tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39125417208041719442024-03-05T14:24:26.666+08:00Sagibo Ni LorenzoWrite-ups in this blog are not intended for the readers' pleasure, but rather are mere random journals crafted according to the mood swings of the author. Nothing significant must be expected from this site. It was just constructed for the owner and his siblings to look back when memories seek its own. If you choose to stay on, just do so, but try to leave a comment at least. Enjoy your visit, and wish you exit in peace. See yah, geek!Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-49147720760317590402012-01-11T16:42:00.011+08:002012-01-12T11:56:04.265+08:00Reverie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: white; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: white; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYIO3R0CYKfmr1yEuYfaKxXkY10TGh_5BEVl2Ay6P2VYDt1kElV_U6N0HAEXqlceOTF_SpTac9WS9gJuKDCEpkvjEgCWwuiPudPGY4qIrCywfjcBVlr05zDYSRvFaQYbO6qUtWBi0nKnb/s1600/Daddy%2527s+Tree.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYIO3R0CYKfmr1yEuYfaKxXkY10TGh_5BEVl2Ay6P2VYDt1kElV_U6N0HAEXqlceOTF_SpTac9WS9gJuKDCEpkvjEgCWwuiPudPGY4qIrCywfjcBVlr05zDYSRvFaQYbO6qUtWBi0nKnb/s320/Daddy%2527s+Tree.png" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">It’s so breezy today. I just woke up and it’s almost 10:00 AM. It must be the cold winter nights. For whatever reasons, I feel so high today, and looking forward to be full of joy and happiness onwards. Sitting under my tree, I just felt a barrage of good vibes. My heart beats so fast and differently. Today seems so ordinary, yet feels so strangely special. And I don't know why.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Upon checking my <span style="text-decoration: none;">mobile</span> phone, I am astounded of 14 miscalls, 98 Facebook notifications, and a number of messages. What? How long had I slept? Oh, I feel sorry for those love-ones seeking me. So I guess I better put it in writing for all of them to see.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">My eldest son, reading from his SMS, said he dreamt of me two nights ago. But he finds it quite funny, awkward, and really crazy. He can’t understand that in his dream, he saw himself already of his present age – with his wife standing by his side as they held hands, and all three daughters giggly standing to my back watching me do the woodwork - as I was forming a top for my son out of an arm-sized dried guava branch. In my modest memory, I had him play the top, and he spins it so great. He also has some tricks where he would throw the top up back and catch and spin it on his palm. Or he would let it spin while hanging by the sling, and some further tricks that are so lovely for old people to see.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">I first met his wife when they were about to let us know of their plans to get married. I must tell you they had a whirlwind romance before jumping up to the next phase, and penniless too, Lol! Kids, really… they think love is enough to survive.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">I would never forget their eldest child. In fact, I carried her many times, even when she was just a newborn. She is our first grandchild actually. And yes, she got the face of my mother. All my folks would agree to it, saying the semblance is just so imminent to ignore.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">For their two younger kids, I’ve seen their photos. Good Lord, they are just so beautiful too; their second child who looks exactly pretty like my daughter-in-law, and their youngest as another carbon copy of my mother. Well in fact, for so many times, I can’t help but laugh with the thought that my bloodline was just so strong upon my broods, hahaha..!</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Back to those two youngsters, in fairness to them, sometimes they’d call me too. I’m not so sure what they know about me. I just heard they’d sometimes ask about my tale. But I’m all glad that they would at times say my <span style="text-decoration: none;">name</span>. Aahhh, I wish I had cuddled them too!</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Scrolling on my Facebook notifications, there I saw a <span style="text-decoration: none;">status</span> posted by my daughter. Reading her post, I must admit, caught me – as always. She said she as well dreamt of me combing her hair. Lord Jesus, am I having tears now? Naahhh..! Cannot be, can never be! ‘Tears’ has already long been an obliterated word from my vocabulary!</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just a thing though. If anyone would ask about me and my daughter? Straight up, I would say; “We owned the world”! She was my little princess, as she still is. But why not? To me, she is the only girl in the world! I can’t say I loved her more over her brothers. But maybe I did – because she is my <i>unica hija</i>. There were more things I had shared with her because what I did with my boys was so common from my own childhood. I had never seen a life-size play house, and so I built her one. I never had a little sister as I am the youngest child, but I just loved dressing her up when she was younger. And there are more great memories I had with her, and I would always smile every time I am reminded of my princess. You must hear her belt out, because she sings so well. She is also a darling. With her being bubbly, giggly and always very positive, everyone would love her easily.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">She also has just one child. Oh, and she was also named after me! I can always imagine their daughter as a baby, a very lovely one. I used to cuddle her up then. She must have grown so big and pretty now. I can see that through her voice each time she calls.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Did I mention that my daughter married my eldest son’s best friend? Well, she did! I had seen him as a good guy then, almost raised up according to my own set of standards. He must have gotten a great set of parents too. A very dedicated father and husband, or so I heard.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">I had always this feeling that both my daughter and her child will be well taken-cared of by him. And as I see their plight now, guess that guy who took my princess away had achieved and provided them even more than what I had expected. Deep in my heart, I can truly say that I am so proud of him. Damn, he did beat me black and blue! What must had he been thinking then anyway? Shame me? If that was the case, then I want to let him know that I am not complaining. And there goes a loud ha-ha-ha for him too, Lol!</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: white; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVm89_hQCU4RZI6IGTm2nasecVK-axcI1aE15O3HRMqdU7vLrvB7metdFNc9XmPVFvcfMsxi5FaFKBAvl1wOwPHTlFinFWMuXfpZxXrIYv5z5xcsMlBzkxI2Qxs2JQQfZO4EpWtNq0OE0c/s1600/IMG_0652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVm89_hQCU4RZI6IGTm2nasecVK-axcI1aE15O3HRMqdU7vLrvB7metdFNc9XmPVFvcfMsxi5FaFKBAvl1wOwPHTlFinFWMuXfpZxXrIYv5z5xcsMlBzkxI2Qxs2JQQfZO4EpWtNq0OE0c/s320/IMG_0652.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just as I am writing this, I got a call from my wife; said both families of our two elder kids had a blastful (is this even a word now?) of a post-Christmas-slash-pre-New-Year holiday altogether. Oh Lord, I miss my wife so terribly; her face, her gestures, her love and affection, her kisses, her tone. Oops, let’s forget about the last part. Just between you and me, she doesn’t have a good musical voice. So please don’t let her sing, okay? Or she can ruin a party, hahaha..! (Don't worry, I will always love you, Mommy. Muah..!)</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hearing all of my wife’s stories makes me feel so homesick. Sometimes I ask myself what am I doing here, and why am I not having fun with them. But well, still I am glad they are fine, so very fine. I must still be a lucky dude for having my wife as my accomplice in my life's missions. She stuck to our game plan, and looking at our kids now, I admit she did well. </span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: white; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEVWfPiEvSTG6Ck-lrU-I2uXI-80oEactENvbgUDXhkP7BQYWiR1plF_sbjrAmflpGz25GchhbeNyi4Eto7xffq_Sti_9KbldgQciaz04L8mNvN-wpm_SPod3E5YIrNlzXtrHULQGx8qg/s1600/IMG_0648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEVWfPiEvSTG6Ck-lrU-I2uXI-80oEactENvbgUDXhkP7BQYWiR1plF_sbjrAmflpGz25GchhbeNyi4Eto7xffq_Sti_9KbldgQciaz04L8mNvN-wpm_SPod3E5YIrNlzXtrHULQGx8qg/s320/IMG_0648.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Going over on other missed postings, there I saw another good news – which could be the best at the moment. My youngest son and his family are visiting our homeland! This guy I must tell you, will always be my priced son. I don’t care what his elder brother and sister will say, but he really is. He made me most proud than ever. His accomplishments are just way so beyond my visions. Too many surprises, gave us too much honors as parents. Nobilities were almost endless. But I tell you, he also had some sort-of dark sides too.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">One afternoon during my days as an elementary grade teacher, it was that time in the afternoon before retreat when the pupils have to do some cleaning within the school surroundings. There I saw two boys – one obviously more sized up than the other – scuffling quite afar where I was standing. I was laughing deep inside because I can see the smaller kid just toying the bigger one, easily throwing punches here and there. Well, just kiddie fights, I said. So I didn't mind so much.<br />
<br />
Until one pupil came running, hushing to me, telling me that my son is involved in that very scuffle. I had to rush up and separate them. He is an honor pupil, why would he even do that! But looking back, whenever alone, I would always grin recalling what I saw. What a sight. My son was the smaller child!</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well, my son married my good friend’s only daughter. We are from the same community, same religious affiliation, so apparently same values too, same cultural references to live by. So both parties are very much well known to each other. Just by that, I could never have qualms at all. From the onset, it was evident they will make a good pair. And certainly a good set of parents too.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">I heard they got two kids now; a boy and a girl. And again, I was appalled to note that their son is also named after me. What are these guys thinking! They don’t want my legacy to die anymore? Makes me wonder, whew!</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">But on the other hand, I’m glad that my wife often pays them a visit down under. If only I could fly with her too so I could also see where they live, and how they are beating life there. I learned they just got a new house. Wish I could make some of their furniture and cabinets myself. Modesty aside, I am an FCM major (Furniture and Cabinet Making), just so you know. I'm sure I still have the reflexes. Must be peanuts!</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">I can’t wait to see my priced son’s family. Surely I’ll steal his kids away and show them my cozy place. Hey, but why not! I live by the beach front. Nice view and superb ambiance. Cold sea breeze all day, lots of fancy cottages for vacationers, and if they get lucky, they can even experience the primitive way of catching marine fishes. Pretty sure they’d love my place. Not to stay, of course. Just for a visit. And oops, not to mention I live just a few blocks away from my in-laws and other relatives. So it won’t be a totally strange location for them to see.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Actually, God knows I’m alright. As a matter of fact, I can honestly say that I am very much alright. All these news that I periodically receive, and all those calls too, there is nothing left for me to whine for. Rather, I can only thank enough that even when we are not living in the same worlds, I am wholly satisfied how they walk their lives. Twenty-eighth of January in 1998, it’s been so close to fourteen years now since I last saw their faces. Of course I miss them a lot too, just the same as maybe how they miss me. In due time, when all their missions in life are fulfilled, I know we shall be altogether again – forever.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Geeze, how time flies. My watch is now suggesting dinner. Well, I hope I can still have a little more Facebooking later to check for more updates, before taking a good bed rest again. Actually, my doctor always advises me not to tire myself too much. It’s just that I can’t help the longing anymore. With all such kind of news, who can? So guess I’ll be dreaming about each and every one of them tonight. Though I think I’d be dreaming of them even sooner than that. I’m sleepy now…</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Good night Jesus, good night Mommy. Good night kids, and good night to my six grandchildren too. Until then, my most beloveds. See you all when I see you.