while I'm waiting…

My Mama has been teasing me that I am old, because I am 30. My brother sent me a text saying “welcome to the 30’s generation”. But in my heart, I am stuck at 23. I still have a long list of things to do and I have slacked off on a lot of them, but as the quote says, “It is never too late to become what you might have been” (George Eliot), I will not give up on the things that I have set aside. So here are some of those things:

– reach 1st dan blackbelt for Taekwondo
– grow my potted vegetable garden
– get my own bicycle (for exercise!)
– ok fine, get my driver’s license
– get this freaking blog going and monetize it again!
– get a US visa (my colleague just got one a few months ago without being intimidated by the interviewer. hmm.)
– prepare for IELTS (meaning save up the money – it’s so expensive! come on, I can speak English! hehe)
– take up that make-up course and be a certified make-up artist!
– take voice lessons
– buy a new acoustic guitar and play again
– maybe learn some percussion
– get married on my 32nd birthday (just a dream, no pressure hehe)

Well the actual list is longer. Huh.

For now, I am glad to have finished Plants vs Zombees last week! Hahaha!

I am looking forward to the team dinner tonight, hope to post some photos tomorrow!

(Blueberry cheesecake at French Baker, a dinner treat for myself last friday, forced myself to finish it, kakabusog pala! (after I ate a full meal kasi))

I have always been terrified of turning thirty. I have no idea how it happened, but I guess it’s because I have always heard other people say you should be married by thirty otherwise, you will be categorized an “old maid”. Although I don’t exactly fit in that category because I have a child already, but the idea of having a zero lovelife is just… sad, scary – basta, a major negative feeling.

But the world turns and the days fly by, and this tiny girl who people used to call “bonsai”, “lizard” and “mosquito” (my classmates are mean), is still tiny, but in terms of experience and “wisdom” I would like to think I am as big as an elephant (I’d be a whale when I turn 60, and a dinosouar when I reach 80).

Wisdom. Do I really have it? Most times I feel like I haven’t changed emotionally since I was 15, when I had my first boyfriend and I’d get upset if he ignores me the whole day (he does that just to avoid being the subject of teachers’ gossips hehehe). Anyway, I just cannot stand not getting my beloved’s attention. Ha-ha. Maybe it’s hard wired in me because I grew up being the special one in the family, being my father’s only girl and being both grandfathers’ youngest granddaughter.

But yeah, wisdom. The wisdom to choose to forgive (which is a very challenging endeavor, believe me). And the awakening that it is true that God answers prayers – although He packages the gifts in ways I do not expect, or hope for. Nonetheless, He answers them. The answers may not be what I asked for exactly, but there will always be an answer – “yes”, “no”, “why not get this instead of that”, or “you already have that you are just looking at the wrong direction”. Oh, and there is probably the answer that says “you are asking the same question”, hahaha! (that probably comes when I ask God, why??? over and over)

So yeah, this post is as incoherent as my real handwriting. So what can I say on the eve of my birthday?

Thank You, God, for letting my parents keep me, the unexpected baby. And thank You, for giving me Lex, the unplanned baby, because he simply reminds me that there is enough reason for me to live another day. Every day.

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Thanks guys, for the advance birthday greetings! Special mention si Harold, who called me on the 2nd of September to greet me (akala ko eh for the first time in 13 years he has forgotten the date hahaha!), before he forgets daw pala.

And thanks to my green eyed teddy bear for keeping in touch.

After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand, and chaining a soul…
And you learn that love doesn’t mean security,
and you begin to learn that kisses are not contracts,
and presents are not promises.

And you begin to accept your defeats with your head up
and your eyes open.
With the grace of maturity not a grief of a child.

And you learn to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans,
and futures have a way of falling down mid-flight.

After a while you learn that even sunshine burns you if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure…
That you are really strong
and that you really do have worth.

And you learn and learn and learn…
With every goodbye you learn…

– Veronica Shoftstall

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Thanks, Laiza, for sharing this piece of paper with me. Indeed, we can endure. So for my birthday, I’ll buy myself some flowers not because I’m desperate, but because I love myself! And I love fresh flowers. No parties for my 30th year, but I would love to drink lots and get drunk by myself. Hmm… I am now excited.

