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It woke me up with the silly feeling that I will be seeing you again soon. Forgive me for using the word ‘silly’ because I don’t have any logical means to make it happen without putting you to a ton of pains. How long has it been now? I hope you have not been counting, because I haven't. If time lost is time I owe you-- I will forever be indebted. Let me pay you in love when we meet again. Though I can never pay you enough, I promise, I’ll pay you as immensely as possible.  I’ll also pay you by not hurting the people you love and by waiting for the right time.  When we meet again, you can charge me for all my shortcomings. I’ll pay you with my two ears so that I can listen to things you’ve been wanting to tell me. I’ll pay you with my two arms ready to embrace you.  When we meet again, I’ll pay you with all the remaining time of my life. And I'll keep paying you until my heart beats its last. When you see me and you burst into tears, please hide your face on my chest beca...

When I grow up I want to be a little boy.

I dedicate this book to that one precious reason I need to live— my Sofia Clare Gabrielle. WARNING: This is a children’s book for sensible adults. Surprises bring out that child in me. The feeling of being innocent of what to happen draws excitement and challenges the faith that I have. Deep in my heart, this book is never a thing I thought I can make because with all my limitations I understand that I really cannot come up with this one. I can only play with words. To animate the message so as to touch the hearts of the readers will always be beyond my knack. This piece I will never claim mine alone because I am only a small fragment of the stories you are about to read. I give everything back to Him who has blessed me with fellows whom I love and love me; who hated me and then forgave me; whom I forgave and now learns to return forgiveness. This is also for you who have left a piece of yourselves in me. Remember that we and that child in each of us are th...

Yes, you don't know.

Hi, Babylove. In a few days from now you’ll be 5 years old. I don’t know if you are now able to read and understand messages such as this. I don’t know and that’s my fault. I know where to go to personally see how you are doing. I’m sorry If I choose to keep things  this way--because this is the best way that I can love you for now. This way you have peace of mind. This way you are out of trouble. This way you don’t have to choose. This way the only wrong is me—none about you nor with the rest of the people you love. It has never been this saddest. This sadness cannot be compared to any degree of emptiness, loss and pain. But I have to take this and believe in God. Heaven knows I’ll trade the remainder of my life today just to see you in a minute that doesn’t cause you confusion and pain. Although apparently things are not yet ok, everything is being re-aligned by God. Slowly yet lovingly everything’s gonna be alright.  Someday, I’m going to see and hug you tig...

I don’t say, “I’m glad it happened”. Neither will I ever say it in any future time. But it ought to happen. Reasons? So many. One is—so that I can rise for His glory. And that is the process I am presently striving for. I’m no longer counting the months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds, milliseconds… The process is undeniably painful but it’s worth every bit of stab, bite, punch, kick, strike, sting or whatever equivalent agony it can be. One very close cousin and a Franciscan Friar individually told me, “You are gonna write your story. It’s not gonna end today. You are just going to close this chapter and open a new one. And the book will inspire many because the story is going to be beautiful” These past 8 months (oops, I did count, anyway) have been the longest 8 months of my life. It is in this facet of my struggles that I’ve found and re-discovered people who had helped me fight the battle. And I am winning. No, not in the legal way because nothing in that ...

Yes, it's fragile. The debris can cut. Mend it or throw it away.

I still wake up without belief that my mom is gone. It's the wrong side of the bed again. One time my 3 year old daughter caught me in the bedroom keeping my emotions. I was sure that as tender as her mind is, no matter how I tell her, she will not grasp what I was going through. Alright, I told her nothing. " Tatay, you are crying and I know why. You missed my Lola, didn't you? my daughter said while trying to reach both my back and eyes. She wiped my tears with her hands. She rubbed and patted my back. That instance, a 3 year old daughter was stronger than her 35 year old  dad ;) 'know what ' tay ? I cried too whenever I missed you and nanay. Sometimes whenever you leave me for work I really get sad. Don't worry Tatay . You have me here. Then she hugged me tight that I felt two people were embracing me. Then she re-assured me, "I'll always take care of you"

His Time, His Way, His Reason

DUE CREDIT:   Don’t Give Up On Irreconcilable Differences

Being a good husband is not mine to credit. It is always acclaimed to the wife being good. ~my personal interpretation to Sir Bert Hautea-Simpas 's answer "it depends on who your wife will be" to my question "will I make a good husband?"

