TAMANG SENTI!

CRY FOR HELP

My husband left the country. We saw him off at the airport and watched him leave. We cried, though silently. The few days after he left was sad. It was no joke to find your room empty when for the past 7 years I would be greeted by my noisy husband and kids playing in the bedroom.

But then, the mind-centered in me prepared for that instance already. I have processed the situation bravely even before he left. I cried briefly then after a few days, I was OK and I moved on with life the usual way…the usual busy way.

I have said over and over again, I hate goodbyes. I hate people leaving me because (as Paul McCartney said) “they always took a piece of me with them.” Something about goodbyes makes me so insane that every time it is said, I would feel like dying.

But my husband’s leaving elicited a different reaction, I felt so passive and so strong. Maybe, my mind and heart said that for the longest time I always cried for people who didn’t even cry for me, it is now time to be indifferent. Or maybe, it was an instinctive response, a defense mechanism because I fear I will be left with nothing because as I have said, I always have allowed significant people to take a piece of me.

I didn’t feel any pain or loneliness inside me. I panicked a little, but then I understood at once. I needed the strength for my children.

I remained strong for my kids. In every trial I hold on to them aside from holding on to the Divine. But there was one instance when my strength was suddenly conquered and swallowed whole by vulnerability.

One day, I found myself crying inconsolably and desperately.

The sudden depression attack was caused by the very reason I made myself so strong: my three- year old son, Mak.

From the very moment Mak learned to move robustly, Nonoy and Mak would have their own exclusive play of “Papacquiaowin ko ikaw!” Mak with all his might would punch Nonoy in his tummy or chest or at his back, anywhere Mak could reach. Then Noy would fake being beaten then after awhile he would surprise Mak of his regained strength and Noy would tickle him until Mak would shout: tama na!

Right after that Pacquiao portion, when they are both tired from the active boxing match, Mak would give Nonoy’s eyes, ears, nose, lips his charmed kiss. Charmed, meaning after kissing each part, that part would be immobile. His eyes will cease to wink, his nose will cease to move (he would actually cease to breath), his mouth cease to talk, until his whole body would become motionless as a mannequin. The only thing that would make him move again is when Mak would shout at him.

That was their private world that I dare not invade. I am the typical touchy mother. I hug him a lot, I kiss him a lot, I am the warm and romantic Mom, while Nonoy is the active, the rough, loud Daddy that he is and Mak simply adores him for that.

When Nonoy had left, you could never see any sign that Mak seemed not OK. Well that is understandable because he is just 3 years old, unlike Darla who would cry and tell me that she misses her Dad very much.

But one day, I was greeted by Mak’s yaya with a news that caught me off-guard. When Mak saw Kuya Tato (my sister in-law’s husband) early that day, Mak ran excitedly to him then gave him several “pacquiaos” in his tummy. Kuya Tato, unaware of what he was supposed to do, gave him a hug. Mak, maybe realizing that he would not get the usual response, let go of Kuya, went upstairs and into the bed to lie down and watch TV. That was the same night when he first told me that he misses his daddy.

No one could imagine for how long and how hard I cried that night. I cried relentlessly for seems like years. I cried that there is pain somewhere which my son could not understand. He felt that there was a vacuum, he felt the difference, he felt the emptiness, yet his mind and heart was not mature enough to discern what was happening. I saw the sadness in his eyes and it was tearing me apart.

I cried for him, I cried the tears that he would not cry. I cried because there is a pain that I felt by just looking at him. In a lot of instances, I would shield my children from pain. I would think of them and hold on to them if there are some decisions that I would have to do in my life. I would not even think of what could make me happy, but I already made it my commitment to give up and sacrifice good things in life if it would mean not making my children happy. I am crying so hard I could no longer stop and I no longer knew what I need in order to stop.

Then suddenly, I was crying for different reasons. I was crying because I was crying alone. I was crying for significant people I draw strength from in the past who were gone already. I cried for friends who promised me their “friendship for life” but who were not here to listen to me. I was crying while wishing that someone is there to simply just be there for me, they really don’t have to say a word or be near me physically, just their mere existence and the security in knowing that they are still in my circle of life would be enough. Is this the price I have to pay for choosing to be silent for awhile? Have I not deserve in my life a deeper and intimate kind of friendship which transcends all the obvious human principles and conditions?

I suddenly felt like Mak, there is some pain that has grasp my being and I could not understand it. I lost it again. I lost the composure, the peace, the strength. Once again, I fell.
At the back of my mind I saw one good lesson that Mak is trying to teach me. Mak after that situation, played with his dinosaurs, and he watched TV. He did not wallow in his grief. He was confronted with a certain situation, he felt it, then let it go. He was back to normal. While I, on the other hand, was crying so hard in the dark. I was depressed again. I was crying for several reasons not really related to that particular situation. I realized, I was crying for so many issues buried in the past but I was unable to face because I busied myself with building so many shields and walls to protect myself from getting hurt. I said I was strong. Yet in that particular moment, I was tired of being strong. Hence, I cried.