Last Friday, on the way home, I sat beside an old man in the van. He was obviously a WW II veteran, since he wore that classic Army hat, spoke perfect English, was very gracious and he exuded a unique confidence you only see in military men. Anyway, I couldn’t help but glance at him once in a while, and maybe he noticed, that he smiled. I hope I didn’t look like I was checking him out in a…er… bad way. But anyway, I was thinking of my own grandfather. And that time, I wanted to ask this old man questions – about his life story. I wanted to ask him about his experiences, about life during the war, about… everything! But it was too quiet in the van and I know it would have been so odd for me to ask him stuff. Then I thought… I hope his grandchildren are taking the time to chat with him, and he’s able to share his stories with them. I would love to sit in one of their gatherings just to listen….

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You may be wondering how come i don’t write about my other set of grandparents – my Mama’s parents. It’s because I was able to spend some precious time with my grandfather before he died when I was 9. Lolo Esting (Ernesto) is the eldest of three boys, he was a mechanical engineer (an my Mama always told me that he would have been so proud to have his youngest granddaughter pass the engineering licensure exams – sigh), he worked in the government for several years as a district engineer under the Ministry (Department) of Public Works. He has always been the one who helped out my Mama during family crisis, even when we were in far away Davao City, he found a way to visit us on my first birthday.

Lolo Esting loved ice cream. When we went back to our province in 1988, he would pick me up from school and treat me for ice cream. I never really loved ice cream, but since it was a treat, I devoured it. Hehe. So when he died in 1990 (heart attack while watching a replay of the Mike Tyson fight on TV), I had dreams about him picking me up from school and eating ice cream. On some occasions, I think I did see him (either my imagination, or it was for real) way after his death. I was also the youngest among his grandchildren, so that makes me an instant “favorite” (I’d like to believe that hehe). Oh how he would have loved to see me walk the stage as an engineering graduate. SIGH.

So there, while Lolo Esting didn’t fight during the war (he had a heart condition and was not recruited in the Army), I had solid memories of him. We spent weekends in his “farm” with a fishpond and a beach house. His home was located beside the sea (which is now owned by his second wife, we still visit her), he drove that white Jeep (the real Jeep) while his dog followed him by foot. Even on his wake, his dog slept beside his casket.

Anyway, I am remembering him now, because of that old man I saw last Friday.

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Totally not grandfather-related… I have someone new! And he’s sitting on my desk

His name is Richard, and I really like him. In fact, my colleagues like him as well, they want me to cut him up so they can have one too…

Oh, I haven’t mentioned, Richard is my new oregano plant. I got him from another office when we had a meeting, and they had rows of oregano plants in plastic cups, and when I showed interest on the plants, they gave me one – the oregano in a Starbucks cup, with a name written on it – Richard. Hehehe!

So there, I cut up Richard today (and I also cut myself – haha, careless) and planted it in another container, for Laiza. She named her new plant – Migs.

Maybe by the end of the month, I’d be able to take another branch from Richard and replant.

I love plants! They don’t talk and move. Hehe.

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So happy about gmail video chat! Just sucks when the chat feature acts up when i’m not at home. Sigh. Hope it gets better tomorrow.

I barely knew my grandfather (my father’s dad). All I know is that he was a World War II veteran, eventually became part of the Philippine Army and retired as an Army Captain. I have learned more about him recently when we were “reunited” with the rest of the Bacani clan, since my uncles have spent a lot of time with him.

One thing I remember about him was that he traveled from Ilocos Sur to Cavite (around 400 plus km., and more than 10 hrs. bus ride) to visit my brother, and that he was the one who was there during my brother’s wedding in my father’s place (we were still not in good terms with my father that time). And during that time, when our family had a crisis, my grandfather GAVE me his bank book so I could withdraw his pension money EVERY MONTH and help us out financially. It was not really a huge amount but he was living off his pensions and he had to give up one of them. I guess, in a way, it is his way of compensating for having a (once) irresponsible son (sorry Papa, you know that’s true hehe).

Anyway, recent events in the family has inspired my cousin to rummage through his mom’s old photos, scanned them and posted them on Facebook. Here, I share some of the photos of my grandfather, the highly respected (but almost forgotten) Capt. Juan Bacani.

My uncle’s comment on FB: “uncle john must be in college here, enrolled at centro escolar also takin dentistry. second year college siya when WWII broke up. he was recruited. lolo hugo and dad just learned about it thru relatives. the next time they saw him was at death march. classic no?”

