roll with the punches

Someone told me about her version of the old adage that goes:
"Huwag mong gawin sa iba kung ayaw mong gawain nila sa yo."


and her version goes like this:
"Huwag mong gawin sa iba kung ayaw mong gawain nila sa anak mo."




In English, it means "Don't do unto others what you do not want them to do to your kids."


It got me thinking and I agree with her on this, that sometimes you can take crap from other people because you know in one way you deserved it as you may have done it to some other people too. Now, what if it happens to your kids? It's a different story, right? 


Case in point: If other people bully you, it's OK. It can be annoying but it's OK. If people lie to and steal from you, it's not really OK but you can move on. So what if your own kids get those kinds of crap? Hmm. Some people would say they'd rather be hurt or pained; than seeing their own children suffer. It's just like that. Crappy, ain't it?

I have been missing my sister so much these days. I know she's going through a lot that may be too much for some, but she's a strong and willful woman. So I try to be there for her in spite of, that's what sisters are for. 
I hope she knows how much I love her and support her. All of us in the family do.


That's her in the photo and I can try to come up with a list of what she might be thinking about at this exact moment that this picture was taken. Although I'd rather not share it here... She might read this and may not like it if I did. 
But I can share this --- she could be thinking of her two beautiful kids; Angel Fredelle Mishka and Mikhail Kendric, what the future holds for them. She is a wonderful mother to them; which isn't really surprising as she has shown me her motherly instincts even when we were just kids ourselves. And to think that she's my younger sister, if you didn't know that I'm the eldest child in the family. What did surprise me was that she has turned around her life to try to make it better for them. She never gave up, no matter how hard life pushes her. And I really admire her for that. I don't think I can be half as good as a mother as she is; but she will be my inspiration. That's for sure.




sending my love to you
ster ♥

8-21-18-22-5

A friend once shared to me that he is estranged to his father, or rather his father is estranged to him. I'm not quite sure. He goes on that it's been 3 years now since he last saw or even spoke with his father. That he may or may not see his father when his father may or may not come home.
A shiver went up my spine. I can't imagine what he must be feeling. Is it longingness? Or does he feel resentment?
He doesn't really share his feelings. He barely even shares stories about him to others. He hardly trusts people enough to share his past or innermost thoughts, that he'd rather stay quiet and mull over his thoughts with a smile tugging on the side. There are layers and layers of him that no one can really be too sure.
To some, he can be a bit mysterious. To me, he's also just sad.
I wonder now, as I look back, if he only felt resignation, as if in defeat of an unnamed war. A war that will probably never end; as other faceless, nameless children would also have to fight in their battles to try to fit their lives into their fathers'.
Once a father, he will always try to be what his father never was to him - a dad who is going to be there for his son, a dad who teaches him the values and beliefs he needs to survive in this life, and a dad who showed all his love and care enough for the son to grow.
Maybe in time, he can say that he is a better father to his son than his father ever was to him.
That is one wish I have for my friend.
xoxo
Sent from my iPhone

Day 1

The only person who really knows me, who cares about me and loves me is now hurting because of me. I lied to him yesterday. I was scared to let him know where I was and who I was with because we might fight again. I didn't want us to fight. But he found out. I could never really lie to him, he knows. He always knows me. Now, he wants to end our more than 7-year relationship.
And now I am scared. I'm really scared because I don't know what to do now. He has always been my shoulder to cry on, my strong arm to carry me through a difficult day, my bestfriend who never lets me down. I know there's no way to take back what I did, but I wish I can! I wish I never lied! It was so stupid to think he won't know about it.
I know he's had enough of me now. He wants to move on without me.
How painful his words are to me now! I've never been so hurt by him, but he is in so much pain he because of me. He said he loves me still, but it's not enough anymore as his trust for me has gone completely. How can we move forward together when that basic requirement is now lost?
I cannot stand the pain of losing him. But more than that, I can't stand the pain of knowing he is hurting because of me.
Guilt. Regret. Sadness.
They are my companions today.
I told him that I'll always be here for him but he replies that I am making it harder for both of us. He really just wants nothing to do with me anymore. How can I change things???
Please Lord, tell me what to do.




Day 1 now ends...

I am a Filipino.

Warm tears keep trekking down my face once it started. I tried in vain to stop them from falling. It was the first time I felt a sense of awareness or enlightenment; but instead of feeling pride from the wisdom I felt, I can only feel pain. It hurts me to realize that I have been a lukewarm Filipino my whole life. I cannot blame this from my environment --- always being exposed to western brands of clothing or eating habits or paradigms, movies, songs and a lot of other things --- because I know I always have a choice. A choice to be Filipino and to show to others that I'm proud to be one.

Never was there a day was I ever guilty of choosing something American over something Filipino-made. I remember I had an argument with my sister a long time ago, about what was better to snack on --- potato chips over puto kutsinta (or was it palitaw?). I felt good I won that fight, but now I feel ashamed thinking back.

I used to think that just because US and all the other 1st world countries are progressive because they are better, and that my own nation sucks because we are still underdeveloped. So many people from all over the world has been proud of what the country had to offer --- abundant natural resources, hospitable and God-fearing people and a government that opens its arms to all kinds of trade. The same reasons which have been abused by Filipinos and by other people. And that made me feel tired, exhausted. I thought that there is no hope for my country from the graft and corruption of the government, poverty and illiteracy for a big chunk of my country men, and from people like me who are lukewarm. The same people who stand back and do nothing but talk back and complain about the situation of the Philippines, thinking that they could only help by discussing the problems and dissecting the causes and babbling about grand ideas without even taking a step to really helping the country. I am one of them.

But I do not want to be anymore. I want say that --- I was one of them --- in the future. So I can share what my mistakes were and show to the others how and what I learned. Though I still need direction and guidance as I don't know where to even start... But I just want to be a better Filipino than I was for the most part of my life.

Forgive me if I'm also writing in English as I am more eloquent than in Filipino. It's not an excuse, but still I need to learn how to write (and speak) better Filipino language.

So, you might wonder when and where this all happened? This was last Sunday at Bread of Life service. I was already crying since the start of the praise & worship (first song, chorus). I can't even understand why. It was a miracle for me. No one touched me. No one was even really talking in front, but a group of musically inclined youths who shared their talents to lead the songs in the service. I cannot even say that what I felt was also universally felt by everyone in the congregation that time for both my seat mates were neither crying nor sobbing, like I was. I just couldn't describe the overwhelming feeling I had, the sense of enlightenment and feeling of burden all at the same time. The hunger I felt to hear more of the music and the sense of purpose.

Yet, I am scared. I am scared that I might fail. Oh dear Lord, please help me.