(found in my journal last Christmas) During our puerile years me and my sister were not introduced to Santa Claus and vice versa. As a result, we conceived our own Santa Claus as we aged. She is that wonderful person who always unhesitantly gave her best to make me and my sister at our happiest. And yes, it never stopped even until we, her children, got married. No socks dangled on our wall were ever filled with gifts. But our hearts were satisfied with all unconditional love that resentment has no more room to fill in.  We were raised to take pride on the things that cannot be taken away from us-- our principles, the truth, our character. I am sure she is happy to have finally seen her Creator. She is now in eternal rest and joy while rubbing elbows with the saints with whom she always pleaded intercessions while on earth. For now, I would write to that one and only Santa we have had. No socks, I promise. Because most have worn out while others are still in the la...

It will never be the same again. IMAGINE A SUPER STORM’S FRESH VESTIGE-- TORN PARTICLES, SCATTERED DEBRIS AND DIRT, AND A SCENE OF HOPELESSNESS. THAT  WAS  MY HEART  AND  MY  MIND  THE  VERY  MOMENT  OUR  MOTHER  BREATHED HER  LAST. I was bargaining during the days when my mother was in the ICU. I would, without exemptions, trade anything. I dropped other prayers so as to focus on one so significant for the moment. I was praying for my mom to live and to be well again. God heard me. I'm sure He did. There's no way He would have not seen and heard me beg because synchronized with my breathing I bombarded Heaven with that single prayer. I felt He uncaringly dropped my petition. I HOPED He would reconsider. But as days dragged me along, I saw and heard no signs that my prayer was to be granted any sooner or later. Am I to be denied by a God who is said to be omnipotent and loving? Like a child to his father, I a...

A Few Things… Some things you cannot fix, even if you have tried countless times. May it be your self destructive boyfriend/girlfriend, a toxic friend, or horrible job. Some things are meant to be left broken, that way you can move forward to something better. Bad things happen, but it can always be worse. In any disposition, there’s always something to be grateful for. It’s hard, but you’ll survive, and in retrospect you will realize, “everything that has happened was worth it.” #thoughts Credits to : http://vagabondwithflowers.tumblr.com/post/83030752301/a-few-things?og=1&fb_action_ids=10202456870077018&fb_action_types=tumblr-feed%3Apost

FRIDAY THE 14TH. Scary title? Oh no, slow it down. I’m just writing a love story  again . And so please slip in your prejudices over what course this another love story will end up. And imagine that this is the first love note I have ever written. Well, this one you would not have to imagine: This is dedicated to the last woman who would’ve to own my heart—my wife. As such, how about re-entitling it:  FEBRUARY 14th— The Day of Hearts.  Good now? To the hopeless romantic out there who, just like me, had stumbled and fallen-- lend me a chance to prove that I have stood up and made up with whatever I came short of. There were times when my balls stretched back and hid inside my anus. But those were my embarrassing days. I was really sorry. I learned huge lessons. Therefore, friends, with due respect and out of love for my wife, let’s begin the story without reference to any of my past accounts. Downgrade your expectations. This isn’t the kind...

For all the good things; and for all the things in which the good in them I haven't seen yet, thank you Lord.

I am blessed. And for my great God I dedicate to write this one. That was Monday noon. The sky was grey as covered by a blanket of heavy nimbus clouds ready anytime to burst. We were having a good time—me and my friends. It’s a housewarming I attended. And as usual I came punctually with the basis that they had not yet started the ritual until I arrived. Ok, I was late but by an excuse. And though not thoroughly announced, I appreciated them for waiting. They have been very tolerant with me in many ways. It’s a good feeling surrounded by friends regardless of the weather; regardless of the timing.  When I was young I would dream as if life would never end. I knew I can encompass infinity. My lifetime then was not time bound. Now,  I am in my mid-life and have been hit by a really heart wrenching ailment. Life is short, I realized. Let me tell you. I’ve owed my past—thru pain and injury I inflicted to my fellows and myself. And now at a reflective ...