I don’t know for how long I cried because I fell asleep. And when I woke up the next day, I was again in a hurry to face the day, the usual way…the usual busy way.

This happened a few days ago and until now I still cry in my sleep.

I am awaiting God’s miracle to work in me because my creativity is running out. I know in my heart that there are far greater things that will come out amidst what is going on right now in my soul. I pray that God would break the barrier and deliver me… until I cry no more.


A Dose of Vitamins for the Soul

Break My Untrue Heart by Bo Sanchez

Come oh God and search my heart-
Break the things unbroken yet in me.
Come oh God into my inmost parts-
Break all things in me not built for you.

Break this oh God my untrue heart-
and my other loves and lords and lying dreams.
Break this oh God my untrue heart
and the rival gods and powers within my soul

Take my heart home, conquer me alone
My God.

THE SONGS OF MY LIFE

I remember quite clearly what Kris Aquino commented, when she was interviewing a group of talented singers, that made me nod in approval. “We do not have to say much in order to express whatever we feel and how strongly we feel them. The songs that we hear do that for us.”

We all have songs we consider as our favorites or songs we feel are close to our hearts because they express what we feel at that certain moment. Songs could even trigger the tears that we are unable to shed. When we are sad and we hear our songs, we cry out all the bottled up emotions inside, then things are a bit better.

I love songs and I also love to sing. There are also certain moments when I even write my own songs if there is something I feel so strongly about and there is simply nothing that could come close to describing the feeling. Aside from the usual popular hits at a given time, I would have songs to describe the relationship I am in, and the certain mood that that particular relationship is trudging.

For those who are or had been in love, you will see that as any love story goes, my songs are happy and romantic at the start, then miserable and heart-breaking and disgustingly sentimental through the end.

For instance, I remember loving the song “First Love” from the Pirate’s Movie which starred Christy Mc Nichol and Christopher Atkins (which as the song suggest is a song associated with someone I consider my first love). Then when I learned that he was courting someone else, I shifted and sang the song “No One Can Love You More” by Menudo then the Song “I Know Him So Well” and Anything for You.” (Ugh, this topic makes me shiver!)


Then when someone came again, I would sing the song “It Might Be You” by Stephen Bishop or Something New In My Life by the same artist and the song “To Love Again” by Sharon Cuneta. Then when the relationship ended again, I picked the song “We Are Friends,” if I am not mistaken by Nonoy Zuniga. That line of the song which I remember I love most was “and when the times get rough and tough I’ll be there for you, you’ll never be alone because I’ll stay by your side, forever we will be friends.” I guess, I picked that out because I remember I was promised (and I think I also did promise) that even when the love relationship would end, my former boyfriend and I would treat each other as friends. Ask me now, and I will tell you that really, promises are made to be broken. We drifted off as friends, and decided we’re better off as strangers!

Even for my very special friends that did not become my boyfriends (I am not trying to brag here, but yes, there were quite a number of them. Not all people that we hold dear are meant to become our boyfriends, sometimes they are better off as our friends), I would still choose to have a song for them. I remember singing the song “You” by Carpenters for someone so dear to me, that everytime I would hear that song now, I would smile and think of that friend of mine. I guess, I am in a way compelled to smile or feel light because the lines of the song goes “you are the one who makes me happy when everything else turns to gray…you are my light, and my soul, my inspiration, just like the old love song goes…you are one of the few things worth remembering.”

Then for my beloved husband, I actually have three songs that I would sing for him or that we would sing for each other. “Head over Feet” by Alanis Morissette (we love the song when we just started dating in 1997. Also, that was the time when Alanis was at the peak of her career, so I guess everyone just have to love her songs), then the song “Beautiful In My Eyes” by Joshua Kadison, then the song “Grow Old With You” by Adam Sandler which became a topic of one of my articles few months ago.

It was a crazy process in my whole life story, that years after I have gotten over the feeling and the experience. I would say “Yuck, I can’t believe I was that OA and corny.” Of course that reaction are for those non-serious ones. There were relationships which I consider so pure and sacred that I dare not insult the memories. The ones that I laughed at, are those relationships I wanted to erase in my memory, speaking of defense mechanism, and the obssession to forget the foolishness of my youth.

I admit it is quite a corny practice. But then who is not corny when one is in love? I even would admit that I am even cornier because I am really by nature a hopeless romantic. Hay, if I may borrow a line from one of my favorite films Under the Tuscan Sun: “What is it about love that makes us all so stupid?”

