bitter sometimes pathetic fighter within.

You know how the story would end—in an insurgence—a chaotic whirlwind of deep emotions from doubts of sincerity to unanswered queries.

Then the boy sees happy ever after with another girl he meets in another random circumstance. At the height of the deceived girl’s realization of how genuine her interest is in him, the boy found a new girl. Then the girl he betrayed thinks about how disgusted she feels about the girl that she sees looking in the mirror and how ugly the boy made her feel. She calls him names, wish him bad karma, and think evil thoughts, yet at the end of the day, she is haunted by her conscience, and so she feels sorry. She couldn’t sleep well because of too much sin in a day. That is her method to her madness.

She said in a lot of conversations she’d use her head over her heart. She swore she’d never let anyone abuse her in any aspect. She is strong, mannish, and unshakable. She is a fighter. And so it was hard for her to accept certain things. Certain things like how he has his own ways in firmly disrespecting the girl despite the obvious things, though some people belittle, but for both of them; for that boy who knows how the girl deals with things, are big leaps as to how that girl expresses her personal feelings.

She didn’t realize what she was becoming. She learned a side of her that she hasn’t known until then. She didn’t like it.

Still, the story ends in an insurgence. That girl gets angry and gets eaten up by her remorse to that boy.

But come to think of it, all of it wouldn’t have happened if she wasn’t stupid enough not to know the things that boy is capable of doing and if she didn’t act as if she was blind not to see the things laid in front of her. She trusted and believed him. She had faith in him, in them, in everything. So in the end, both of them are the ones to blame.

She wakes up and lives every day thanking her one and only God above that when everything ended, she still has her sanity and respect for herself. She now loves her self more than ever and learns that no person can make her feel bad without her consent. She wishes that she would be the last person the boy would ever play with. She thinks that it’s high time the boy learn the tricks of the game because she herself has already did.

And then the story ends.



***First posted this on my fb account last Saturday, 06-27-2009