Paalam

Paalam, Grace aka Ash, Gray, Grasya.

Your journey on earth was short, but I hope it was a happy one. Run free in doggy heaven. We'll play again someday.

I will miss you so dearly. 

Only the strong and brave

I forgot who said this, but I sadly agree with him/her:

Biking in Metro Manila is only for the strong and brave.

It is... still. And I hope someday it won't be anymore.

***

At Padre Pio Chapel, Eastwood...

It's my first time to attend mass and stand among many, at least a meter apart with a mask.

The atmosphere is different. Everyone is praying in earnest.

I was, too. And I cried a lot, minus the tears. Without the mask, people would see that I was crying really, really hard. They would have seen my sorry crying face, my mouth distorted. I was taking deep breaths, pretending I was still warming down from the ride, but I was trying to stop the tears.

I was crying.

Especially when I pray for everyone's health and safety. Everyone I love, everyone close to me, everyone I know my whole life, and everyone I met only recently.

Everyone.

Because this veerus is terribly shitty good at taking everyone by surprise and terribly shitty good at taking anyone.

Anyone.

***

Be strong.

Be brave.

Have faith.

Have hope.

Have tapang kalabaw 👍

45!

I say my new age with an exclamation point because it feels so badass 😁 Moreso if you say it in Spanish.

This pandemic has been tough on everyone. But it also made me see how much I have to be thankful for. 

Let me start with a heartfelt "Maraming salamat Po sa lahat."

Thank You for my love, family, and friends, wherever they are. Please keep them all safe.

Thank You for my health. The world around me is changing, and I wish to explore it on my own willpower.

Thank You for Your guidance. In this world full of negativity, You are my refuge and strength.

Thank You for the miracles. I consider my 45th birthday nothing less than that.

Thank You.

Thank you, 2013.

It's been raining non-stop since I arrived here at the old family house in Batan, Aklan. When I took my first shower, I can only thank the heavens that the house is still intact (and that the second floor bathroom is still there).

We were lucky. Most of Yolanda's wind was absorbed by our neighbor's 4-storey apartment building from the north, while another building shielded the south side.

My mother already had most of the roofing repaired, except for the small patch at the second floor bathroom. So... it was quite a shower experience: rain trickled through the kisame (speeding up my rinsing process), and with the solitary glass window shattered, I can see the world outside and (gasp!) vice-versa.

The house is structurally intact, half of the appliances still work, and most of all, no one got hurt. That's so much to be thankful for.

What a year this has been! I don't remember ever having gone through so much turbulence in my personal life -- both at work and with family.

But with every turmoil and trial come the most memorable times of my life.

2013 is a year I should not forget. In no particular order, I look back at my personal highlights.

***

Early this year, on March 27, our father joined the Creator. He was a pioneer in his family, the very first to venture out of the very small family, geographical, and cultural circle that his clan has known for so long. To some, he was that one fruit that fell a tad too far from the tree. But in his last moments, he did good on his promise to bring us back to the roots.

We love you, Dad. We miss you. Happy New year!

***

Nelson Mandela (July 18, 1918-December 5, 2013), Cory Monteith (May 11, 1982-July13, 2013), and Paul Walker (September 12, 1973-November 30, 2013) passed away.

Walker's death has been particularly shocking to me. Sometime this year HBO featured Fast Five, and somehow I never grew tired watching it again and again. My wife could attest to this, but I had commented endlessly how well-written the script was.

***

I give thanks for Joan's smooth transition at work as her former boss retires from the judicial profession. Her new office/boss takes her closer to home, and I probably should be ready to take my work somewhere else anytime soon. ^^

***

I've seen Mayon Volcano, finally, and it is every bit as awe-inspiring as I imagined it would be back when I was just looking at the postcards.

I can also now cross-out Sagada in my Local Places to Visit list. 

And hurray Singapore (Universal Studios!) and Malaysia (Legoland!)!

***

A Catholic pope resigned -- something uncommon in anyone 's lifetime. The Catholic world was then presented a Pope unlike anyone before him, and he wants scientific data! Oh he gets the researcher in me so excited!