</span></div><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-12377781646512864102011-12-19T11:35:00.006+08:002011-12-21T10:26:46.689+08:00Simply Yohan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZSjxgokFHC2a1kNMl5lriSI253Wf5FFMb_x0ZeUzxQoRGLPCooG3GD3dn5X1i0XSLdhLEBorndbsJjROBsG1eRxYbsWWVRxnJgImiFvpV3soSrafJGUay2SfV5WQHSu4mpEKrwh7gDQV4/s1600/IMAGE_201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZSjxgokFHC2a1kNMl5lriSI253Wf5FFMb_x0ZeUzxQoRGLPCooG3GD3dn5X1i0XSLdhLEBorndbsJjROBsG1eRxYbsWWVRxnJgImiFvpV3soSrafJGUay2SfV5WQHSu4mpEKrwh7gDQV4/s320/IMAGE_201.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">1999. 21<sup>st</sup> of December. Tuesday. Looking at the calendar, it suggests we’re being just a few more days before the turn to a new millennium. Jackie and I geared up for work, drove her to her office, and then proceeded to mine. Nothing unusual. Just one of those another ordinary day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Came 10:00 AM, I received a call. Said she’s back home to pick up the stuffs she particularly prepared for the day we had been anticipating about. She’s feeling it; she was already to give birth anytime. I took off and rushed back home but found no trace of Jackie. Neighbors would tell me they are gone. Pretty sure, it must be taxi I met at the crossroad. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I proceeded to the hospital with my heartbeat pacing like the beat of the car engine. And as soon as I had parked, I sped inside. I was met by her OB, told me it was a swift delivery – 20 minutes, tops! Reading the aura of excitement and eagerness on my face, I was pointed to the nursery. There I saw a thinly wrapped child so delicate, sleeping so calmly with her distinct sunken pair of dimples. Undeniably so beautiful. Very adorable…</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbK4n89p4FX_hYnWXgig8uVrhf8G_fkJhLElwaZEF1-ynZxqkuW5vp7rh06y1b8M6oEUm5HakYEmM293piykRdudCLifQNuOdpXZ-XTJ5p78N3FRENj6HAzWFR3V0zuIuBPAwUvz2Rj8ur/s1600/YOHAN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbK4n89p4FX_hYnWXgig8uVrhf8G_fkJhLElwaZEF1-ynZxqkuW5vp7rh06y1b8M6oEUm5HakYEmM293piykRdudCLifQNuOdpXZ-XTJ5p78N3FRENj6HAzWFR3V0zuIuBPAwUvz2Rj8ur/s320/YOHAN.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Looking at her pink face, I guess I shed tears of joy. For 4-years and 10-months, the waiting is finally over. I closed my eyes and thanked God, in the highest spirits. Another blessing to thank for. Another reason to be motivated. Another inspiration to a happy family life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I went to my wife in the recovery room, still sedated but half conscious. We held hands and kissed. It was a very ecstatic moment. I told her how beautiful our new baby is. She just dizzily smiled back, and slept. In 2-days we would return home. Everyone would be very happy to see her. And after 3-months, we christened our daughter “Joanna Carolina”, with her second name after my mother. And we fondly call her “Yohan”.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW0CoJHUt4NqMXO235afqzauXBp7X1MywQcr5Cl3___63-J8xXxhEvRo7cD2vsIXukdQUOO90N9k45zyyaMeMdX4xrleJ-5pzPhv5L7mwm4vAQ1mVjlbLiOk0AvYLAlvLVxWHCykCTFY4K/s1600/Yohan-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW0CoJHUt4NqMXO235afqzauXBp7X1MywQcr5Cl3___63-J8xXxhEvRo7cD2vsIXukdQUOO90N9k45zyyaMeMdX4xrleJ-5pzPhv5L7mwm4vAQ1mVjlbLiOk0AvYLAlvLVxWHCykCTFY4K/s320/Yohan-01.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">To date, just a few days more and she will turn 12. The years rolled so quickly that we almost did not notice her grow so fast. Well, at least to me – because if there’s a list she keeps where I would certainly topnotch, it must be the number of times I am away during her birthdays.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Among our three daughters – which is all we have, Yohan is our middle child. She holds the most difficult spot among our siblings. She has a 4-year 10-month gap with both of her sisters. When she converses to her elder sister (Carla Janina), she must elevate her mind half a decade over her age to cope up with Janina’s mind frame. And when she talks to her little sister (Carla Juliana, or Jia), she must reduce herself to another almost 5-years to alleviate their stance.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQO-1kpvp0ItZIALFLguY9OrFmVtpXLmo7cESpZGBpTomkYTzPm-tYFeUPKwM1zzD9b85bQCY6Tvc_n08JoSaHgAExQQ7-ZRHukjS95qfrEvtyFI20rbGychjNqwn7yqc_ir7EMgqVg8uB/s1600/IMAGE_153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQO-1kpvp0ItZIALFLguY9OrFmVtpXLmo7cESpZGBpTomkYTzPm-tYFeUPKwM1zzD9b85bQCY6Tvc_n08JoSaHgAExQQ7-ZRHukjS95qfrEvtyFI20rbGychjNqwn7yqc_ir7EMgqVg8uB/s320/IMAGE_153.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Not provided of any choice, either she plays a forced adult, or a temporary toddler. For her to be comprehensive, she must be able to lithely swing within that almost 10-year span between her sisters. I really have no idea how she does it. Either it is a skill, or something she is bound to be outstanding at. It is tough, but she knows it is the only way that she can aptly communicate with her sisters.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">That’s why sometimes she’d rather choose to be alone and be vividly quiet. She would lock herself up, or would choose to be distant from our sights. I must know, at times she’d just want to be herself; of her age, of her own mind structure, and just be naturally by her own habitat. Because the moment she strikes a conversation, she’d end up playing in character again.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">This must be the reason that she is never a Papa’s girl, neither a Mama’s girl too. There are indirect strives between us. We, her parents, would always want to comprehend. That’s what parents are expected to do anyway. But sometimes, the intangibles are just too vague to understand. Just so profound and delicate and fragile, but must never be ignored.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh02d16WJi7kvqp6fvsVW1E3aLq_N0_dly7Rhgl2l3cyfWsKlHTeXstTjBZbNKtPRZt0tbI_Ki13qiISeFEvsNCcWzCMPFMgQ_DCQIGcJDyeiGpZcZ2HSBHxg0ThreCphvZqV8yEpOaojdi/s1600/IMG_0166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh02d16WJi7kvqp6fvsVW1E3aLq_N0_dly7Rhgl2l3cyfWsKlHTeXstTjBZbNKtPRZt0tbI_Ki13qiISeFEvsNCcWzCMPFMgQ_DCQIGcJDyeiGpZcZ2HSBHxg0ThreCphvZqV8yEpOaojdi/s320/IMG_0166.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">She would never reiterate asking favors. Once shot down, she’d just weep by herself. That’s when I and Jackie have to be mind readers. We have to really dig her to speak her mind. Not that she is unspoken, not that she is shy. She just doesn’t appreciate repeated conversations.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Yohan is not as bubbly as Jia, nor as eye-catcher as Janina. She can be as funny as hell, and can be noticeably jolly. But her personality would usually situate her to take the backseat. She normally spares highlight moments. She has a big heart for that. She doesn’t care much about accolades. She can just be a calm and quiet supporter.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">As parents, particularly to me, it pains my heart that our Yohan is just unique as compared to her sisters. She may yet to speak her heart out, and just be vividly open. But in delight, she is still young. And since she just recently turned ‘from a child to a lady’, now she has all the time to mature, and see what her world has to offer. Maybe it is just one of those stages where a middle child must undergo. Surely things will be processed as she grows. And we will never stop to show she is no different among her sisters in terms of our love, support, guidance and compassion.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ghEwXU6iVupZ__rHvAc7DEG4f1zMJ5idglB3euUkp4zfM5gys-InLQoKyIEMtcb1GNzJef41RQex5Z2OmDHqLbgYK2FKj-miZHogUFdszx8ZorJQfwVTEJ7vVsLnbYC72wdIB7h7dYCM/s1600/DSC02761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ghEwXU6iVupZ__rHvAc7DEG4f1zMJ5idglB3euUkp4zfM5gys-InLQoKyIEMtcb1GNzJef41RQex5Z2OmDHqLbgYK2FKj-miZHogUFdszx8ZorJQfwVTEJ7vVsLnbYC72wdIB7h7dYCM/s320/DSC02761.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">But make no mistake, there are things she does best that are so distinct of and very particular about her. When down, she would exactly know how to cheer us up, and catch us before we even hit the ground. She is a very loving person. She is always around when love is quiet. How she cuddles me is just superb. How she holds her Mom speaks a lot. She would strategically exist at the midst of every silence. She would always fill the missing link.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">And she is also full of surprises. She sends me e-mails about any good thing she is sure would paint a smile on my face. She is also a good artist that each time I go overseas, and as soon as I arrive elsewhere, and as I unpack my things, I would find her self-made cards. And yes, her messages are so simple yet so deep that you would not expect it came from the heart of a growing young lady. She chooses her words so profoundly. She is a very caring child.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXGlM2iw-NFmAJC88-9pLs5h1nzPvdcfaDc6BAK4AY7ZhLXjNxByr5GyDXhNcxlgsCBZaoWxW2o8ncQo31Hxgo1eFLVkyS8NiIu5A9o_g2o60ecqfJh_wuOZKdqvqCYGl21hZi30RkZ361/s1600/DSC09081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXGlM2iw-NFmAJC88-9pLs5h1nzPvdcfaDc6BAK4AY7ZhLXjNxByr5GyDXhNcxlgsCBZaoWxW2o8ncQo31Hxgo1eFLVkyS8NiIu5A9o_g2o60ecqfJh_wuOZKdqvqCYGl21hZi30RkZ361/s320/DSC09081.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">To imagine her pretty face is always easy – as if her dimples and wide eyes are just affront smiling. God thanks heavens, I could never picture not having her as our child. Her dreams largely speak how much love is in her heart as it would always include her siblings and not just for her own self – it’s always “we”, too seldom for “I”.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0pUEsKVO51tK0PLGcoi0yWI1ekr9QwaoDhumO0UveRcz8SI88vlrenbs2b8H5n9fSmMy1ZNwfezOiFfOUmFtOkRfOJtj9stpwZ7PvDPPBNwE14R2qqm4cR6sKKzx1RLaVKHzDTmOq4a0J/s1600/DSC01899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0pUEsKVO51tK0PLGcoi0yWI1ekr9QwaoDhumO0UveRcz8SI88vlrenbs2b8H5n9fSmMy1ZNwfezOiFfOUmFtOkRfOJtj9stpwZ7PvDPPBNwE14R2qqm4cR6sKKzx1RLaVKHzDTmOq4a0J/s320/DSC01899.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Yohan my child, we may not swear too much promises to you. But you know within that you are much loved, equally same as your siblings. But it is your special day, and actually your last birthday before turning into another dazzling teenager. There’s just one thing I can assure you though. However things go, whatever happens in the future, always remember; me and you, and Mama too - we will always be a team. We will focus on track of your big dreams. And with your overwhelming insights, there is no way we shall ever go backwards. That will never be an option. Because life will be easy - as you will be there to carry our spirits up high.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohRkWgI65P9QXY5bVmKzTPk0QND4Tfc0c2xmExCxWh6GAxGads_5oZhvw1TLBeZbbBxypAWVf4mTP3h6VA-q4mSGfnRn8grttRxZFk2OqjgHhcN6imnK2_jZcJcTt1HTevISC1_1awmBk/s1600/Yohan-02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohRkWgI65P9QXY5bVmKzTPk0QND4Tfc0c2xmExCxWh6GAxGads_5oZhvw1TLBeZbbBxypAWVf4mTP3h6VA-q4mSGfnRn8grttRxZFk2OqjgHhcN6imnK2_jZcJcTt1HTevISC1_1awmBk/s320/Yohan-02.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Again… we love you, our dearest Yohan. I would never wish you to be good on anything – because I know you shall always strive to get better.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Happy 12th birthday, Yohan, and you are much loved..! God, I can’t wait to wrap my arms around your tiny frame now.</span><br />
<div><br />