But then looking closely at this simple phase of my life, I would still be grateful of these songs, because today, they remind me of how foolish and flawed I was, that I became in a sense humble and compassionate whenever I see lovers who are acting foolish and stupid. These songs would remind me to keep my feet on the ground and try to understand that just as I had been dumb before, it is alright to witness and tolerate friends who are dumber. But most importantly, the songs of my life, remind me that at certain moment of my life, I was happy. People or Loved ones (friends or not at present) at one point in my life brought joy into my life. The relationship may have ended badly, but I can never deny the fact that there had been good times. I may have at one point in my life hated a certain person so much because I was badly hurt, but I can never erase the fact that before I was put into so much pain, I considered that person as someone so good and so precious. Before I knew it, I only was reminiscing not the bad times, but the good times I had with that person. I am reminded not of the bitter times that I spent with that person, but I am only reminded of how good and wonderful that person was when I was being loved by him…and before I even realize it…I am smiling NOW.

A dose of Vitamins for the Soul

For all the love relationships that you have had in your life, do not be sad it ended, but be glad it happened.



MAMA

Who ran to help me when I fell and would some pretty story tell, or kiss the place to make it well? My mother.
-Ann and Jane Taylor

I have been a mother for six years now, but I still could not confidently say I am a good one. There are moments when I still find myself crying because I am simply unsure of what to do. I am unsure if what I am doing manifests the love that I have for my children. I jokingly said to myself, I needed a manual on how to become one because being a mother is such a complicated and delicate task.

It is also so hard and so sad I always trace my inefficiencies as a mother to my lack of experience of having one.

My mother died in a vehicular accident when I was seven. Until now, I could still recall the pain of that moment when my Papa held me so tightly, crying relentlessly, telling me my Mama was gone. I felt at that very moment that I died myself. And what makes it more painful is the fact that if you will ask me now to go back some more and recall my happy moments with her when she was still alive, . I could not. I totally have no recollection at all of what she used to be as my mother.

I am aware that we could store in our memory fragments of the past as far as when we were still toddlers. I asked my husband of his experiences as a kid and he started retelling the stories by saying “I remember when I was five years old...” How I envy him.

He can remember every little detail of how Mama Baby used to be when he was still a child, and all I can remember of my mother was her death.

I could have repressed and pushed to my unconscious all my happy moments with her maybe because I felt I didn’t need it anyway. Or it could be that it is my way of protecting myself from being too weak or maybe because it has been so long, the feelings were too obsolete, and could no longer assist me in my life now.

So I managed to move on with my life. I survived high school and college and I worked in several companies. I am still working now and starting to see success, I have my own family. I have a lot of friends, and very few intimate friends. These are what my life is made up of at the moment. Yet I still regret not having a mother.

It is as though I went through with life, flaunt of being satisfied and yet deep inside me is a vacuum, a hunger, a desperate need to experience embracing my mother, simply lying in bed with her arm as my pillow, confiding my deepest secrets to her and arguing with her.

I feel that there is a lot of things to do, of words to say, and experiences to tell to a mother. To borrow a line from Josh Groban’s song A Broken Vow, “I’d give away my soul to hold you once again. . .”

But in spite of the sadness I am feeling, God knows so well how to heal the pain. He gave me a lot of wonderful surrogate mothers wherever I go.

I remember a couple of years ago, I had the rare experience of being treated well by my former boyfriend’s mother. She treated me as if I was her own daughter. She would cook my favorite fried liver, pinakbet and leche flan. Another one is my friend Hester’s mother, whom I also call “Mommy.” We would spend all day talking and watching TV shows. We had our intimate moments which up to now I dearly treasure.

I also have now my mother-in-law. I feel, she cares a lot for me because my husband would enviously tell me that Mama always asks where I am or how I am and the kids, forgetting to ask if he is fine or not.

And now, I have with me my bestfriend Rachel’s Mama. Tita Chato has been around (in my life) for years. Since Chel and I did things together (from Elementary to college and even after college), Tita sees to it that she is always present in our lives. That is why when Chel left for New Zealand, I promised that I will look after Tita.

It gives me a certain feeling of fulfillment to be able to channel the love and affection that I have inside to someone who is never really different from my perception of what a mother is. She is the closest thing to reality. I also feel fulfilled when I see her appreciative of my presence because she knows that what I was doing was sincerely for the love of my bestfriend at first, but later was transformed into something deeper and that is, for the love of my mother.

I still wish I had known my mother. I still wish I have her by my side now. But I know that whatever is missing in my life should not be a hindrance to what I could be.

I should not feel sad and incomplete at all. I have been blessed with several mothers in my life, and now I am blessed with a chance to be a mother to my children. I should not fail now. I should not be overly conscious of what to do and not what to do as a mother. I just have to love.