***

After over 15 years with mother station, I have an idea of what my weaknesses are, and one of them is handling people. This is the reason why I worked to have the communications and publications section established. Most of time it's a one-man department, but what the heck.

Every now and then, however, due to the sheer size of a project, I get drafted to do field management.

This year saw one of the biggest, most expensive projects the station has ever handled. The project was so crucial there was no room to freely choose the place to go to -- we were assigned based on how well we know the place, the people, and the language. So I, naturally, got assigned to Region VI.

Perhaps due to age and *cough* rank, my old fears were things of the past. That project re-acquainted me to all the things I love about fieldwork -- meeting new people, traveling, getting stranded in strange places, riding motorbikes on remote provincial roads, and, with some luck, rocking under the starry sky to the songs of some of my favorite local bands.

It was a difficult project, both technically and emotionally. The survey instrument was so hard to implement, and the subject re-opened our eyes to the harsh reality of poverty. We've seen mothers who never had any kind of pre- or post-natal care, children who never had a single vaccination, students who walk miles to get to their classrooms, and families so poor the only toys their children play with are the bolos and knives their parents use in the farms.

But these families opened their doors to us in complete trust, offered what meager food they have in their pots, and answered in earnest as we interviewed them for an average of three hours. This sort of hospitality is something you won't find so easily in the cities.

The project broke all our hearts, but made us better persons and so much grateful for the blessings we have.

Oh, and that project made me realize how susceptible I am to aswangs. Tsk. ^^

***

This year Joan and I explored alternative Chinese medicine (acupuncture), and had good results. The root of all my medical woes can now be explained in three words: I'm too hot. ^^

***

Thank you, 2013! It's been quite a year.

Hello, 2014!

Happy birthday, Dad!

Hi Dad,

Happy 65th birthday!

Very soon your friends and family will be flocking to your fezbuk account to post greetings on your timeline. I'll just greet you here instead.

Besides, I have not accepted your friend request for the longest time. Sorry about that, but I know someone else is handling your account, and I wouldn't want that someone poking around my fezbuk stuffs once I accept your request hee hee.

This gut feel of mine was confirmed when "you" posted something on your timeline over a week after you have been laid to rest. But!! That's okay -- you made your choices and you got to do what you got to do.

Heniway, sorry again for not finishing that tribute video I was supposed to show during the interment mass. Ate Liz chose a nice song for it:


The thing is, there are just not enough photos of you around the house, somehow. Where did all your albums go? But let us worry about that. ^^

On your special day, let me re-live the nicest times we had.

Let's go to Padi's Point! Any beer garden would do as long as there's a live band and a chance for the guests to come up on the stage and SING! You love that, don't you? We'll order our favorite pale pilsen and crispy pata (If you brought your medicines, otherwise it's vegetable sticks for us. But heck, it's your birthday!) and catch up on balitas and what-nots. Try not to talk about money -- this topic gets you all gloomy and grumpy. Let talk about business instead. Pigs, chickens, eggs, buyers, deliveries, metal scraps, fishponds, etc etc etc. How about fighting cocks? Have you been winning in those prestigious Batangas arenas lately? Are you breeding some prize fighters at the moment? What vitamins are you giving them?

Now's a good time to talk about politics, I suppose, with you a public servant now and all that thingy. With my expertise in local polling, I could give you some ideas on governance. I heard your fellow councilors say they were pushing you to be Barangay Chairman. I must say it would be quite a feat to stand up against the current Chair, but maybe with a little survey here and there, we could swing the voting preferences to your favor.

And by the fourth bottle, I should be telling the waiter that you'd like to have a shot at that microphone with your favorite song. And being the birthday boy, they should let you sing. ^^

But! I can't tell him Frank Sinatra's "My Way", which is always your first choice. I've never heard anyone sing it like you do, which is why you and Mommy make a killer duet, and why your children love singing, too. But for now, let's stick with Marco Sison's "My Love will See you Through", shall we?

Of course you will have a little speech before you sing. You would thank us, your children, for bringing you to that place, wish everyone a very good evening, and maybe compliment the singer for her looks or sexy outfit. You're a great public speaker -- your years in the teaching profession and living in Batan only made you better at charming the crowd. Your ka-barrios in Galamay-Amo will always remember the happiest party that sleepy town has ever known because of you.