</div></div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-36089912903526304222011-11-22T16:04:00.022+08:002011-12-21T12:10:08.496+08:00Sixty-eight and gone, but was never lost<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #cccccc; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJfTLWINFsvzd7Tb5M_CCzKEY5aM-XGwW0AZ6C1IV0cbAn7ZMZfovnbd-NcpW4PR9kfogB26n3PdLyb1zdHU3EjGUtKvGmIMEENTT7dib6FYMRIL1Nd6xVG3I0wZiFDFsyzUC55XmB5XKz/s1600/DADDY%2526JANINA.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJfTLWINFsvzd7Tb5M_CCzKEY5aM-XGwW0AZ6C1IV0cbAn7ZMZfovnbd-NcpW4PR9kfogB26n3PdLyb1zdHU3EjGUtKvGmIMEENTT7dib6FYMRIL1Nd6xVG3I0wZiFDFsyzUC55XmB5XKz/s320/DADDY%2526JANINA.JPG" width="247" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="text-align: center;"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><div align="center" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I must have seen it all, just by being the eldest</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">We started from nothing, which to others may even be less</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You teach and live in Aparri, Mommy goes to NCC</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">And periodically, Philippine Rabbit would juggle me.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">I was four, and Lore Lyn came by to us hushing</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">I didn’t like the name, you let me choose 'Caren'</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Had our first picture together on Mom’s graduation</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Soon she’ll be out there to mentor other children.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Another four years passed, a brother to us you’d give</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Lore <i>Junn</i> had an ‘e’ just when to Saudi you’d leave</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">After a year you’d come home, he picks you from MIA</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">He grew so fast, you asked “Who’s child is this, Mama?”</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Back to the dessert to provide us more from less</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Built us a house to alleviate us with the others</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Unfortunate events had pinched your heart and rethink</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You can’t stand the camels, you seriously think they stink.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You came home, back to teaching, no more leaving us again</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Wisdom you’d infuse upon us and altogether we’d dream</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">All three kids in school, just the duo of you couple at home</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">For eleven years, that’s the life you had with Mom.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">But when your youngest pride was about to graduate</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You said you are done; no more challenge left to take</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Health was not your friend, it thumped you up quite fast</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You hastily left us just when our lives were about to start.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">By then I had family, same as your “only girl in the world”</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Janina you’d love to carry, and Micah so delicate to hold</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Those short memories with you are still fresh in their minds</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You conquered their hearts - they still cry for you, Dad.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Your teachings, your antics, your laughter, just everything</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You packaged us expansively, life’s tests can get a beating</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">An ace you left us, Mom is always on our sides each time</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">She steers us back to track, altering tough life sublime.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">That even if all of your kids are thousand miles apart</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Each thing you taught us always brings us a bright spark</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">A hint how to get around about life, whip it and succeed</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Not necessarily richly, just enough to quench our needs.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Humble kind of life, that’s the very lesson you instilled in us</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">After all, seems we never got away from your strict standards</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">We are still the same guys that you well loved and raised, Dad</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">No way you can’t recognize us when we meet again for last.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Just too bad, we don’t miss you that much anymore, Dad</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You made our lives complete, all we see is your watermark</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You are reminded whenever we are filled with blessings</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You baked us so well, how can we not say but good things.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Tell us Dad, how could we miss you at all, anyway</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Our thoughts and hearts you would occupy always</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">It’s been so long and we still celebrate your birthday</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Do you receive all our greetings and messages, by the way?</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Must have been your sixty-eighth this fifth of December</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">The thirteenth time you’ll miss your party as I remember</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Naturally there’ll be cakes and prayers and singing again</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">And yes Dad you’ll reign, surely we’ll be chanting your name.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">There shall be more poetry, adoring your memories</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You may have to wait and see our cheerful kids hymns</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">From the traits you bequeathed us, for sure they won’t miss</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Because of you we become the creation of your dreams.</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Happy birthday Dad, from Mommy who’d still call your name</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">From us your kids and all of your six bubbly grandchildren</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">You crafted a big one here, you must be smiling up there now</span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;">Your legacy shall remain, it’s still unblemished, somehow.</span><br />
<br />
</div></div></div></div></div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-65831016203041270302011-09-29T10:12:00.002+08:002011-09-29T10:33:01.760+08:00Waltzing Carla Juliana... @ 7<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our Beloved Jia,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">There are just so many things I want to tell you today, and being lost of words may not be enough for an excuse that I can only say a few. So I guess I shall only pick the most essential thoughts that come to mind so easily:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">You taught us the element of surprise; you came into this world three months before your due - being preterm (premature). You caught us quite a bit, but we nevertheless cheered.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">You taught us the spirit of struggle; that even with your tiny frame holed with various tubings, you kept your composure and rayed us with hope by your imaginary sunken smiles, as if telling us to keep our cool. The fight was never easy, but the battle has to be won.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-4p0wWqUgLiz-_0bjMPnWqkVRe1DIqrszF_1uDK_VORaVKAMUvm280FY6VbK3SSg2qSVCjS6KbNfxlNW4pzq46AQPUjS5JWT84D6H0IfiBhnrmypQiWqcmth0TNHKvJ-LcnjlovevvNg/s1600-h/DSC01351.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-4p0wWqUgLiz-_0bjMPnWqkVRe1DIqrszF_1uDK_VORaVKAMUvm280FY6VbK3SSg2qSVCjS6KbNfxlNW4pzq46AQPUjS5JWT84D6H0IfiBhnrmypQiWqcmth0TNHKvJ-LcnjlovevvNg/s320/DSC01351.JPG" /></a></div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-size: small;"> You taught us the significance of the air we breathe; without ventilators available, even as my tears would drop on your thinly skin, I manually pumped your lungs as they were dysfunctional when you arrived. And you held your ground. And we as a team did it.</span></div><div style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">You taught us how to beat time; I had to hammer the highways in the first eight hours since your birth to look for your surfactant to give you a fighting chance. Divine direction pulled me where it was. And you chanted; "Bring it on, Pa’. I have this!"</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixO0Z-3Ou6Id6-fJCmzvCChA2PjAXtKuOgScfJlicAcFIWod1nAIY3lhFoq4ybWZ4esCXNmbge57lfE-yUiJBKpyWZyLER-MJ9CiX3jy-NDkhIyBAQI5dTSPo8-oXXBBSms9mAD6iXlzkz/s1600/DSC01462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixO0Z-3Ou6Id6-fJCmzvCChA2PjAXtKuOgScfJlicAcFIWod1nAIY3lhFoq4ybWZ4esCXNmbge57lfE-yUiJBKpyWZyLER-MJ9CiX3jy-NDkhIyBAQI5dTSPo8-oXXBBSms9mAD6iXlzkz/s320/DSC01462.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">Taking everything more lightly now, those antics of yours brought out the best among us. And now you have become a great joy to everyone as you’ve turn out to be just another important reason to survive life’s challenges</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbeZJ_tbmwTPHEl40E-DdEfu6kGHxQydfIQwUcH7zEUqIfigF6rpL8EFd3QXAUsbhe2mliHR7kqRIik5-r7honyNhtlzXuJo9xn1Rr_9SAUj17_z-6Uqfgs6MKVeoN_eRGQMEkXjDrAwMa/s1600/DSC00023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbeZJ_tbmwTPHEl40E-DdEfu6kGHxQydfIQwUcH7zEUqIfigF6rpL8EFd3QXAUsbhe2mliHR7kqRIik5-r7honyNhtlzXuJo9xn1Rr_9SAUj17_z-6Uqfgs6MKVeoN_eRGQMEkXjDrAwMa/s320/DSC00023.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">You would not understand all these now, my little child. But one day you’ll find your way to read this, and fathom how you affected our hearts. There is no any better manifestation of what you have brought us more than the will to live life accurately – notwithstanding the tests of time. The aura that you paint in your cheeks never fails to amuse us</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbrG9d11KmOa5Q2zaognb1Aco4KBNqP9Xy7jokmyDWciEg3BBfJ7PMcgmjY3HL2wHIQQjeUsRBxFqpVzABlv8J4sTTQ-GfK84Eddx1ay9wwm5VCTTsueOPv653sgNtKfZLp0Bp914Qmg_/s1600-h/DSC02616.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbrG9d11KmOa5Q2zaognb1Aco4KBNqP9Xy7jokmyDWciEg3BBfJ7PMcgmjY3HL2wHIQQjeUsRBxFqpVzABlv8J4sTTQ-GfK84Eddx1ay9wwm5VCTTsueOPv653sgNtKfZLp0Bp914Qmg_/s320/DSC02616.JPG" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">You graduated from Kindergarten, and Papa was away and wasn’t by your side as you marched with your petite white gown. Mixed feelings that day, so I just filled my thoughts of you; as I imagined my arms were wrapped all over you, while my lips are pressed all over your pretty, lovely, tiny little face</span><span style="font-size: small;"> - always full of smile and inspiration.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfMTt7_Mc3Zk4wEumF90Pp_1Ob7KHa3NWGdnYRUOiOjYA0NUGz4QHDkq3FyjvG5Zjd2o61fJOveu63-ybDnxpNht92sdiexc8TLZf-qcOQuqseNjhHueFhrovsRgFU3QVooJvTvsNokFcS/s1600-h/DSC04458.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfMTt7_Mc3Zk4wEumF90Pp_1Ob7KHa3NWGdnYRUOiOjYA0NUGz4QHDkq3FyjvG5Zjd2o61fJOveu63-ybDnxpNht92sdiexc8TLZf-qcOQuqseNjhHueFhrovsRgFU3QVooJvTvsNokFcS/s320/DSC04458.JPG" /></a></span></div><div style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">And now you have just turned seven. All your baby teeth aren’t gone yet, but the kiss you plant on our cheeks and lips would always bring us to cloud nine. You are simply a manifestation of pure magic because you wipe away our discomforts so swiftly, and instantly switch our moods to be passionate about striving for a better life – always. Exhaustion and tiresomeness can be shoved quickly, and your music would toggle us to happy mode easily – no sweat, hands down, so big time!</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_JwFrrO9OalbHjDQnhwvfD2fAk6EpVqkQp5dMGp9Hq7v9g_5DQxp1V4_-jSJQMc4x-nysU3d1vx-dgb7bU0ST-gsuMU4KvR6G_NmFWozdCGDga0MBDQnoOz2PgxzQ4QtPTvEYpec3h2p/s1600/Cover-01.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_JwFrrO9OalbHjDQnhwvfD2fAk6EpVqkQp5dMGp9Hq7v9g_5DQxp1V4_-jSJQMc4x-nysU3d1vx-dgb7bU0ST-gsuMU4KvR6G_NmFWozdCGDga0MBDQnoOz2PgxzQ4QtPTvEYpec3h2p/s320/Cover-01.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Well, it’s still a long shot before you can overcome the shadows of your hardly fought struggle, but I promise you that with us all being tight and always driven, there shall never be another way but for all of us to get better everyday. Our team will be strong, and consequential difference will be inevitable - simply because you are a part of it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dCq9j1a7kP4K3qCuUEMauefNYeZuimJAB-ywqCLldYYIvMqJvUNRUcIcrlp2r8h3jw55wid-GuVTafqYWYPzMXfEhfR-fKsG2nYEnUi9s-60y7pBZY0iybNkb3cRqbv6Bqb1pgd8rnJp/s1600/IMG_0248.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dCq9j1a7kP4K3qCuUEMauefNYeZuimJAB-ywqCLldYYIvMqJvUNRUcIcrlp2r8h3jw55wid-GuVTafqYWYPzMXfEhfR-fKsG2nYEnUi9s-60y7pBZY0iybNkb3cRqbv6Bqb1pgd8rnJp/s320/IMG_0248.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Be it as it may, in behalf of your elder sisters, our salutation with Mama to your every achievement comes with our tightest hugs. This must be just one great start of your humble beginnings. I know there is yet more to come.</span><br />