My uncle’s comment on FB: “i think this is in fort magsaysay, uncle john was assigned in tabak division of the army”

(Written at the back)
Dec. 31, 1966
“Scene was taken in front of Saigon Catholic Cathedral. Jeep is a PHILCAG, one driven by a Sgt. Reyes whom I requested to make the shot. It is in this vicinity where Filipinos by the hundreds meets and stroll especially after Sunday mass. Saigon”

(Written at the back)
Saigon, Vietnam Dec. 21/1967
“To Emy,

Love Daddy”
(Emy is my father’s youngest sister)

With this photo, my father’s cousin, Tito Willie recalled how Lolo Juan showed his concern for the family: “when he was long retired from the service i was asking him to give me his 45cal…this is what he told me (translated from Kapampangan to Tagalog) ‘Loko, nuong galing ako ng Vietnam nag-uwi ako ng baril, kahit gaano pa..di ko inisip na bigyan ko kayo ng baril..ngayon pa!..hindi nyo kailangan ng baril..husto na.. na ako na lang ang humawak ng baril sa mga Bacani’ (When I went back from Vietnam I brought home guns, but even then I didn’t think of giving you one. You do not need it. It is enough that I am last of the Bacani’s to hold a gun.)

(Written at the back)
“Saigon, Vietnam.
Daddy in his rugged attire. This is where I stay and live. Our billet is not seen in picture. It is very cold now. The temperature is 14F. I am wearing a sweater and a leather jacket.”

I may be biased, but hey, my grandfather IS gorgeous, isn’t he?

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Thank you, Lolo Juan, for your memories. And thank you, my uncles and aunts, for sharing his memories with us!

This is a letter I emailed to my dear friend. I know it’s supposed to be private, but I just felt like sharing it, maybe it will bless someone, somehow.

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Dearest H,

Happy 30th birthday! Can you believe it’s our 30th year on earth? It seemed just like yesterday when we were 16 and were hopeful and eager freshmen ready to conquer the world.

I’m so glad that after 13 years, we are still good friends, well, I do consider you as my best friend, my family-by-choice. I know that sounds too dramatic, especially now that we have lives of our own that we don’t really talk much anymore. But , well, you know what I mean when I say that, we may not be close, we may not talk every day, but I know that when I need you, or when you need me, we are there for each other, and when we talk, it seems that we just last got together yesterday.

I wanna take this chance to thank you – for the years of friendship and love, for your forgiveness and understanding. Thank you for sharing your life, your faith, your friends and your family. Thank you for being the gentleman that you are, for living your life as you believe God wants you to live. Thank you for your prayers, they do mean a lot, and I know that they do work.

You know, I have to share with you, that when you told me you have a girlfriend already, I felt scared. Scared that you won’t be the same, that someone was about to steal my friend. I know it’s stupid and crazy, but I am glad that when I met M, I knew right away that my friend is in good hands. I am glad that you have found another soul who shares the same faith, values and vision, and that is really important. I no longer feel scared or paranoid that someone is about to hurt you, I know she will not let you down. I am truly happy for the love you share, and I know that it has blessed a lot of the people you deal with, especially the younger ones who look up to you for guidance.

And speaking of guidance, I am so proud of you, of how you dealt with J and the challenges of bringing him closer to God. I am glad to see now that even though he is still in that “org”, he has a stronger foundation to resist whatever is out there. I’m glad you did not give up on him.

Anyway, I know I have missed out a lot of your achievements at work and church, but whatever. I am proud of you, and I am blessed and honored to be one of your many many friends. And I am even more blessed to be able to see how much you have changed for the best. When I remember how self-centered you were back in our freshmen year – man! I wish you could see what I saw, and maybe you could just kick that kid’s ass. But of course you can’t kick your own ass, haha!

Well, I know this has been long, and it’s not like I’m saying goodbye! This is just supposed to be a birthday greeting!

But well, I sure hope I get to write you more birthday letters until we’re 80 and we’ve had lots of grandkids (well, maybe just you – Lex will be a priest haha!).

xxx

Here’s to your 30th year on earth, and our 13 years of friendship.

your FBC,

Lisa

I just heard abt another death today. An orgmate’s sister passed away, tho I don’t know the details. Anyway, she had to postpone her wedding plans this year. I feel sad for her and her family for the loss, of course. I do not mean to be insensitive or what, but the tragedy did not stick to my mind today. Rather, what struck me is the idea of marriage.

I was texting another orgmate (BTW, “orgmate” is someone you know in the same organization, hehe) a while ago and asked her about her wedding plans. Turned out that her parents aren’t ready to let her go yet. So she, too, has to postpone the plan. I suddenly remembered what my Mama told me before: “why the rush? If you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with that one person anyway, then there’s no need to get married ASAP.”