I know the crowd will love your singing. You never do falsettos, and I have always wondered why I can't hit the high notes as well as you do. I suppose I only got the looks (half of it) and not the voice haha!

The songs you choose are all perfect for you. Maybe in time I would have a song list that won't get me in trouble. I should be staying away from the likes of Maroon Five and Guns n Roses, and instead go for Frank Sinatra, Matt Monroe, Marco Sison, and Nat King Cole -- your kind of singers.

And when we're done with the last round of beer, we'll be saying goodbyes while you give us your blessings (Mano po). You will give your regards to Jons (somehow you never pronounced Joan's name correctly, after all those years that I have been with her hee hee. Oh well, natatawa na lang lagi kami).

We miss you, Dad. Happy happy birthday!

Nagmamahal,
Bon, Joan, and the rest of your family

He's home

Silverio Hernandez Laroza, retired Elementary School Principal and Councilor of Galamay-Amo, San Jose, Batangas, passed away on Wednesday, March 27, 2013, due to heart attack. He was 64 years old.

Fondly called Ver or Biyo by his friends, family and relatives, Dad began his teaching career in Manila before spending most of his years as an educator in Aklan. 

If anyone thought the Akeanon language is difficult to learn, Dad learned it in less than two years. Not bad, huh?

He returned to his hometown after retiring from the teaching profession, and was elected Councilor in 2010. He left behind a legacy of hard work and camaraderie among his colleagues and community.
 

He was laid to rest at the Saint Joseph Catholic Cemetery on April 3, 2013, after a mass held at
Saint Joseph Cathedral, San Jose, Batangas.

We love you, Dad. God bless and rest in peace.

***

This was, more or less, how I announced Dad's passing in fezbuk. It felt like I was writing for the office.

There's so much more to say about Dad, only I don't know where to start.

Maybe that's it. Start.

Dad has always been the pioneer in his family. He was the first among his clan to marry someone from the Visayas -- a very brave thing, considering the word Bisaya only meant two things among Batanguenos back in the 70s: a household help, or a sex worker. 

Well, Mami, armed with education and that never-say-die attitude, shattered every stereotype Dad's clan had about Visayans. But that's another story.

Truth be told, I only know Dad as a father. A very, very strict father. Imagine leather belts, hours of solitary confinement, clean-my-gun-while-you-entertain-your-suitor hospitality, and dagger-looks -- yeah, that kind of strict.

But there were tears in his eyes when a two-inch needle was being inserted to my vein for a blood transfusion when I was in highschool. I knew then that he loves all of us, his children, so dearly. He's just not good at showing it.

Joan and I were already in Batangas on that same evening of March 27. Only then did I know my Dad as someone else -- a friend and a public servant -- from the eyes of his many relatives and colleagues.

Listening to so many stories, I knew Dad's has fulfilled his dreams, and he went away peacefully and contented. There was no heaviness in my heart, and I never bothered hiding my eyes.

I only cried when I whispered my last goodbye, and laid the rose on his casket. It felt so sad thinking that we are leaving him behind in that lonely cemetery.

But... he's home.

Reconnect

My mother is safe back home after spending a day and a half bonding with her college buddies. This is their second time to reunite after over 45 years since their graduation at PNU.

It began last year when four of them found one another in fezbuk (cue that nice FB moment music here) and decided to meet up for an afternoon of kwentuhan in Cavite. There they agreed to find the others, and make it an annual event.

And after a year of searching, last Thursday *drum roll please*, there are now five of them. My mom flew all the way to Manila to meet the same three people as last year, and another balikbayan.

I won't go into the details at the trouble my mother went through to see her college buddies. For someone with so many responsibilities, I'm amazed at the importance she gives to reconnecting with old friends.

And in some ways, it inspired me, too.

I wasn't able to attend my high school reunion last month. Too much work, I guess. It's election year.

But, of course, it would have been possible had I really, really wanted to.

The buzz in the batch's private fezbuk chat says 2016 is the next reunion.

Great.

Another election year.

Cheers to 2012!

