Blood Sugar

(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...

Behind every man’s success is a woman… before that same man is also that same woman who shields the man from imminent adversaries. That man is the child and that woman is the mother who steps in advance to guard against the looming danger and then sits down behind him to become one of the audiences to applaud. The woman; the mother. The man; the child. I want to be the husband and father that my wife and children will be proud of. I want to be the best husband to my wife-to-be and; be the best dad to my children-to-be. It's a tough goal but I gear to be the perfect contrast of my father. When I was very young I described a family as comprised by lola, tito, tita, pinsan, ate and nanay. But when I began to attend to school and as I memorized to sing and recite nursery rhymes about family I discovered a slight difference from what I used to believe about. I was confused. But I did not mind. "Who is your father?"-- I finished my grade one as first in the honor l...

I’ve kept on wondering what else my mother cannot do. I have asked this because I was raised by she whom I perceive to be the most powerful among all of God’s creatures. I should add: when I was very young I never admired superman, the president, my teacher, ‘wok with Yan’, ms. universe, the pope, etc. in their respective aspects as much as I admired her. She is a human par excellence.  Yet slowly I noticed that even a super-human grows old and gets sick & weak. I had denied these to myself. But with obvious changes like her hair fading to gray & white, her age 61 this year, her health no longer as good as before and her memory slightly fading, I should accept that she, too, has limitations. But where did my mom’s superpowers go?  Flashback-- we did not have our TV until I was 12. But our mom managed to buy a radio which was enough to muster the three of us together especially in the evening listening to Beinte Quatro Oras, Si Mata, Gabi ng Lagim, Tiya Dely...