Super Mom Part 2

June 3rd, 2007 § 9

In the spirit of tradition, here’s another delayed hallmark greeting. :P (I’m an expert at being late.)

Anyway, exactly a year ago, I posted something with the same title. Now, I’m re-using it not because I can’t think of anything else but because after all these years, she‘s still super. :)

They say, if you’re a guy and you want to see how it’s like to be with a girl for the rest of your life, go see her Mom. More often than not, she’ll eventually end up like her, looks and all. In my case, I find that hard to believe, because (1) my Mom’s always composed, I stutter all the time; (2) she always remembers, I always forget; (3) she’s a great cook, I can only make scrambled eggs and instant pancit canton; (4) she’s a very strong woman (I’ve probably seen her cry about 5 times my whole life) and I, meanwhile, cry over the littlest of things (like a sappy movie, or a senti song, or a sick hamster); (5) she knows what she wants and she makes it happen, when I’m indecisive and coward most of the time.

I could list down a few dozens more, but I’ll stop here. The thing is, if indeed the theory was true, (that eventually, I’ll end up like my Mom), then yay for me. Looks like I’m going to have a bright future, after all. :P

I’m not the only one who wonders how my Mom manages to be strong and keep on with her life gracefully in spite of (physically) losing Daddy. Whenever I ask her how she does it, she would simply quote a Bible verse about God being the strength of her heart, or about finding peace in His promises, or of trusting Him even in times when she don’t understand. I told you, she’s super. I mean, it’s one thing knowing and saying these basic truths, another thing to really hold on to them and make them your lifestyle everyday. She’s amazing.

One thing for sure, if I get to have my own kids, I’d want to raise them the way my Mom (and my Dad) raised us up. Except that I’d probably allow my daughter to have a boyfriend at 18, unlike, uhm, them. Haha. (I’m not bitter okay.) Ultimately, I’d love it if one day, I’d hear my kids say that they’d want to be like me, too. (Gaah. I have to start working on that one now.)

Hey Mom, I love that life is easier because you’re always there. I love that you have no choice but to be here for us when we need you (and even if we seem like we don’t), hehe, because that’s the kind of Mom you are. And I love that I don’t have to wonder how life is gona be like without you because, well, you’ve always been around.

Thank you for being the Super Mom that you are, and for imparting to us your genes, which gives us the potentials to be super too.

Happy Birthday Mommy! I love you.

Love Letter

May 21st, 2007 § 21

Dear Daddy,

Hi! I didn’t cry today! Proud of me? :) Er, except for that one time when Ninong Dave prayed over lunch, and, well, I’m sure you heard his prayer (thanking God for another year, and for all those people He brought into my life, and all the blessings, and well, the rest I won’t blog anymore because they’re un-bloggable and of course you already know them hehe). Did you see how all of us were giggling while we prayed? Was God laughing too when He was listening to us? :D So okay, I cried a bit there. But I don’t think that should even be considered as “crying” because I was just teary-eyed. You saw how I was able to hold the tears back and dry my eyes before everyone else opened theirs? Pretty clever huh. :)

I miss you, Daddy, today most especially. This morning, I woke up and found my mobile blinking with 27 text messages, waiting to be opened. 27, Daddy, 27!! You see how many people remembered? Not counting pa those who texted before I fell sleep the night before, and those who texted and called during the day! I am soo loved. But as I went through the texts and replied to each of them one after the other, I couldn’t help but wish I received a text message from you too. I can imagine it now. It would just be the usual, and you’d still be sending it even though you were just in the other room, or even when you already personally greeted me. It would simply say “hapy bday nak! luv u!“. But it would mean the world to me.

» Read the rest of this entry «

Happily Ever After

May 6th, 2007 § 3

As if reading old blog posts was not enough, I found myself reading random pages from my old journals too. And then I found this one journal entry I wrote 2 years ago, on May 1, 2005. It was my Mom and Dad’s 31st anniversary then, and apparently, it was a few days after Dad was released from the hospital following his heart surgery.