Part of my task as the "communications guy" at the office is to put together the annual year-in-survey review -- Philippine history as seen through public opinion surveys. But just this once I'll try a quick review of what my year has been.

Places 

I haven't been moving around much. Hongkong and Macau were the only places abroad I've been to this year. I've let so many opportunities for foreign conferences pass by, only because I was too lazy to write a paper. Hopefully I come up with something for a chance to attend some conferences scheduled next year in abroad.

My domestic travels were just as dismal. Ninety percent of my work no longer require me to do fieldwork. It was only due to sheer lack of field staff that the office was forced to send me to Davao Oriental. It was a great deal, though -- it was so nice returning to that place.

But making up for everything was my first-time visit to Tabaco, Albay. I never realized Mayon Volcano, up close, could be so... mesmerizing. To see it for the first time was magical.

Health 

Four years ago, the doctor at San Benito Farm (The Farm) in Lipa City found my blood cells to be tightly packed and irregularly clustered, indicating my poor state of health.

Early this December, Joan and I went back to The Farm to celebrate her birthday. It was good to see my blood cells looking and acting more normally than before.

But this year has presented us with bigger challenges -- the soothsayer at the A-Ma Temple in Macau was very clear about this. Next year would definitely see us at full-scale effort to address this.

People 

This year we lost a dear colleague and friend, Anna Krista P. Molina. It was sudden and unexpected, but in the end we content ourselves to believing that there is a reason for everything. Instead of questioning, we remember the wonderful ways she has touched our lives.

And for all out there who have touched my life in any way -- friends old and new, friends from long-gone past, and friends from other realms -- know that I am grateful you are there.

Work 

Uhm still there, and still loving it. ^^ But it's time to leave a sort of bigger legacy next year.

Family 

I'm thankful for the blessings life has kindly given everyone in my family. There had been many challenges, but we managed to cope despite the distance. Tonight, new year will find me away from my wife, again. But throughout the year I'm blessed to go home to the person I dreamed to be with in the years passed and years to come.

Happy New Year! ^^

Traditions

Thoughts captured in my laptop while I was in our old house in Aklan -- where big, colorful geckos are easier to find than an internet connection. Overdue for posting. ^^

31 December 2011, 6 pm: A few more hours and I will again be dancing the Rigodon de Honor at the town square with my mother.

And again I welcome the New Year with my wife some 50+ kilometers away as she celebrates it with her parents. It has been like this for Joan and I in two out of five New Years we had as a couple.

Anyway, I’m happy to dance with my mother this year as this will be her first time to dance as a retired DepEd Schools Division Superintendent.

She has completed a major phase in life with flying colors, and I’ll be darned if she misses this year’s biggest dance just because none of her two sons can be her partner for just one night.

And I can tell how much she’s been looking forward for this night.

It’s taking all her will to be at tonight’s dance -- a few days ago she injured her back during a ceremony in Cadiz City, and she can barely stand.

What makes this dance so special?

Mommy has made it her tradition to represent my late grandfather, who was Father of the Year 1975.

More than half of the dance participants are not the Fathers themselves, but their children and/or grandchildren who made it their tradition to keep their respective families visible in the town's biggest dance.

So as long as Mommy can walk and keep up with the rhythm, and one of her sons is available to be her partner, this is her tradition. ^^

I just hope that that not-so-traditional hilot (one who uses a copper rod that releases electricity!) gave her enough relief from back pains to last her the night.

Update: Mommy danced the Rigodon wonderfully, thank goodness. However, she had to turn down all other dance requests to save her back. ^^

***

Just last Christmas eve Joan and I were with good friends to share Noche Buena.

I can't remember the last time I had a wonderful time on Christmas eve. Thanks to Cez, her hubby Yodz, her mom, her sis, and her sis' boyfriend for being such great hosts.

And for that super sarap handa. Yum!

Traditions. Some are really worth keeping. ^^

11/11/11

Yet another binary date that generated so much interest. ^^

I grabbed part of this fanfare and secretly hoped for something special to happen.

Truth be told, since our old AUV was brought to the service center for maintenance, I hoped that on this day somebody will place a Jose Cuervo Gold tequila, salt, lime, and shot glasses on the common work table. And people at work will join in for a nice Friday night inuman.