SILENCE DOES GOOD

Not so long ago (yet it feels like ages ago), my soul was shaken. My trust in the Divine which inspires my passion was put into test- and in that first test of faith, I failed. While I used to brag that I am in a sense evolving into a higher being, I failed. I responded to a certain circumstance with my used-to-be-human way. I responded with fear, anger, hatred and pride. Before I knew it, all that I worked for to strengthen my soul crumbled into pieces. Worse, I was so irrational to manifest all the ill-feelings. As a result, I ended up in pain because I pushed my self-respect and dignity so low. I felt so ashamed because, I have to admit it, that in that particular instance, I failed to practice what I preached and I fear I already lost my credibility. I felt so low and so hurt at having hurt another soul. No one, in my position could understand the depth of what I felt.

I wanted so much to patch things up, to repair the damage, to regain what was lost. Yet, something tells me not to act. I opted to go within. I opted to be silent. It was the only way I have never tried, been afraid to try although it kept on pushing and asserting itself into my awareness. It was the only way that I felt would help me forgive myself. I knew for a fact that the person I hurt, had forgiven me already. That is one truth that I will never doubt. All that was left for me to do is to redeem myself, for the sake of myself (alone).

Although shattered, I never lost hope that I could swim through all this feeling of shame and despair in order to be a better person. I believe that in life there are really no wrongs, only lessons to be learned.
In my silence, I learned a few good lessons: First- that there is, in a deeper sense, a truth in the saying that “less talk, less mistake.” It is quite cowardly to adopt that because it is trying to hinder oneself from taking risks and gaining more awareness of the world and what is in it. When we talk, we ask questions, we clarify, we get feedback, we communicate, and consequently, we learn. But then, I am temporarily depriving myself of all that. In my silence, I simply would want to LET GO of whatever things that would come to me that would normally elicit a wild reaction from me. Letting go does not mean being passive or indifferent towards a situation or people, it is simply, trusting that in the path of life people move in certain directions that is always in line with what God would want them to be. And if they would go astray, God is there to redirect their path.

That was beautifully illustrated by Iyanla Vanzant (a priestess, and the author of the book which I am presently reading right now).She said that there is a big difference between trusting somebody and putting your trust in somebody. “When you put your trust in someone, it means that you expect them to do what they say they will do. You place your reliance on words or promised action rather than the Divine,” and when they failed to act according to your expectations, you get hurt. Why? Because you failed to recognize that there is a Divine presence as every small detail in ones life takes its form. You blame people rather than embracing the experience or the circumstance as a lesson from the Divine.

“But when you trust someone, you see them in the highest light possible, knowing that no matter what they may do, it does not change who they are at the core of their being. You are not reliant on people, you have learned to rely in the Divine presence that is within them. You know that with them and for them that the eternal light of truth in their soul will shine forth…eventually;”

Second Lesson- It sometimes help to run away, or shy away (temporarily) from things that I feel cannot uplift me or cannot help my soul from evolving. I realized that I always have the freedom to do that. It is definitely not the people (there is nothing wrong with people), but it is the circumstance in which my life, in connection with their lives are weaved. In my insecurity, I have relied and depended on significant people to complete me (because even religion tells us that we should rely on people), but then, I realized that for the longest time that I have pleased people, depended on people, hold on to relationships and friendships, there is always the other side of the road that I also need to explore, and that is being alone. I don’t mean hiding again in seclusion (my used-to-be-life). No, I wasn’t overwhelmed with the joy (or fear) I found in being around with people. It just means strengthening my soul, exploring my deepest self, independent on others. It means realizing that I had been created in God’s image and likeness and hence, complete already. I only have to recognize what is within. I only have to acknowledge what I am and what I can be with the acceptance that I am fully-equipped. All that is left for me to do is to share to others my being complete (I know, I have written about this already. But my being human needs to be reminded every now and then).

I have been silent, and I had an amazing realization. There is something in it that I used to fear that turned out to be a blessing. Silence is good. Silence is peace and serenity and tranquil. I was almost tempted to think that a speck of peace (once in awhile amidst a very chaotic world) is unattainable. That peace is synonymous with death. It is not. Look! I am still alive. In silence, life seems simpler (though I know, that one of this days I will get bored again of a simple life, but that again, is the normal path of life for someone who’s got free will!). I am back on my feet again. I welcome my soul from opening up again. To reiterate, God is never stingy on giving people second chances (again and again and again). God is always willing to give each of us a fresh start. And I know I have the freedom to embrace that TRUTH.
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A Dose of Vitamins for the Soul: If you are also a lover of feel-good-movies, try watching Under the Tuscan Sun which stars Diane Lane. Aside from the relaxing tour to the beautiful Tuscany, is a lesson about life’s thousand chances if we will only bravely take the risk and choose.

cerella