Of course, when you’re in love and totally crazy about your special someone, you just can’t wait to be “officially married”.

While walking to the shuttle station, I was pondering on that thought. Couples, on their wedding day, share that moment when everything is perfect. Then after the wedding, depending on the situation of course, reality sinks in and they start facing the challenges – the most obvious one is the financial aspect. Then, in the Philippines, a lot of couples either live with one’s parents, or the other way, the parents live with them. And they face the second challenge – dealing with in-laws. Then the next one comes after the romance has taken a backseat – the little flaws you used to ignore becomes annoying, and then becomes an issue. Then the next big challenge – the baby. And I wonder, is that the reason most people who reach their 30’s and are still single, end up being single longer? Because they have seen enough that they fear having a hard time. Because their friend ended up like this or like that, and they want to “be prepared”, either financially or “emotionally” (whatever that means, who is ever emotionally ready for anything anyway?) Because they want to be “sure” that the next one is “the right one”, or simply “the one”.

Well, here’s news for you. Whoever is the next one for me is the Nth one, hopefully the last (I was supposed to say the exact number, but, nah) I do hope he will be right for me, but I also pray that I am the right one for him. See, I have this “image” of a man that I want, the kind of man that will stand up for me (okay, figuratively and literally, hehehe), the man that I share the same values and vision with, someone I can share my dreams, fantasies and crazy ideas without fear or shame. I have this vivid image of how he will treat me, how he would brush my hair with his fingers and sing to me no matter how awful his singing voice might sound. I have this image of the man who will be my last, the last one who, hopefully, will wait till my death before he finds a new one.

Because I have experienced the challenges of preparing for a child to come, I realized, you do not just prepare for a wedding. You do not just plan which church to have the ceremonies in, what dress to wear and where to have the honeymoon. You have to prepare for life after. Life waaay after the wedding. Life after she loses that figure and he loses his hair. Life after the kids have grown and have lives of their own. Of course you prepare one step at a time, the same way that you live every day, one day at a time.

Sigh. Of course, all these, are just words of a hopeless romantic who thought she almost had it. Well, I’m glad it was just “almost”, because I also “almost” went straight to hell (haha!). Anyway, these are my thoughts tonight, and since I’m all mushy cheezy chummy, let me share this really great song from Side A, a Filipino band popular for its romantic, emotional songs. Enjoy.

I was mostly at home this weekend, and I didn’t do anything “productive”. I feel a bit sad, but mostly, I feel numb. Like, I don’t care about responsibilities at the moment. I just want to be lazy, surf the net, watch TV, take afternoon naps.

But tomorrow’s monday again, and I have to be back to my “responsible” self. See, when the bills come, I wake up and realize, darn. No one’s gonna do things for me. Sigh.

Sometimes, I wish I can go back to just being a kid who doesn’t have a clue about what’s really going on.

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Someone out there is going through tough times. Someone, who is forced to face the pain of being left behind, of being insulted and denied. Pretty much like how it was for me. But this is much worse, because they are married, and they have a kid. And when you are married and your husband DENIES you in front of everybody, the pain is worse than anything else. I feel for her. And I am glad she’s toughing up and is taking the necessary steps to be free.

I always wonder why guys could do that. Sometimes, when I hear of a man who is so heartbroken he wants to kill himself, I silently laugh at him and say “that’s for all the women your kind has hurt. bastard.” I know it’s not fair. Let’s just say, we all have the right to be (silently) bitter sometimes.

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It’s weird, that even though I am making an effort to move forward and not let the past trap me anymore, I am forced to look back and remember. Because someone asks me how it was, how I dealt with it, how “he” dealt with it. And I have to share, because this person is going through a similar situation. Well, with all honesty, I know that I have somehow moved on, and I no longer have the desire to get back together. But it’s like, I am not supposed to forget. Because someone else might need the info. Sigh.

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I showed Lex his father’s photo BTW. And Lex just said “what is that?”. I told him, that’s your daddy. Then suddenly, Lex shoved the photo away and made this “i don’t care who that is” face. It’s really odd. I insisted on showing him the photo but he didn’t want to look at it anymore. I am surprised, confused, and worried.

I texted his father about it, and he said something like, “it’s expected, because he has been hearing bad things about me”. And i replied something like “excuse me. we never talk about you. I do not allow anyone to tell my son bad things about you because I know how it feels to have people say bad things about my father. My family isn’t like most people out there you know”. Geez. I just hate that he thinks we are like people he knows in his neighborhood who talk trash about people. Lex doesn’t even know he has a father because we don’t talk about it. And I prefer that we don’t. We can discuss it some other time when he starts asking questions.