<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbwy1HUS3WKFmu1PzYZFe96aospGPvAVmKsjPvcRTHKv5reqieFVy11msj0gzKQ_qKVqeX2GeNHsBJYZDcKDYC-n6vGv3v0JW4G6TgbdY5tcz6R_sQfNXVrxrLi13y2B_Qal8XfhzUR0Oq/s1600/IMAGE_012.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbwy1HUS3WKFmu1PzYZFe96aospGPvAVmKsjPvcRTHKv5reqieFVy11msj0gzKQ_qKVqeX2GeNHsBJYZDcKDYC-n6vGv3v0JW4G6TgbdY5tcz6R_sQfNXVrxrLi13y2B_Qal8XfhzUR0Oq/s320/IMAGE_012.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">We love you, our beloved Kalempoink. Walk on, go ahead, explore the world, and soar up high. Do not ever worry of your tiny wings. Before those get tired of flapping, our love and support will lift you up again – always, and forever. That’s not a promise you can count on, but rather our pledge of love and support you have to expect.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTWiuwVkuAN0zupxQDqFuaZnHvTbgADR_3OlMy8kjoGe9TdGJZkG-7S2xBb1GpUFaXd2hzTJV_ZkXznG5auHZMczpQ081O132ah7ocr8IIobEoPDMv1vKxrhqVzk8PPrITB9z98S-dN39/s1600/11839102550.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTWiuwVkuAN0zupxQDqFuaZnHvTbgADR_3OlMy8kjoGe9TdGJZkG-7S2xBb1GpUFaXd2hzTJV_ZkXznG5auHZMczpQ081O132ah7ocr8IIobEoPDMv1vKxrhqVzk8PPrITB9z98S-dN39/s320/11839102550.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">All of our kisses… All of our love…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our world is yours…</span></div></div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-42539225510020222142011-04-26T12:36:00.005+08:002011-04-26T14:34:22.019+08:00All Alone Again...<div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7i4lvp1V7hyr3uoXLjwhYLaES8XteHXcaNUEdLD6WXVZ7aMTQ9hHOMOBPITAdPfHx44KcLtArjLjHqLDz9bG6DfjFm1A8BQU1gYKC6Aw4uHZA2d0tzTSHOsBrINp_slmhF-xgzzdwjz1T/s1600/Photo0182a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7i4lvp1V7hyr3uoXLjwhYLaES8XteHXcaNUEdLD6WXVZ7aMTQ9hHOMOBPITAdPfHx44KcLtArjLjHqLDz9bG6DfjFm1A8BQU1gYKC6Aw4uHZA2d0tzTSHOsBrINp_slmhF-xgzzdwjz1T/s320/Photo0182a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;">It’s been a while since I last blogged. I thought I would not even open this site anymore. But being a thousand miles away from home on my natal day, lonesomeness brought me here. And so here I am again after a lull of ten long months.</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;">I’ve already been in this hole for a number of times. How many of my birthdays had been ‘celebrated’ away from my loved ones? Must have been a dozen times I suppose, or maybe just a little less. So there should be nothing unusual today aside from my statistical bump in that department. Yet I guess it would still have been better if I’m home. Pretty sure that my kids would hug and kiss me as if like not a must during birthdays. And that my wife would wish and maybe suggest me great things right through my ear. And yes, my dogs too…</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;">But in retrospect, why do people celebrate birthdays? What is the feat that is won in every single birthday? Is it because we have lived another year again? But some would even end theirs! Wait. Or is it because it is how it is done in movies? Well, that can be a valid reason. And add up that there is a global feast every yuletide too, though that’s a far way different aspect. So it is now certain that birthdays are just celebrated ‘procedurally’, and not objectively.</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;">Given that even if I want to, I can’t celebrate by myself due to the fact that I don’t even know where to treat myself. And so today I am compelled to be but alone hitting my keyboard, literally communicating with myself, and at the same time thinking something that goes; “What do I have to thank for, aside from being a year wiser once again”. And so I began to count my blessings.</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5P8j3LpIDV1ZTPRIehFv2HGKb2T6PF_EG32PCLXtjPe_TByAsjas48NEVZwEjTV7NsLzODmPvyXO5kE3nwig8CdTdP-1fzFmLQ1dIm4iA9x_j0_W1NvD0qptohZE9sK3PHzaAYDdlc60j/s1600/Jackie+and+Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5P8j3LpIDV1ZTPRIehFv2HGKb2T6PF_EG32PCLXtjPe_TByAsjas48NEVZwEjTV7NsLzODmPvyXO5kE3nwig8CdTdP-1fzFmLQ1dIm4iA9x_j0_W1NvD0qptohZE9sK3PHzaAYDdlc60j/s320/Jackie+and+Me.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;">I have a great family; a wife that is very kind, supportive and beautiful too, and three wonderful daughters that I can’t imagine what life could be without the inspiration they bring me. And just by that alone, I don’t think I would need any better motivation not to think of having more birthdays in this life. Their smiles, and laughter, and everything I see in them, just pushes me to want to live longer.</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFj5rWtiQZPb9C7io_poX3HewZEhH_g9AzA-C_lgv6GyWRe3fX1JZFlXp6uSrni0_FK8WQ8K6aP5CSmwpv-t6L2y4GnSPjEqeKrf7uC9pcnTnPjLm8-sZ2Msh1aRjiorR-CjXaZEsPQruY/s1600/DSC08627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFj5rWtiQZPb9C7io_poX3HewZEhH_g9AzA-C_lgv6GyWRe3fX1JZFlXp6uSrni0_FK8WQ8K6aP5CSmwpv-t6L2y4GnSPjEqeKrf7uC9pcnTnPjLm8-sZ2Msh1aRjiorR-CjXaZEsPQruY/s320/DSC08627.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;">And my Mom who is still very healthy and strong, who would never cease to pat me by my shoulder saying I’m doing a good job. That even when I’m on a remiss, she would always tell me to just move forward and be enthused at all times. She’s my up-keeper, my untiring counselor, and my motivator. And she’s having her birthday tomorrow too.</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;">Same goes to my sister and brother and their families too, for not missing to cheer for me. Just by the thought that they are there watching over my family’s welfare either from a distance, in silence or in person, I know that I am so blessed already.</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;">And yes, my dogs too. </div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #f3f3f3; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgGNwugxGCo-MaZopqjDClh08eMKJ6IpxuU8WV8558emnMdOkbwcuwAjgzd4BsYLa0hMH0XencJwLYAwU7zfyi2R2_mHomS7Oflj6aGRn8K_cq3CAGRVChgisPswTvHriTAhuJCFs2mwAZ/s1600/Photo0145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgGNwugxGCo-MaZopqjDClh08eMKJ6IpxuU8WV8558emnMdOkbwcuwAjgzd4BsYLa0hMH0XencJwLYAwU7zfyi2R2_mHomS7Oflj6aGRn8K_cq3CAGRVChgisPswTvHriTAhuJCFs2mwAZ/s320/Photo0145.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;">Life is sweet. Life is beautiful. Be it a birthday or just another ordinary day, I’d rather choose to be diplomatically productive by performing my job as a son, a brother, a husband, and a father - rather than to celebrate in naught.</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;">And also as a believer. At foremost I can only thank God for endowing me this opportunity to pass by this world with all these blessings surrounding me.</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;">Or am I just saying all these because I'm alone?</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"></div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
"Happy birthday, Carlo."</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"></div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-71175990483272566022010-06-09T12:02:00.003+08:002010-06-09T12:04:01.303+08:00Dear Facebook<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaoNtGuFvAv6BrVS1OJGxKfMN0LEowGtRUn0067yyWdKyZqCrw96mvrDre8OERKuyKTsgWVDe5lqsHksE9rkWEj_0BtX2wtKOKb0tSpQAeLWUUTwGMfX-V0sa68vhQ92pUSZ25LAIEfl7/s1600/Facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaoNtGuFvAv6BrVS1OJGxKfMN0LEowGtRUn0067yyWdKyZqCrw96mvrDre8OERKuyKTsgWVDe5lqsHksE9rkWEj_0BtX2wtKOKb0tSpQAeLWUUTwGMfX-V0sa68vhQ92pUSZ25LAIEfl7/s320/Facebook.jpg" /></a></div><meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" http-equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It has been noted that you have infiltrated a lot of private lives. No amount of intoxication – neither by liquor nor by prohibited drugs - could even match your capability by ease to let people voluntarily or by others, expose their long kept secrets and love stories and childhood memoirs and high school crushes and first kiss and college boyfriends and girlfriends and embarrassments and weaknesses and other forgettable moments and fun memories of their lives - I included. Your feat has been an upheaval beyond manuscripts, and worse is to see that no one is even willing to be rehabilitated from their addiction of you.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is in direct manifest that I will face you toe-to-toe. I will not blink, and I will not back off. As you keep following me - that even in my dreams you'd not let me off, so that in retaliation, I will be very vigilant of you too. I will watch your every move, and I will never let you loose. I will hold grip on your every trail, as I try to surpass all your stuffs so you won't be any prouder anymore.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">To expose your motives, you have made mimes speak their hearts. You have let people express their opinions and interpret their minds to fit with the flow, or can we just agree and label it as the hype? Yes, you always tend to update fashion every six hours and now people are going gaga on almost everything. I can't call that an upgrade because of your very untimely and ever changing mood, err… mandate! At times you'd even keep people sleepless but tireless, or even preferring virtual over reality in most cases. You've ferried the loudest laughters in zero decibel. What a lame...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You may not have thought at all, but you've crept into a lot of business entities as not many people even send snail mails anymore. Not many people send text messages now because interactivity has been more prompt through you. Not so many voice calls are even necessary anymore as our mobile phones had also been interfaced by you. There are no more photo albums in our living rooms since you became the keeper of our mementos. Tell me; just how heartless and unkind do you even plan to be?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">An eye for an eye, I will then collect as many photos as I can and post and share to every human beings around the globe and eat up all your bandwidth until you crawl. I will share a lot of stories for others to comment on, and make you feel so twisted and dazzled on how to catch up or even jump in since some inputs would be traced back even before you even existed. I will proceed with a solid battle plan to invite more friends without any thought of subduing your inhabitants. That the only control I will mend you is to let those undesirable invites just hanging and not out-rightly ignoring them so they'd continue to proliferate some of your strength.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Generally, you just held me clueless of my objective now, and I am not even sure what to jot next. Being perceived as humanitarian - though I'm not sure if you are, I only ask you one single favor.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Got a pill..?</span></div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-73266779751094021122010-06-04T14:33:00.004+08:002010-06-04T14:41:19.541+08:00Sweet Sixteen<div style="color: black;"><meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" http-equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><o:smarttagtype name="PlaceType" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype name="PlaceName" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype name="place" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"></o:smarttagtype><style>