That, for me, is special. ^^ I miss the days when I can do just that -- bring out the booze and effortlessly lead Tech into forgetting work for a while -- and ultimately forget themselves, literally hehe.

But morning went by without anything special.

Oh wait! I called my father-in-law to ask him something about our old Crosswind. He has a BS in Industrial Education, major in Automotive, so I run to him for a second opinion on anything related to engines, cars, and motoring. He may not be savvy with the cellphone, but he is updated with the latest in the automotive industry.

Maybe that would count as special. ^^

Other than that, morning went by like any other day.

Until 1:00 p.m. came and made 11/11/11 unforgettable.

***

Lately, Joan has been immersed in a new interest -- Naruto fanfics.

I learned from her a jargon used in fanfics: AU (alternate universe).

Wikipedia defines AU as "a type or form of fan fiction in which canonical facts of setting or characterization in the universe being explored or written about are deliberately changed."

"Stories that fall into this definition are usually what-ifs, where possibilities arising from different circumstances or character decisions are explored. Unlike regular fan fiction, which generally remains within the boundaries of the canon set out by the author, alternative universe fiction writers like to explore the possibilities of pivotal changes made to characters' history, motivations or environment."

***

11/11/11. 1:00 PM.

I became part of an alternate universe.

I exist, but not. ^^

Robot!

Since my exposure to Mazinger Z and Voltes V, this has been the only thing I have in mind every time my parents asked me what I wanted for my birthday.

Robot.

By the time I reached high school, my parents stopped asking and took it upon themselves to give me more useful stuffs on my birthday.

At that point I already succeeded in making two toy robots out of recycled rubber slippers: a Voltes V replica (lost during elementary), and an original design which I called K-OS (nicely preserved in the province; photos to follow).

My mom wholeheartedly supported this little fascination of mine, and at some point almost push me to stardom. In a loving gesture, she even gave me a toy robot on my 21st birthday. ^^

And thanks to Atom of Real Steel, I'm all inspired and ready to make my third recycled robot. ^^

Awesome

"I have loved you for five thousand years."

With that last line, Frank Herbert left me again -- this time with finality. Cheers to Brian Herbert and co-author Kevin J. Anderson for closing the original Dune series. I can finally move on.

I will forever marvel at the awesomeness of Herbert's works. Without a doubt, he and many others have made my stay in this world so imaginatively wonderful.

Indeed, great works live on.

And while I have yet to own any of his products, I'm sure Steve Jobs will be the stuff of legends in many years to come.

Such a wonderful time and age we live in. Thanks to visionaries like Jobs, the world is closer to the future as I dream it would be.

We're almost there. If life be kind, I still want to see flying cars, infinite, environment-friendly power source, thinking machines, biomechs, inter-galactic travel, solution to poverty and war, and maybe the cure to common cold.

I can only imagine how thrilling the times are to our parents' generation -- they who started out with typewriters and telegrams.

Awesome times, indeed.

***

Speaking of parents, last September my mother celebrated her 65th birthday, and her retirement from the teaching profession after 44 years in service.

She is awesome -- always has been, and always will be.

It was a great weekend, and we are so proud of you, Mamidir!

Dune addiction (again)

While I search for a copy of the Sandworms of Dune, I might as well check out the second series of Dune, beginning with Dune: House Corrino (yeah, this is not following the sequence of the trilogy, but what the heck).

***

Speaking of beginning something, my wife's need to overhaul her diet spurred me to re-learn three very simple dishes: apan-apan (adobong kangkong), pinamal-han (paksiw?), and laswa (sinabawan).

Thanks to Nanay for the quick review on the last two dishes. ^^

36, and some kwento

I guess it's the way my head is wired -- my birthdays will always be special no matter what.

It doesn't matter where I am, who I'm with (if at all I'm with anyone), and what I'm doing (if at all I'm doing anything haha).

Life itself finds a way to make it memorable.

***

Last August 23, my mother-in-law and I accompanied my wife at the United Doctors Medical Center (UDMC) for her scheduled combined hysteroscopy and laparoscopy (CHL) on the morning of 24th.