He just doesn’t have an idea how much I tried to protect him from my family. How much I tried to keep this “issue” between the two of us and no longer drag my family into the picture. He had no idea why I attended hearings all by myself. He has no idea that my family does not decide for me.

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Can you believe he’s asking for a birthday gift from me? I told him, you didn’t even give Lex a birthday gift and a Christmas gift last year. We’re not related, so why would I give you a gift?

Haha. I know. Harsh.

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See, 5 years. And I still blog about “him”! Darn. Oh well, that means I need to read more new books. (connect?)

But then I watch war movies now. Watched part 5 of The Pacific today. Maybe that’s an indication that I have totally moved forward. Soldiers being killed, bombs, etc. etc.doesn’t bother me anymore. Just don’t let me watch Army Wives.

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I know I sound annoying about not wanting to blog about the past but still it finds its way through  my posts. Maybe it’s true, I heard somewhere, that people dwell in the past because there are no new memories yet that will surpass it. Something like that. While my experience as a mom has been priceless, it’s not something that will make the past seem like a dream (duh, it even solidifies the past because of its “result”!). Anyway, life is calling. I know it’s time to make new memories. New, worthwhile, priceless memories. With people who matter more than what was.

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Watched Ghost Town on HBO today. I liked the soundtrack. And the story. Here’s one of the songs. It fits where I’m at.

(movie trailer)

What I’m Looking For

Well I don’t know what I’m looking for
But I know that I just wanna look some more
And I won’t be satisfied
‘Till there’s nothing left that I haven’t tried
For some people it’s an easy choice
But for me there’s a devil and an angel’s voice
Well I don’t know what I am looking for
But I know that I just wanna look some more

Looking for…
What I’m looking for…

(photo source)

I’ve never really given much thought about the April 9 annual holiday. I just realized how important it should be for our family. Because April 9 is the Philippine celebration for the Filipino and American soldiers who fought against the Japanese. April 9 was the Fall of Bataan, where thousands of Filipino and American soldiers were taken by the Japanese and were forced to march through three provinces, which was later called the Death March.

Why is it important for our family? Because my grandfather (my dad’s father) survived the Death March. He was a World War II veteran, and he was only 18 years old at that time. Had he died during that march, my family wouldn’t be here today. I know a lot of other soldiers survived that time, and their grandchildren are enjoying life today. I just hope that they, too, appreciate the struggles that their grandparents had to endure during the war.

It’s just unfortunate that I never spent time with my grandfather to get to know him, and his many stories as a war veteran, and as a soldier during the Vietnam war. If there are any regrets in life that I have, it’s not getting to know my grandparents while they were alive. I was in college when my grandfather died, and my grandmother (his second wife) told me he would call out my name before he died. (I’m the only granddaughter, that’s why) and it was so so sad that I wasn’t there.

Looking at photos online about the Bataan Death March, I found some interesting blogs here and here. The photos were… I don’t know how to explain the feeling. But one thing I know is that I want to thank my grandfather, and the many other grandfathers out there, alive and not, who fought and won the war. If your grandfather is also a war veteran, I thank him, and I celebrate his life with you.

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I remember the story of how my great grandfather (mother’s side) survived the Death March. It was evening and the Filipino and American war prisoners were gathered in a sugarcane field in the province of Tarlac to sleep. My great grandfather opted to squeeze his body in between sugarcane shrubs because it was cooler than the ground. It was April so it’s the middle of summer in the Philippines. So he slept, and when he woke up, he realized that he was left behind. The Japanese soldiers did not see him. He made sure that no one alive was around (all around him were dead bodies), then he headed to his home, which is also in Tarlac. When he got home, my great grandmother didn’t recognize him, but of course, she was so happy as soon as she learned it was her husband. My great grandfather lived until after my mother was born.

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Another thing that reminded me, and inspired me to write about the Fall of Bataan today, is the HBO miniseries “The Pacific“, which is similar to the “Band of Brothers“. I am not a fan of war movies because it’s depressing, but I suddenly remembered my grandfather since snippets of the miniseries would be shown when I watch TV. (too bad I don’t have his old photos)

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I am honored to be the youngest and only granddaughter of Capt. Juanito Gutierrez Bacani.

Sabi nila, ang mga tao na dumarating sa buhay natin ay may panahon – kung kelan darating at kung kelan aalis. Ang iba, di nama talaga umaalis, pero parang ganun na rin, nawawala sila at pakiramdam mo, nag iisa ka na lang.