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</style> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"></span><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi4X-bvtdPP-rMKdft2NunQJx8hfExVrlntLuP2DqmG6TkvGTN6IP3S16TWFGh8UCJD4dkGiHMQKSisAlN63mWcbDT7ys4_ImnOJ9acZfKILcbS1CbYwJTWWxx36Eo-_bDRYxuOcVE-UIk/s320/Couples.JPG" /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">03 June 1994, I told you; “I can’t stand this anymore. We must have been through this thing separately many times. Either we agree to the next level or call it quits”. And you replied, “What about this coming Wednesday?” And that was it! On that 8<sup>th</sup> of June, we went to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Manila</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">City Hall</st1:placetype></st1:place> by ourselves - with just about a thousand pesos above poverty line. Single-hood was rescinded, and we went home as couples.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Sixteen years later, here we are. The sail was rough, but the adventure was all worth it. Now blessed with three amazing daughters, that even along the tests of times, if my love for you is a disease, with its magnitude and enormity, I would say that it must have long been diagnosed as benign. My heart only beats for you, and I am sure it shall go on forever. Not because you always love me back, but because I knew that I was cursed to love you.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqpR9-4div3xScfenXUqT7B7InUm7jAd0DaRs5sHwF7e98DXE5iFzYR96gtHTmYuO4yixQBz7-koioZ1b2hMYtV5zzfUBs-FkemCzy0jE4xhcD9lBxXtYXjFS1-WIK5e8N3WXCYv3pfrv/s1600/Jackie.and.Me.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqpR9-4div3xScfenXUqT7B7InUm7jAd0DaRs5sHwF7e98DXE5iFzYR96gtHTmYuO4yixQBz7-koioZ1b2hMYtV5zzfUBs-FkemCzy0jE4xhcD9lBxXtYXjFS1-WIK5e8N3WXCYv3pfrv/s320/Jackie.and.Me.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I can not yet say that you complete me, because we still have a long way to go. We are not yet done. As a matter of fact, we must have just come out from honeymoon stage when it concerns our partnership in building our family. As we see our children grow, we are just like paddling off the estuary through the ocean of greater life where the stakes are higher. There is yet a bigger battle to come, and it will be a lot harder, or even bloodier - so to speak. But having you by my side shall make all those challenges far manageable. And I hope you feel the same way my most beloved one, or I may not survive.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">For the last sixteen years, we leapt through a lot of stages. And I’m inclined to believe that the scars of our debacles are now dazzling like golden tattoos in our hearts. It’s still a far cry, but then again, we’ve survived another year honey. Thank you for coming into my life… into our lives… and hope you’d hang on for more. Not because you are stuck, but because it is where you belong. You and me to be together until we breathe our last, and our children too.</span></div><div style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7CUmR2dMQ-Rcp-eBIyXsrF35UW2ZkTe6GdBZQqzqLKtLNhCZiOAAgLyXvxc25k55ce3all2h1ykLnyok-R146-wmilZLJ3Yf2K4eC8r70Jpek2wLX86WnhGfSD0AKTKOx4QU9F5A-MHZt/s1600/Me.And.Jackie.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7CUmR2dMQ-Rcp-eBIyXsrF35UW2ZkTe6GdBZQqzqLKtLNhCZiOAAgLyXvxc25k55ce3all2h1ykLnyok-R146-wmilZLJ3Yf2K4eC8r70Jpek2wLX86WnhGfSD0AKTKOx4QU9F5A-MHZt/s320/Me.And.Jackie.JPG" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">And to our three wonderful gems, we assure you that we will never cease dreaming for you. We are not yet very proud of what we have done to our family because Papa and Mama will always cling on the vision of a better us, or you in particular. I cry for the moment that you will significantly appreciate what I and Mama will bring onto you, with the hope that your future will be a notch better than we can imagine. So please cling on too, our dearest kids. Continue to shower us of better reasons to smile. Always be the source of our strength, and the wind beneath our wings as we soar higher and higher each day. Inspire us to be on focus, as we promise to dedicate our lives only to you.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">And to you Mama, as I pledge my loyalty to our vows, that even without you saying it - I shall always embrace to your assurance that we are in this together. I love you, honey… and I’ll always will.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Happy Anniversary..!<o:p></o:p></span></div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-82946708682845902242010-04-23T14:40:00.004+08:002010-04-27T22:54:21.599+08:00Taki Taki<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYrEV2k9f-T6IdKt72Pc-w4okJ1afWMfz4YPCCq3IaFmiosVmTgfpVdIihed6Z3_Ugo9xTda0qx_0FTMmvn8b5n7figXCULUK0kVccogxmc2iG-VyiLWJDUCIWPc0hgf_xUXOQpHbyyPz/s1600/Taki.taki-01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYrEV2k9f-T6IdKt72Pc-w4okJ1afWMfz4YPCCq3IaFmiosVmTgfpVdIihed6Z3_Ugo9xTda0qx_0FTMmvn8b5n7figXCULUK0kVccogxmc2iG-VyiLWJDUCIWPc0hgf_xUXOQpHbyyPz/s320/Taki.taki-01.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I’ll be celebrating my 42nd birthday this coming 26th of April, and my mom’s 66th the next day, together with my Uncle Sam’s 63rd. I have had lots of write ups about me and my mom so many times already, so I won’t go to that for now. This then goes to my beloved uncle.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Samuel Ubas Aguda. My mom’s brother. A teacher by profession, and an extended father to all his nephews and nieces by his own choice. He is gay, penniless (I’ll explain this later), and I’m proud to say publicly that he is my uncle.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">My mom is the fourth child of their brood, and Uncle Sam is the fifth. They have a 3-year gap, but they share the same birth date. A twin with a 3-year gap, well, we can put it that way. And that may be the reason that they get along so well.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Everyone’s life; relatives and extended families included, he would touch. He is funny, bubbly, and always a party clown. He never misses to give presents on/for any occasion, how humble it may be. Saying he is so dearly loved is an understatement, while to provide balance to that, and unsurprisingly, some hate him too. But that’s just fair; he isn’t gold or a diamond that everyone would love anyway. He takes no offense anyhow.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">He spent all his heydays supporting most of his nephews and nieces. He sent them (me included) to college until they had their degrees. Not full and total support, but he shouldered the greater chunk. No money was wasted, and he treated everyone as his own blood. Being feminine, he would quip that the only difference is no one among us came from his womb. With him as guardian, no one felt away from home.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Admittedly a gay and single all his life, some friends and distant folks alike would picture him out to be ‘self-containing’ and flying free like a butterfly. But instead, he sacrificed his own very self for us. Not for our sins, he isn’t that religious, but from the perspective of another hard life. His rules were so simple; convince him that you are good at what you want to be, and he’ll be good to you too - and he’ll take care of all the rest.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Simply put, there was nothing left for us to do but to do well with our grades, of which we must not fail him – and we didn’t fail him. As a fact, if all our diplomas had to be dedicated to him, all his walls must have been strategically covered by now. But he’s got no walls of his own. He is until now renting a room. He moves around everywhere near the site of his assigned school, and we seldom can visit him due to his always changing addresses. But he never fails to visit us. That’s how we stay connected. It’s all him doing the effort to check on his ‘clout’. That’s so him actually.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">As a public school teacher, he only receives a very humble income. He had entered into lots of personal loans, now with compounded interest rates, and most if not any of those didn’t serve him at all. He spent every penny for our (us cousins) schooling. And until now he is still paying back those loans, leaving him of almost a nil paycheck. But he never complains. Always all smiles. He claims to be happy of what he does. And we just can’t fathom how to respond correctly.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">When one graduates, he’d pick another ‘scholar’ again, and so on, and yes, up to this moment. No one would approach him whom to choose among his siblings’ kin. He has his own formula. It’s still a puzzle that he does this thing when he should already be looking forward to his retirement plans. No house of his own, no savings, only professional kids that are not his – of which are not yet ‘so made’ to be capable of reciprocating the goodness he has mended them (us). No genius would think that his two remaining years could earn him all he needs when he would no longer be teaching (forced retirement for public school teachers is at age 65). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Of which all these thoughts are coming back to us now. What have we done to this man? Why had he sacrificed all his vigor to better our lives? What motivated him of his wisdom? Is it because he hailed from an extremely poor family, that the long exposure made him so allergy to and so sick from poverty? Boom..! It almost took us forever to find the most apt and fitting answer for that two-cent question.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Now his time is at a dive. Soon he’ll be alone by himself – with only the memories of those little kiddos he had ‘raised’ to become what we are now. Though success is subjective, but comparing to what we were, the leap was just so imminent. I’m hoping for the day that we can repay all the good things he has done. Not on a mathematical basis, but deeper than anything. Though some are showing isolated responses – which he may at times appreciate, I hope we can provide him of all the loving and caress that he deserves for all the kindness that he had bestowed us. Not that he would ask, but because we find it to be our responsibility to give back.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Happy birthday, our dearest Uncle Sam. As you have conquered our feats, we shall forever be loving you with all our hearts; not because you ‘made’ us, but because you are just so lovable, and lovely and all like that. For one, this world is never ever the same without you.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaihTBREoxgXUcm42GHWBgCTpYuX6Agod66cI-92QFzepmMgt0Yi4zk0hOJxM3gVRKhnZorEY99NMA9Il3YyxGqmcoqPYZRvVr-P7iHbAzL1wujBGMCVTqR1tUU47Dgb7GMsarvtXZKFER/s1600/Taki.taki-03.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaihTBREoxgXUcm42GHWBgCTpYuX6Agod66cI-92QFzepmMgt0Yi4zk0hOJxM3gVRKhnZorEY99NMA9Il3YyxGqmcoqPYZRvVr-P7iHbAzL1wujBGMCVTqR1tUU47Dgb7GMsarvtXZKFER/s1600/Taki.taki-03.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaihTBREoxgXUcm42GHWBgCTpYuX6Agod66cI-92QFzepmMgt0Yi4zk0hOJxM3gVRKhnZorEY99NMA9Il3YyxGqmcoqPYZRvVr-P7iHbAzL1wujBGMCVTqR1tUU47Dgb7GMsarvtXZKFER/s320/Taki.taki-03.JPG" /></a></div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-87891047087819650582009-12-16T21:15:00.008+08:002009-12-16T22:00:14.848+08:00A Tale Of An Unfounded Best Seller<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqaKQ_9OET32bGCvH99mkCeZQUmGjvJCBaLgqJGMku6HJ2YicqLP3prCIwCqiCU5Sj7Dneeu5oP8FoUmqUdXULJeVQXXTGItHtCd4Rra1q9u465hwHCoPx2-WHrA036S7KY4dbmmXSaAan/s1600-h/My.Family.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="15" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqaKQ_9OET32bGCvH99mkCeZQUmGjvJCBaLgqJGMku6HJ2YicqLP3prCIwCqiCU5Sj7Dneeu5oP8FoUmqUdXULJeVQXXTGItHtCd4Rra1q9u465hwHCoPx2-WHrA036S7KY4dbmmXSaAan/s320/My.Family.jpg" /></a><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I have started to write this piece a long time ago, but I didn’t know why I just lost interest finishing it. Or maybe because I didn’t know how to cap it, not until I received a call from a friend just today for some hi’s and hello’s and other stuffs (which I will disclose at the last part). And so this is his story.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I have a friend, an overseas Filipino worker like me, and I think he is in trouble. As a matter of fact, he seems to be having an inevitable breakdown.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Well, I became a certified overseas worker since October of 2008. We met at the <st1:place w:st="on">Hong Kong</st1:place> airport at the immigration line. It appeared that we boarded the same plane as his boarding ticket’s flight details were same as mine. He was <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">China</st1:place></st1:country-region> bound too. But to which particular place, I didn’t bother to ask anymore. We rode the same bus to Sheng Shui for the KCR to Lo Wu. From there on of the same day, we parted.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">After about eight months on separate ways, I met him again on one of my exits to <st1:place w:st="on">Hong Kong</st1:place>. He said he was going to Central to remit his salary for his family. So was I for the same reason. And being “old friends”, it was a great moment to have met once again. That time, we found ourselves so comfortable already, as if we have known each other since we were kids, and we took things from there. For the first time, we exchanged numbers. So after each of our transactions was done, we called each other, and had lunch together.