The pre-operation procedure itself was already agonizing, particularly the enema. It would probably have been a bit tolerable had it not been for the IV drip that made movement so difficult -- but I guess it's the only way to keep the patient hydrated during the entire procedure.

When they wheeled her in the operating room at 8:30 AM of August 24, I was already briefed with the possibilities, and the scenarios where the doctor may summon me for my consent.

Three hours into the operation, the phone rang and I was summoned to the operating room. I was made to wear the complete surgical garb, and was welcomed by our doctor and five other members of her team at the operating table.

Joan was not visible under the green sheets. The doctor called my attention to a 30-inch screen showing a very clear live video of what the laparoscopic machine is seeing inside my wife.

Everything looked bloody, and I initially had no idea what I was looking at.

The doctor walked me through the procedure she has done so far, identifying the organs as she expertly poked them with the mechanical probes. She was able to address the cyst, and has done considerable work freeing the uterus and the bowels from adhesions.

She pointed to a group of organs that looked as if untouched. She identified the shiny, elastic flesh as the right fallopian tube, and the whitish lump next to it as the right ovary. I was glad to hear they are in good health.

With a few moves with the probes and adjustments in the camera, she then showed me the left fallopian tube.

All I said was "Oh my God..."

I couldn't take my eyes off the grotesque, bloody, discolored lump of flesh, swollen to over ten times its original size -- and it was getting so hard for me to hold back the tears.

The doctor described the status, and we agreed that it had to be removed.

Another two hours passed before I was summoned back to the OR. The doctor has already changed back to street clothes, and showed me the fallopian tube that was removed. It's as big as my pinky, only it looked like a misshaped longanisa.

An hour later, Joan was brought to the recovery room, shivering and crying. She was complaining about the cold, despite efforts of the nurses and doctors to turn off the aircon and warm her with an incandescent bulb.

Never had I felt so crushed. At that moment, I knew finally without a doubt what my weakest spot is.

Cheers to the nurses and doctors for keeping their cool even if my glares are getting a tad too murderous while I kept urging them to do something to ease her pains. In the end, they have to calmly ask me to wait at the room.

It was already past 7:00 PM when she was brought to the room.

Her first visitors, her relatives who live next to our house, came the next day.

On the morning of 26th, we received a text message that spurred Joan to have the catheter and IV drip removed: her boss and officemates are dropping by to visit by lunchtime.

Joan willed herself to wellness because of that -- she will never allow her officemates (and boss nyahaha) see her in such a weakened state. She succeeded in controlling her fevers and erratic bowel movements by the time her colleagues arrived.

Two more friends dropped by that evening.

We left the hospital in the afternoon of August 27.

Yesterday, on my birthday, we watched Cars 2 at Glorietta.

We walked a bit slower than usual, and had to be careful with what we eat, but it was my happiest birthday yet. ^^

Thank you, Lord, for this gift.

***

UDMC is an old institution better known for its cutting-edge technology in the field of laparoscopic surgery. We only have thumbs up for the excellent jobs of its doctors and nurses.

However, a downside of being in a hospital that is affiliated with a medical school (Southeast Asian College) is that you get subjected to the medical and nursing students -- and the not-so-impressive skills of some.

Three nursing students in particular stood out in terms of utter lack of bedside manners. Several times everyday for two days, we experienced what I dubbed as "The Terrible Trio".

They do not greet us when they enter the room. They do not introduce themselves and state their business until you ask them (creepy, really). They just slap the sphygmomanometer strap in Joan's arm and poke the thermometer under her arm pit without asking for her permission. They do not inform you of their readings (temperature and blood pressure) if you do not ask them. At some point, only one of them had a wristwatch.

And at all times, all of them wore makeup.

I pray to heavens that somehow these trio, all graduating on year 2012, develop some bedside manners soon.

***

Since I never post my birthday in any social networking site, it is easy to monitor the greetings I get.

The first greeting came a day early, but already it has a "belated" in it. ^^ A friend from Indonesia thought she missed my birthday. Hee hee thanks Lola!

The second came from Joan, as we woke up on the 29th.

The third came from a long-lost friend via email. Thank you, I. ^^

The fourth was a text message from my brother, and the fifth a phone call/song from my mother while we were driving to Glorietta.