Pinag iisipan ko kung dapat pa ba na mag paalam ako, o dapat palipasin ko na lang ang panahon na di sya kinakausap, hanggang sa masanay na ako. Hmm. Tutal, kapag nasa malayo ang isang kaibigan, madali na silang kalimutan, kung may mga kaibigan naman ako dito.

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Nakausap ko ang isang lalaki na matagal ko na rin naging kaibigan. Hindi sya Pilipino, at sa isang madibdibang diskusyon, kinwento nya sa akin na minsan, natatakot sya na baka raw gusto ko syang pakasalan para makarating ako sa kanyang bansa, tulad ng maraming Pilipina doon. Nagpaliwanag naman sya na alam nyang hindi ako ganun, pero dahil sa ako ay dalagang ina at ako’y bata pa, malaki ang probability na ganun na rin yun. Syempre uminit ang ulo ko, dahil umpisa pa lang, sinabi ko na sa kanya na nakikipag kaibigan lamang ako at kung anuman ang mangyari, ay di yun dahil sa interesado ako sa pag migrate. Hayy! Naloka ako. Naisip ko na sadyang ganun na ang imahe ng mga Pilipina, na kahit disenteng tao ka, at di ka naman interesado sa mga ganung benepisyo, eh pag-iisipan ka pa rin ng masama.

Sa inis ko, sinabi ko sa kanya na kung di lang sa pagiging makabayan ko, dapat matagal na akong naninirahan sa bansa nila bilang isang propesyonal. Hmp. Sya nga di pa nakatapos ng kolehiyo eh. Hmp! Pero ayun, nagpaliwanag sya na hindi ganun ang tingin nya sa akin, at ang kanyang takot ay para ring takot sa multo – walang basehan.

Di ko alam kung ano pa dapat ang isipin ko, pero sa aming pag uusap, napag tanto ko na kahit sino at kahit saan pa, iisa lang ang iniiisip ng mga lalaki – na ang tulad kong dalagang ina ay hindi karapat dapat sa kanila.

Nadagdagan nanaman tuloy ang mababang tingin ko sa aking sarili. Nakakainis. Minsan gusto kong magalit sa anak ko – kasi naman bakit pa sya dumating. Pero syempre binabawi ko naman agad yun at humihingi ako ng tawad sa Dyos.

Nakakainis lang na isiping pagkatapos kong umasa na siguro di naman lahat ng lalaki mababa ang tingin sa mga tulad ko – eh napatunayan kong hindi totoo yun. Sabagay, kapag binata na ang anak ko, gugustuhin ko ba naman ng manugang na disgrasyada? Syempre hindi! Ayoko nga mag asawa ang anak ko eh. Sana mag pari na lang sya.

Pero sa totoo lang, nakakasawa na rin magpanggap na ok lang ako. di naman talaga ako desperado, pero nakakalungkot lang din na mapag isipan ka na naghahanap ka lang ng mapapangasawa kasi kelangan mo ng tutulong at mag papaaral ng anak mo. Kainis.

Naisip ko tuloy, siguro nga, mas mabuti na talagang tigilan ko na ang pagiilusyon na may darating pa. Alam ko na naman ang reaksyon ng mga tao pag nangyari yun. Nakita ko na ang lahat nang iyon sa aking kapatid na nag asawa ng babaeng may anak na. Tinanggap naman namin sila, pero iba pa rin kapag sabi nila ay “walang bagahe”.

Kaya pala may mga dalagang ina na kahit gano kaganda, gano kayaman, gano kabuti, di na nag aasawa. Kasi lahat ng pinaghirapan nila, hindi rin pahahalagahan, dahil sa kanilang (aming) estado.

Sige, tatanggapin ko na. Tutal, nakarami na ako ng nobyo. Pwede na yun. Haha. Mas masaya namang kasama ang aking anak. At pag makulit sya, pwede kong paluin, takutin at paiyakin. At di nya ko iiwan. Sana.

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Hindi ko alam kung gusto ko pa ring kausapin ang aking naging kaibigan na iyon. Sa tinagal tagal na magkakilala kami, sinubukan ko talagang gawing maayos ang pakikitungo sa kanya para maayos naman kahit papano ang imahe ng mga Pilipina sa paningin ng mga taga ibang bansa. Pero sadyang ganun, mahirap nga sigurong baguhin ang nakasanayan na. At sanay na tayong maliitin nila. Nakakalungkot lang.