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Having too much stories to share regarding our respective jobs, after lunch, we found ourselves sitting together in a bar where most Filipinos would frequent. We ordered beer. At any rate, it is the most common denominator for men to interact. We are both engineers, almost same scope of job. Laughters on our new-fangled experiences, exchanging thoughts on our endeavors.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">He said he had a good job back home, but because he felt he isn’t doing well with respect to offering more for his family, he took the challenge for a greater opportunity, thus. He said his deity was his late father, and he is just trying to emulate how his old pushed himself to provide a better future for them siblings then. He confided that his dad also went offshore for a greener pasture, and that’s how them three kiddos finished college.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I wasn’t paying so much attention to each detail he would say, because in reality, we have pretty much the same humble beginnings. All I can sense though is his imminent passion and desire to uplift his family. I see him to be responsible and well meaning. Just one who could be regarded a hero.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">After all those “introductions”, suddenly, he became a little serious. Maybe it was the beer, but I can read between the lines, there must be some pent-up emotions he had always wanted to let go. At first he had a hard time opening up, but as he started, I can see the indiscernible grain of tears trying to come out of his eyes. The sadness was too much not to notice. I held myself back.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">So he went to share his predicament. His family would not provide him the attention he thinks he deserves. He feels that they must have been overwhelmed by the ‘blessings’ he is providing that they seem can not make time for him anymore – when all he does is nothing else but think about them. Not much of phone calls, or text messages, or e-mails. That they would only call him when there is a domestic concern. He thinks it was a mistake that he decided to work abroad, and that he must have unsuspectingly isolated himself. There is so much guilt within, and he blames himself so bad. That had he not chosen to dream big, he should not be in such quandary.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">But he justified his decision by admitting that he would not be worthy as a father if he limits his capability in shaping his family’s stature, much to his children’s future. He would always say that it was the right thing to do.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">As he go on, he would shake his head to say that he can only hear their voices when it is him who would call, that he would beg for them to call him sometimes, send him text messages, or e-mail him, share some news about anything, just so that he would feel he is being thought about, and to guarantee his feelings that he is being missed too, the same way he misses his family. And yes, they would do as he tells them – but just for a quite sometime, and then it is the same dilemma all over again.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I wanted to stop him right there because I can feel he is going down. I can hear the masked sobs in between, and so I would lift my glass and bang to his, and we would gulp. Not for the drink, but for him to breath. It is quite heartbreaking to see a willful man having a thought of digging his own hole. It’s a little bizarre for me. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">In my heart, I can only sympathize with him. Being in the same boat except for his impasse, I perfectly understand that being away from family generates random thoughts and emotions. Too bad he has to deal with such a thing, and it makes it worse that he has no one to share, and so maybe it was also good that we bumped into each other that day. He should be lucky that I had the time and sympathy to listen, though I was just so sad to hear such a story.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">At the back of my mind, I can only appreciate the fact that I do not experience his misery. I can not even catch up with the flooding of the daily (yes, daily, and I am not exaggerating) text messages and e-mails from my wife and kids. In contrast, it is them who would complain that maybe I don’t read their e-mails that is why they do not get a reply to each of their messages, of which I would apologize – not because I don’t read them, but because I simply get engaged with my job, and they would understand, well, a bit. They would call me each weekend to share their Sunday funs - that they went to church and prayed for my health and safety. The kids would tell me how they are doing in school, and I would feel proud of their little achievements. And the proximity is resignedly quenched with the attachment. I am just squarely left of nothing more to nitpick about.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I know I’m not a lucky guy, but with the vast love and care that my family is showering me, I can never imagine being in his shoes, not for one second. Hearing his story, there is just nothing for me to complain.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I had to cheer him up and assure that the rain doesn’t pour in all seasons. And he would shrug his shoulders and smile in jest. I think he had long needed that kind of release, and I must have been of help to a certain extent. We had some more beers and other not-so-glowing stories until we decided it is time to go our own ways as we are separately booked for the overnight before going back to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">China</st1:place></st1:country-region> the next morning.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">That night, it was never easy for me to sleep. Some wild thoughts were running in my brain. But there was nothing solid that I can grasp. My feelings were hollow.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">After that meeting, I never heard from him like forever again, not until this morning. He called to ask me if he is about to make the right decision. He said he met a married-but-separated Filipina in <st1:place w:st="on">Hong Kong</st1:place> on his next exit after our drink, and they have communicated well ever since. He confessed that they would spend the night together each time he is in <st1:place w:st="on">Hong Kong</st1:place>, and that she is providing him the caring and attention he had always been longing from his family. They seem to compliment each other, and now she became his inspiration.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">He asked me if it is right that he just send money and would not go spend Christmas with his family back home, and instead 'celebrate' the yuletide with his “new-found friend”. I paused for a few seconds because I must respond very carefully. And so I told him; “Bro, it is not what I tell you, but what you think is right”. And he said; “Thanks bro, I needed that. I may have the same thoughts as you would say afterall, because I think it is just right and fair for me to be happy too”.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">I was dumbfounded. I really didn’t know what to say any further. God knows he read my answer wrong, but I know he already made his mind even before he called me. If only I could rescind his track. But I’m settled of how he thought I reacted to his query, because if things are still the same way when he told me his tale, I can only be sure that his wife and kids would not miss him so much anyway. What only became clear to me is one of the many reasons how a family could go down the drain. That when we do not take care of our loved ones, someone else shall take care of them. So in closing, I just wished him a Merry Christmas.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: black;">The conversation we just had still runs in my head. Damn, I can’t wait to fly back home six days from now, and spend Christmas with my loving family once again.</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-35854183882262734912009-12-15T21:21:00.002+08:002010-05-14T13:45:44.146+08:00Purposely Accidental<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4GywZbiuptrMl5ryPc3O-pe0F2mupO_qRYyx28FzJpWrNpOjy631zMKd5l9QeXkJ3rCcCnOys_mff0FoqbotuYAyn7fUf30J9d-fnVYcIY9ETwuO4abWad-knkiodr0s5JF3M4-WPLtDH/s1600-h/Of-Course-I-Love-You.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="15" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4GywZbiuptrMl5ryPc3O-pe0F2mupO_qRYyx28FzJpWrNpOjy631zMKd5l9QeXkJ3rCcCnOys_mff0FoqbotuYAyn7fUf30J9d-fnVYcIY9ETwuO4abWad-knkiodr0s5JF3M4-WPLtDH/s320/Of-Course-I-Love-You.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" http-equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><style>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Love. It is life’s optimum and ultimate purpose. And certainly, it is purely accidental. For one thing specific, it comes in all forms of surprises.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">The one whom you think you’d grow old with would appear not to be – and in fact you’d only last for 2 months (how you wish it could have been just 2 weeks, or 2 days), 5 dinner dates (all your treat), and 3 movies (all your treat too, even with the drinks and popcorns), not to mention how you brave all those heavy traffics and heavy rains in fetching and sending him/her back home – of which he/she resides way opposite and off your place. While the one who was always by your sight that you would never see, is in fact the one you’d spend your whole life with. Indeed, purposely accidental.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">First love never dies? Wrong. My Mom’s first love was my Dad, and he is dead. End of discussion.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">How many of us must have been in long engagements, only to end up to someone else’s arms? Or how many of us must have been drifters for the longest time, until the one we would have unexpected most is now the same person we wake up with in each morning – whom we’d say the sweetest words we could have never imagined?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Unconditional things about love are just a few. There are no standards – go with your preference. There are no limits – it is self regulatory. There are no boundaries – your morals shall dictate on you. And there are no rules – to each’ his own.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">One tricky thing about love though is the hurting and pain. Some of us would welcome it as an ‘ingredient’ to spice up the ‘starter’. While others just have no taste bud for ‘ingredients’, wouldn’t care for ‘starters’, and would only settle for the ‘main course’. It all depends on us what we want from love.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Love don’t come easy, this I would unquestionably believe. Everyone is bound to go through the test of times, even when no one press on us. No one tells us the inevitability of standing by. Only we would know what we want, and oftentimes we would not even ask ourselves why. Heck, who would even care anyway!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Some don’t have the strength to fight for love, and wouldn’t spend another minute for ‘uncertainty’, and while they can’t live alone, so that they would rather jump into another relationship even without any grip of guarantee on finding the supposed ‘missing link’. It could be a continuous process, because no matter what, love just goes around, and comes around – in circles.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Indeed, the core of love is within. We seldom care of the people around us. The rationale is not being inconsiderate – but just not being selfish to our own self. There could be an apparent misguidance from a distance, but it’s just ourselves and ourselves alone who would know what are best for us. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">But in the contrary, we don’t judge ourselves in everything we do. That’s the job of the people around us. We can only choose and insist on things we partake, but just like when we point fingers onto others, reality remains that more fingers are pointed back on us.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">So that we shall never see the beauty of what love brings until we mull over that no man is an island. This thought shall turn all the differences that we are supposed to deal with, if not a must. Love is never solitaire. At minimum, it takes two to tango.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">Love gravitates love, and is always mysterious. And its luster shall always depend on how we interlace with its prospectus. We may not be wise while in love, but no one shall ever negate our sanity from us – unless we lose it on purpose. And when that becomes the case, then we become incapable of exercising the whole syllabus. Otherwise, we just have to hold on onto the pieces and pick up from there. We have to develop a feeling that something beautiful must come out.