On August 30, a former officemate posted a birthday app on my fezbook wall.

Shortly after that, my sister in UK greeted me through PM in fezbook.

Cheers to 36!

***

My prayers that everyone in the path of Hurricane Irene be safe.

On connections, and our good friend Mr. Penn

Since I got the 3G broadband wireless router at home, my old gadgets have been flexing their dusty Wi-Fi muscle: Sony PSP, Tungsten TX, Nokia E52, MSI Megabook VR 320X notebook, and Lenovo S10-2 netbook.

Now, whenever and wherever I am in the house, as long as the router is powered up, I can get connected to the web.

***

But with all this connectivity, I miss my connection with my family the most.

My daily interaction with my family ended when I started high school. On day one at high school, I lost my daily dose of dinner-time talks with the family, with everyone exchanging tales of how the day went, lending ears to my troublesome issues, giving advice, and keeping my inspiration burning at its brightest.

So I am forever grateful to the generous souls that kept me company around the dinner table at the end of the day for my entire high school life -- the Baylas family and the Badana family. ^^

They made the adjustment so much easier, and fun. ^^

***

It's been five years since our dear friend Penn passed away. I give thanks for the good man, the good and bad times we shared, and his legacy at the stations.

Cheers!

The end

Harold Camping's May 21, 2011 end of the world prediction would probably be the nth doomsday forecast I've heard in my lifetime.

From a tidal wave that will cleanse a little town in Aklan called Batan (heard this when I was little), to one with wider scope such as the sinking of Metro Manila under water, to a more global, horrific scale involving extraterrestrial bodies. It would be lucky if a new year enters without some sort of prophecy involving loss of lives on a massive scale.

Whatever the method of ending -- whether by flaming God's wrath, planets forming into cosmic weapons of destruction, or alien invasion -- if you know it, then it's not the end.

Oh well. This world, my world, could end anytime -- as it will eventually. If Camping was right and it did happen, I'd be at peace because I was with wifey -- we watched Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, had pesto pasta and pizza for lunch, played bowling, had pancit luglug and halo-halo at Razon's, had our teeth cleaned, had full-body massage, and passed by the place where we got married (Paco Park).

There's much yet to be done, of course. But just making each day count. ^^

And as Jack Sparrow said, "better to not know which moment may be your last, every morsel of your entire being alive to the infinite mystery of it all."

***

Speaking of endings, I thought that -- after a slew of new movies from the Disney and Marvel Studios -- moviegoers would already have developed that instinct of staying on for the possible post-credit scenes.

But still, both in the Thor and The Pirates... movies, hardly anyone stayed on, thus missing that precious peek at what's to come.

Oh well, thanks maybe to YouTube, most moviegoers need not stick around for the post-credit scenes while the guards and cleaning crew scurry around to clean up and search for any stuffs that were left behind the moviehouse.

So you see...

With so many good movies ahead (Harrryyyy Poootteeeeeerrrrr!), the world cannot end just yet haha! ^^

Happy Mami Day!

Mamidir with her anakis, circa 1990's.

Whenever my mother is with friends, she has two stories about me ready at hand: 1) I made a toy robot out of recycled slippers, and; 2) she learned the meaning of the word "sibin" when I was hospitalized for H-fever in 1988.

The first one is pretty simple. When I was in fifth grade, I drew a robot and from it made a half-foot, fully pose-able model out of old slippers.

My mom was so impressed that she thought of contacting the local media to have my so-called "talent" featured.

But I was too shy and passed on the chance at fame.

The second story was about the time a nurse told my mom, "I-sibin mo ang bata mo, Mam," to bring my fever down in case it gets too high.

For some reason my mom forgot to clarify what the word meant as she patiently tended to me as she had done everyday since I got hospitalized for H-fever -- feeding me, watching my condition, searching for blood donors, etc.

So when my fever suddenly spiked to 42 degrees C and I began making weird things with my eyes and body, my mother did everything except that mysterious "sibin" thing.

As the nurses rushed in with ice and wet towels, the head nurse asked my mother if she administered "sibin" on me.

