Blood Sugar

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...