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;">At the end of the day, we just have to fill up our senses, and be on the happier side while enjoying all the pleasures of love’s journey. With love, we have to admit that no matter what we do – we affect people’s lives, whether accidentally on purpose, or purposely accidental. We can only be selfish at times, but should never be self-centered at all times. Or you end up always searching for the kind of love that never was.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-13120894789683647542009-12-10T20:35:00.008+08:002009-12-10T20:48:28.298+08:00Honor. Courage. Commitment.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8vURwVPw0bHwz9qkQ20ccmCIY-h2eSOtWYiun4OkGIv1JV3OeAqpc6Y0Bzs5OvKk06ne4l-nFsRe9U0XM0Bp9QyPrHn3SuHQ5yLV8xTkOQbLbG7vajmfJxopRmSgnIyL7VijaZ5Fl68g/s1600-h/Honor.Courage.Commitment.jpg" imageanchor="1" linkindex="19" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8vURwVPw0bHwz9qkQ20ccmCIY-h2eSOtWYiun4OkGIv1JV3OeAqpc6Y0Bzs5OvKk06ne4l-nFsRe9U0XM0Bp9QyPrHn3SuHQ5yLV8xTkOQbLbG7vajmfJxopRmSgnIyL7VijaZ5Fl68g/s320/Honor.Courage.Commitment.jpg" /><meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" http-equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><style>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">I</span><span style="color: black;">n sports, there is a team that chants “One Big Fight!”. And they shout it at the top of their lungs with utmost pride.</span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> In fights, we would come across with a striking theme that goes, “No Guts, No Glory!”. And the passion is just too strong for a drive.</span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> In academics, there is always the wisdom of “Poverty is not a hindrance to success”. And the motivation is tops.</span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> And in life, “Walk With Faith!”.</span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> But in general, life is but the biggest battle everyone must hurdle. And there is only one ideal course to go through – the trail to survival. We need a lot of courage to walk through life, because day to day is an uphill climb. We can have some breaks in between, but when times get rough, going back is never a possibility. There is only one direction – to move forward. </span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> Inevitably, surrender means defeat, which can also be decimated as suicidal. While some people choose to play dumb, others would feel so small when around with perceived to be bright people. Distraction is either self-inflicted, or willingly achieved. Paranoia will take the driver’s seat, and focus will run sideways. Then you would see these individuals blaming everything and everyone under the sun, or even beyond – except themselves. That’s just awesome.</span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> It takes a lot of courage to succeed, no matter what barometer is exploited as reference or gauge. Different people have different dreams. Some goes for just a notch better than what they presently have, while some guns for big time. It all depends on one’s satisfaction, or when people would seem to be contented. While it is also true that satisfaction or contentment is only an option, and that the so-called destiny is what we make. It is also true that everyone has their own definition of fulfillment.</span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> Everyone can go on dreaming and aiming and reaching and accomplishing their goals, notwithstanding of whatever they want. But it is in the execution towards the objective that differentiates people. Some would choose to chop anything that goes against their ways, while some prefer to consider honor.</span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> Honor. I was taught that it is just but three simple things.</span><br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> 1. Not to hurt your parents with your actions.</span><br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> 2. Not to disgrace your family name in humiliation. </span><br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> 3. Not to put yourself in danger in any measure or form.</span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> Quite easy and straightforward as it may appear, but guess everyone must have violated them a couple of dozen times already. But when we look at the place where we are at and with our own families right now, we should be able to say with head held high that – there is no way we have gravely violated the above definition of honor. There can be delinquencies as surely there were, but must not be those kinds of beyond repair. Being human beings permit the vulnerability to commit mistakes, but should only be within the bounds of extreme consideration that they were not intentional, reflecting on the effect to those around us.</span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /> <i style="color: black;">[As of this writing, I got to phone my eldest daughter, and I was hurtfully stung by the bad news that she brought me. She was suspected to have cheated in one of her exams, and that the school had invited my wife to appear the next day to discuss the matter, and as well to hear the side of our child. Be it true or not, and not that I am pompous to even reveal this low blow, but consequences to even apparently small things just seem to ricochet so quickly sometimes. She was crying so sheepishly as we talked, denying the act. But at her age, she has to better start dealing with the consequences of her actions. Not that I do not condone her if she did con, but the situation may also serve as a wake-up call at an earlier stage of her life. Ironically if she did, I am glad that she had this kind of mistakes now, because sooner or later, maybe she may indulge herself into worse situations, and then maybe it would be more irreparable. Now, she can experience the walk of shame, and perhaps, it would give her goose bumps in the future and choose not to go through the same condition all over again.</i><span style="color: black;">] </span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> Talk is cheap, and that’s a no-brainer. But when the only best friend left to us is our own words and actions, and then it would not be any better than to just let the good things find their ways into our inner selves.</span><br style="color: black;" /> <br style="color: black;" /><span style="color: black;"> If we commit to ourselves of what we want to achieve, having courage as our vehicle, and honor as our guiding light, there is just no other way to go but to the right direction. And the only factor left to measure success shall be our self gratification and satisfaction. That when in our hearts we can feel that sense of delight, it is only then that we can settle, and call it a day – with nothing but the drive to uphold the fruits of our undertakings, and become the superhero of our wisdom.</span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-92074276282519179412009-12-05T13:00:00.015+08:002009-12-05T14:21:40.632+08:00Filipino Old Schools<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">There is just a full string of Filipino cultures that in my humblest opinion, needs revisiting – if not awakening. I can typify these to why we have not moved forward for the longest time, and maybe, yes maybe, this is why we are stuck into where we are until now, leaving us drooling to the progression of other countries surrounding us.</span></p><p style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">This write-up may not necessarily be correct and accurate, but let me go on anyway. Whether I am wrong or not, it can still be educational both to those who subscribe or differ to my thoughts. And while for the non-believers, then at least they can see the deficiencies opposite my narrative, and may offer the real pictures accordingly on how things affect their lives.</span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;"></span>
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<br /></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJSi0BUwVAhfHuGF740OCArblAjHxBElyjCvjiHdzu5ElZsJrTTZxVJgyhU_DglHOvSmS0YCpsDL1zMZj6ak5zmalAulQuFiB4xPx7RllIHFzEkCcaM4o_fnio5I1RvuF-JvD59XAWBKc/s1600-h/Hi.And.Lo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJSi0BUwVAhfHuGF740OCArblAjHxBElyjCvjiHdzu5ElZsJrTTZxVJgyhU_DglHOvSmS0YCpsDL1zMZj6ak5zmalAulQuFiB4xPx7RllIHFzEkCcaM4o_fnio5I1RvuF-JvD59XAWBKc/s320/Hi.And.Lo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411628424161554738" border="0" /></a>
<br /></span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-family: arial;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style="">Dependency:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">It is always good to see those who have more sharing their blessings to those who have less. But as the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers. They had their time on their hands. And whatever circumstances they were endowed, there is imminent manifestation that they did not maximize their efforts, and defied their wisdom for a better life. They practiced free will, and when they made up their minds, they did not involve anyone. But then, why is it that when people realize they made the wrong choice, they tend to look after the fruition of the go-getter? With that, I’m a bit lost.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>But in reality, this can be attributed to close family ties. There is always the cling on assistance. The motivation to greater leaps is hindered because of the thought that someone shall always look after one’s shoulders. There is no push to gun to realize young dreams via intense enthusiasm. There is always the thought on solicitation of support – as if it is even mandatory. We see it everyday; in the neighborhood, in the papers, on TV - the failure of next of kins is often blamed on the success of the hard workers. Annoying, but true.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicFOWY93p1U3Qt5cBZ10MJPO6X7PVDNc5ydLi-RgWXd5k0LmapLO03qtZlVLvnC7AydvsJt0UKFnzst1jFV52VZoXtqlitw_UkYmIHV9UnS4Bob7hys4PZhF5Zs9W4ov63-2xmKe093vN/s1600-h/Traffic.Violation.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicFOWY93p1U3Qt5cBZ10MJPO6X7PVDNc5ydLi-RgWXd5k0LmapLO03qtZlVLvnC7AydvsJt0UKFnzst1jFV52VZoXtqlitw_UkYmIHV9UnS4Bob7hys4PZhF5Zs9W4ov63-2xmKe093vN/s320/Traffic.Violation.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411619596291850962" border="0" /></a></span> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-family: arial;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style="">
<br /></b></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style="">Compliance:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">For those who go off shore – either for visit or to live, they deem wary even to the most basic rules of the host country. They would never let their guards down. They don’t want any snag. Of which is perfectly in contrast to the behavior that we encompass in our own turf. Ordinary people, learned, uneducated, elites, politicians, regardless of status, age and gender – it is all the same. We care more on how to go around the bend instead of just complying with what should be and go home to be happy with our families, and sleep trouble free.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">While for other races that come to visit us, we expect things the same way it is expected from us to be doing that we do not. Double standard, maybe? Undeniably, that’s us.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNYG3bYWQKBEhN1aal1OWK_OptoG02i2Fxdvds77gh-r8my3EwTsvUeL_3JMFOmJxDfOZ2Rqc6-kHD3qQkRFdswF3qZkLZP2_jwqsa6XvnqlR2Szs7o_Bo6kzCIybcwMxPRBOm0BYXDXv9/s1600-h/Bad.Luck.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 157px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNYG3bYWQKBEhN1aal1OWK_OptoG02i2Fxdvds77gh-r8my3EwTsvUeL_3JMFOmJxDfOZ2Rqc6-kHD3qQkRFdswF3qZkLZP2_jwqsa6XvnqlR2Szs7o_Bo6kzCIybcwMxPRBOm0BYXDXv9/s320/Bad.Luck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411616030947499602" border="0" /></a></span> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-family: arial;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style="">