Recalling finally what was amiss, my mom asked (in Akeanon), "Nurse, ano buot hambaeon ko sibin hay? (What does sibin mean?)"

"Amo ni ang sibin" (This is sibin.), says the nurse (in Ilonggo) as she proceeded with giving me a brisk sponge bath with ice-cold water.

"Aah, trapuhan," says my mom.

"Indi, Mam. Sibin," insisted the nurse. "Amo ni ya ang trapuhan..." (This is trapuhan...) and she took the mop and started mopping the floor.

End of story.

I guess these are two of the fondest memories she has of me.

The toy robot is neatly preserved in my old room, a reminder of how much my mother has been so proud of my accomplishments, however small they may be. She could have pushed me to fame at a young age (nyahaha), but she respected and supported what I wanted -- as she always does.

I spent seven days and my 13th birthday in that hospital (Emmanuel Hospital at Roxas City, Capiz). My blood was examined every three hours the entire time (that's about fifty skin pricks distributed in ten fingers), and the pain was surreal.

But my mother, my family, and all the good souls that kept me company in that hospital room made the experience a whole lot bearable, almost fun.

I never felt the misery or hardship of being sick. While the pain was a constant buzz, I remember the pretty nurses, one of my happiest birthday celebrations, and my mother being there constantly.

The "sibin" incident has become one of my mom's surefire hit if she needs to make a point about language differences and get a few laughs out of it.

In the end, I guess she did make me a little famous in her own way. ^^

Happy Mother's Day, Mamidir. Labs guid!

After twenty

January 14, 2011: SDHSA's Batch 1991 hit the streets at the Kalibo Ati-atihan festival. More photos at Facebook.

2011 is sure quick to show how eventful a year it will be. It’s only January and already it got me to several events, each proving to be very memorable.

The first was the high school reunion.

If you ask me what part of my life I consider the happiest, you can bet that I will say… yes, marrying my wife. ^^

That, and high school.

You see, there are perks to going though high school brain-dead: I only had the good times and none of the emo stuffs that come with growing pains. In high school I learned, in college and thereafter I understood.

After twenty years, I realize that I am still learning, and still catching on with understanding.

The things I learned during the reunion were mostly about three things: who’s got a crush on whom, who went out with whom, and who went out with whom after graduation.

But the difference with this experience now is that understanding isn’t that difficult, and there was none of that uncomfortable feeling anymore.

January 15, 2011: At Saylo club and restaurant in Kalibo. Photo courtesy of Toto Tonel-M.

It was wonderful seeing over twenty of my old classmates. Very briefly I slipped into that long lost high school personality (or was it even lost?) – revisiting old memories – before bringing everything back to the present time and life.

I’m glad I went home for the reunion. I regret having hesitations earlier, mainly because of work. But in the end the experience was priceless.

I hope more can attend the fuller event next year.

***

The other delightful events that made my visit to Aklan worth every while were the chance to see four siblings pull the most elaborate and wonderful surprise for their mother in celebration of her retirement, and my mother’s family reunion in Batan.

Happy times. ^^

January 16, 2011: With mother-side relatives in Batan.

Oral history

Forget IPad or IPhone. The first gadget I'm getting myself this 2011 is a handy-dandy video recorder.

It's always a treat listening to my father-in-law share his life experience. This morning he recounted with great detail the story behind his signature "bao"(Hiligaynon for turtle) or the turtle power tiller.

By the time we finished our morning coffee, I learned about the person who first patented the bao, how my father-in-law worked his way around that patent to come up with his own design, how these patents work, and the names behind the pioneers of mechanized farming in Panay.

Throughout his sharing one could piece together the kind of life he's lead, and how it explains his current relationship with his children.

Priceless nuggets of wisdom, as well as stinging jabs at us and the rest of today's generation -- each time I hear them I wish I could capture them verbatim.

So there, the first item in my electronic wishlist for 2011. ^^

IPad would probably be second.

Happy Mother's Day

I may not have her genetic and psychological makeup, but I'm sure darn proud that we have almost identical signatures.

Just one of the thousand things I'm thankful she's my mom.

Cheers, Mamidir! Labs guid!

Happy Mother's Day to all!