Thirty one years of being together, whoa. I can only imagine their joy now that their love was able to survive a series of trials, and tears, and fears, and tests. Today was indeed a time to celebrate as their 31-year-old vow — the one which says, “for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health..” — was made real right before their and everyone else’s eyes.

Dad’s heart surgery (and our fear that we could lose him anytime) was surely a part of a plan grand-er than anything we could think of. Perhaps God, the Great Author of love and romance, planned to make this year’s anniversary more memorable, sweeter even.

Someday, if God wills, I’d get to make that vow too.. And if that happens, I shall look back on Mommy and Daddy’s love story, knowing full well that God had been the One writing the script.

Someday, I’ll have my own love story to tell too.

There goes your 21 year old Rhiz. (Eek!) A lot has changed since then, (somewhere along the way I have become somewhat bitter and cynical, haha), but one cannot deny that in a world where breakups and failed marriages and broken families are staple, one still hope for a love story worth telling the grand kids.

Last May 1, no matter how we tried to be happy (coz that’s what Daddy would have wanted) , I know there’s a deep longing in our hearts, wishing that Daddy was still here, and he and Mom were celebrating their anniversary as always.

Mommy and Daddy didn’t take a lot of pictures. The few ones they have, however, will always remind me, us, that in spite of all the differences and obstacles that married couples have to face, fairytales still do happen.

Christmas 2005

Our church’s medical and dental mission, 2006

Lola’s birthday, February 2007

Christmas 2006

Last May 1 would have marked my Mom and Dad’s 33rd year together. They would have continued serving the Lord together, and making a difference in other people’s lives, and growing old with each other. But God has something else in mind, after all, His ways are always higher than ours.

Dad’s death was not the end of their love story. Just as his legacy, their love story lives on too. Now, their 33-year-old vow — that part which says, “for better or worse, til death do us part” — was made real right before our eyes over again.

There goes my Mom and Dad’s happily ever after.

Thanks, Everyone

April 13th, 2007 § 5

I’ve said a lot, but they’re not enough:

And then there are people who helped me by sharing their own testimonies/stories too:

Thanks, everyone. Reading your blogs brought me (and my family) enormous amount of comfort and joy. Thank you. I’m sure, somewhere up there, Dad’s smiling and reading your blogs too.

P.S. You posted something about my Daddy too but it’s not here? Let me know so I can send you some link love. ♥

Feldene Flash

April 12th, 2007 § 5

Yesterday was my first day back in the office since Dad passed away, and I wasn’t feeling well. On top of the emotional struggles I was going through, I had tummy cramps (what I first thought was dysmenorrhea lang) and back aches that were so painful I started to worry.

Halfway through the day, I contacted a doctor-friend, told him how I was feeling, and asked him to prescribe me anything that would give me immediate relief. I was desperate.

“Take Feldene Flash, 1 tablet, dissolve under tongue. If pain persists, punta ka na sa ER,” he simply texted. And so, to the nearest drug store, I went.

Amazingly, ten minutes after taking Feldene Flash, the pain was gone. All of it. (That fast? That easy?)

I don’t know how it happened, and what Feldene Flash has that made the pain go away. I didn’t bother trying to find out either. What mattered was suddenly, the day was easier to bear.

Now if only there’s a medicine that could take away that other form of pain — the one that comes with change; and letting go of something you’re not ready to let go of yet; and missing someone you can’t anymore have — please, let me know.

I need an overdose.

I Love You, Daddy

April 4th, 2007 § 55

It was a Monday, and as always, Mom and Dad drove my brother and I to ABS-CBN where he work, and to the apartment (in Ortigas) where I stay on weekdays, respectively.

I had my laptop on in the car that time, and was excitedly explaining to Dad how I can now access the net anywhere through Globe Visibility. I’m sure Dad didn’t understand a bit of what I was saying but he nodded as if he did, and teased me about how her little girl has turned into an “anti-social geek.” At some point he even joked, “Nak bili mo rin ako ng laptop,” and in my head I was already considering the possibility. » Read the rest of this entry «

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