<br /></b></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style="">Paradigm:<o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Tons of superstitious beliefs that even with the kind of advance education and technology that we are endowed, we still tend to subscribe. We create our own ghosts, and get frightened of our own creation. We clip our minds, and cuff our own selves. Instead of moving forward which is expected to be the ideal thing to do, we prefer to either stay still, or worse, step backwards. For one; there is no such thing as sunrise and/or sunset because the sun never moved. As if anyone still doesn’t know, it is the earth that revolves around the sun. That must have been taught in elementary science already, and it seems that to this date, our teachers had always been wrong.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">We should be like a memory-card that just continues to absorb and store new things. And for the old files, I bet we tend to delete them, or archive somewhere. We should respect reality at modern times. Betamax is long gone, or you may choose to ask your kids about it for a frown. We may still keep them for reference, but whether we like it or not, we can not put them in use at these times anymore.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdrRM0ntroIIgPkhOmuF8MtfTmKbVoGAHsjYFd247k2RZGFx886qtksst7OQCxfAW-SesRlpjIYLqAhnUq_eeEPieBg5Eqj_mLhIAaSK0fdnLF_Zh-yW19oGcDzvdFJnaav83U9gXxZjXZ/s1600-h/Pardon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdrRM0ntroIIgPkhOmuF8MtfTmKbVoGAHsjYFd247k2RZGFx886qtksst7OQCxfAW-SesRlpjIYLqAhnUq_eeEPieBg5Eqj_mLhIAaSK0fdnLF_Zh-yW19oGcDzvdFJnaav83U9gXxZjXZ/s320/Pardon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411615193848559618" border="0" /></a></span> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-family: arial;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style="">
<br /></b></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style="">Ever-forgiving</b>:</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Sleep with someone else and admit to your spouse later, and you will be forgiven for being true and honest. Sow kindness and/or be famous and steal big time later, and you shall easily be forgiven because what you did was only a misdemeanor. And the likes, etcetera, and etc… Anything you do becomes a juvenile, with worst consequence of a “please next time don’t you ever do that again”. Hands down, with the absolution already at hand even before a wrongdoing is obligated, it is always welcome to make mistakes. To others, it is even encouraged. That is why the doers would not much show remorse because they know what they shall be accorded anyway.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">And we expect those who violate us to be accordingly dealt with? Please… <em>The greatest trick the devil ever did was convincing the world that he didn't exist</em><em style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-style: normal;">. We see and we know something not right is happening and we choose to close our eyes, or worst turn blind and outrightly forgive instead of chastise. That’s us, very soft-hearted as a </span>tofu</em><em><span style="font-style: normal;">.</span></em></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><em><span style="font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p> <span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQUARIAx5zP_2gS8e_JHXqZnqBYUW4n7SO1afM3L-wCsw4o6cfM7WqByNAghPFdgUFLjbBErb5f7G_yOwI0SIKKO54GdUokwXxHHIn1st3stN_KQb8OGYbhY43FzaYw4qCAIEu8tQXDO2a/s1600-h/Easy.Life.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQUARIAx5zP_2gS8e_JHXqZnqBYUW4n7SO1afM3L-wCsw4o6cfM7WqByNAghPFdgUFLjbBErb5f7G_yOwI0SIKKO54GdUokwXxHHIn1st3stN_KQb8OGYbhY43FzaYw4qCAIEu8tQXDO2a/s320/Easy.Life.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411614970533418738" border="0" /></a></span> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-family: arial;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><em><b style=""><span style="font-style: normal;">Bureau-crazy:<o:p></o:p></span></b></em></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><em><span style="font-style: normal;"><o:p> </o:p></span></em></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><em><span style="font-style: normal;">This is the worst trait that Filipinos tend to hug tightly on. It is not what you know, but whom you know. The friendship outstands between what is right and wrong. What is idyllic is shadowed by relationships. We elect to dwarf ourselves from the permissible. We side with emotions over morality. Though we show sympathy to the underdogs, it appears to be just a stunt for the show. In reality, we do not accord to the accurate definition of fairness. Our hearts would more often rule over our brains. We just can not discern when to loosen up the ties. We’d always favor to live according to individual benefits. And then we go to church every Sunday to say our thanks for the graces – and for spiritual fortification. I just don’t get it.</span></em></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><em><span style="font-style: normal;">
<br /></span></em></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><em><span style="font-style: normal;"><o:p> </o:p></span></em></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><em><span style="font-style: normal;">I can go on with my list, but these are just some of those that I hate much from the good traits that we Filipinos have. It is not as if I was never integral to these syndromes, but my wisdom dictates me with optimism that one day, we shall get over with from these obstacles for a better standard of life. Maybe it is something that we can dream for our kids and for the next generations – that life would offer them greater experiences as we grow old, and that when they have to back-read on the “renovation” of Filipino culture, they would see our smiles curved in every advantage that they pound on as compared to what we had in our own version of our medieval time.</span></em></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><span style="font-style: normal;">
<br /></span></em></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><em><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="">Whatever, however, whenever – if ever, it may be everyone’s dream to be enjoying better things like other races do, without sacrificing our own Filipino values, morality, and principles. It may</span> just be my prayer now, but I sure hear a lot humming…</span></em></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style=""><o:p></o:p></i></span></p> Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-44349387827507040552009-11-16T15:12:00.008+08:002010-01-01T12:28:53.823+08:00Portals<span style="color: #000066; font-size: 85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1GILFJBRnfdIIMJdHs-Wg_Z0AQaCuKW4_5jSov8-sCo1u7PZiGhyphenhyphenwSoQFQYdOmBL-uI_QqNwgvkem52y3q6b8V0CYTsYFH5r-seOzGIQSNBk0679BW1xnWPAJEOqjLRfuP8_A-hVH89DG/s1600/Facebook.jpg" linkindex="16" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404598202519640162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1GILFJBRnfdIIMJdHs-Wg_Z0AQaCuKW4_5jSov8-sCo1u7PZiGhyphenhyphenwSoQFQYdOmBL-uI_QqNwgvkem52y3q6b8V0CYTsYFH5r-seOzGIQSNBk0679BW1xnWPAJEOqjLRfuP8_A-hVH89DG/s320/Facebook.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 226px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></span><meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List" style="color: #000066;"></link><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;">Facebook? Check. Friendster? Check. MySpace? Check. Skype? Check. Yahoo Messenger? Check. MSN? Check. Gmail Chat? Check. Blogs? Check. Web-mails? Check. E-groups? Check. And all those other kinds, types and form of cyber interfaces… Check… check… check..!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"> <br />
</span><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p>What are these for? Why are people so hooked? What would be the imminent relevance of all these stuffs? Romance maybe? Frustration vents? Emotional outlets? But undeniably, it all boils down to communication, in and out. Conveyance. Keeping in touch. Getting updated. Spiritually close while deficient from proximity. Simply put it; being there while not.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"> <br />
</span><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p>There is always the option of going out to places, and/or moving around and find friends, but those portals are just in reality far most accessible to look for tons. There is even always the element of surprise!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"> <br />
</span><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p>A long lost friend or an untraceable overly missed fellow will just pop out from nowhere and before one would know, you have already been trading great memories, and updates, and plans, and such. Yes, on portals.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"> <br />
</span><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p>For distant folks, it is about economics. A day-long chat would even be way down cheaper that a minute voice call. There’s just no trade for such a bargain. Mathematics is absolute. It’s a no-brainer.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"> <br />
</span><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p>Disenchantment on anything can also be feigned in portals. You can contradict your personality and agree later. Be mean and rude and all what-nots, and be amazed that you find it funny. Kill people without the worry of seeing a judge or facing the jury. Shout out loud as you can with all those caps-lock and exclamation points! Everyone hears you, with no guarantee that they listen.</span><br />
</div><span style="color: #000066; font-family: arial; font-size: 78%;"> <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NBCm8LsdEmAvOD9lPLwwzI-8peIFKy0ElDeHlAEVJB9EPp8iQXHuLgZHUEgMcvQME8I2UiD39bNvlsVAd2IquEeNQgR1eia9D4Xmgr07YYLX3gsPLp6-NDYkmibJJXU7X4VKLHMgbffy/s1600/Web-chatting.jpg" linkindex="17" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404598026044653522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NBCm8LsdEmAvOD9lPLwwzI-8peIFKy0ElDeHlAEVJB9EPp8iQXHuLgZHUEgMcvQME8I2UiD39bNvlsVAd2IquEeNQgR1eia9D4Xmgr07YYLX3gsPLp6-NDYkmibJJXU7X4VKLHMgbffy/s320/Web-chatting.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 178px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></span><meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"></link><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;">For singles, broken hearted and pretenders alike, it is but another option for romance. It is safe as there is no physical contact. Anonymity can also be a must for a start. With that, anyone can be anybody. Free from charge of inhibition ballistics and salvos. It’s a come-what-may to-whom-it-may-confuse thing. If it clicks, then it’s all good. Something beautiful may come by. But if not, then there is always the option of dealing with another specie through the same process again and again… and again. It’s a self-regulated thing. No holds barred.</span><br />
</div><span style="color: #000066; font-family: arial; font-size: 78%;"> <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3CGAR6_Mtd3bsEBbgRfpTEce-EVtzUE3djVpp51EMsD4e7Sjlx2NzGAY_M0bseC6XWJXyk9VKiaaV_9vGxYHzy_PJwePsiYGjUH2O8y_lbIjgnWvR4KOPi-Yihs1yrU5fxGCE_zpXnks/s1600/honesty_low.jpg" linkindex="18" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404597643732019154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3CGAR6_Mtd3bsEBbgRfpTEce-EVtzUE3djVpp51EMsD4e7Sjlx2NzGAY_M0bseC6XWJXyk9VKiaaV_9vGxYHzy_PJwePsiYGjUH2O8y_lbIjgnWvR4KOPi-Yihs1yrU5fxGCE_zpXnks/s320/honesty_low.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 299px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></span><meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 11" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"></link><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;">In portals, abuse is just a word found in dictionary. There are no rules, only game plans. No one can “normalize” anyone. You can observe the prosperity of work arounds. Whether anything one do is good or bad, it all depends on the benefits savored.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"> <br />
</span><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p>But another story would be; how must it be maximized for good use. Did people “invent” these portals for ill motives? I don’t think so. The possibilities must have been thought though, but nevertheless, it was the grater advantage that had prevailed their intuition. Moving people even at still. Abundance of presence in every keyboard front. Smiles that we don’t usually get at work, even from parents. Appreciations on the effort, not necessarily on what we truly do. That should be fantastic. Ecstatically awesome too…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"> <br />
</span><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p>But how must these really be put in line with each portal architect’s objectives?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"> <br />
</span><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p>We must use these tools according to how our values and principles would dictate us, no more and no less. And not according to things we would not want to be doing when we are up front face to face to people. It may just be another option to communication, but if we have them, let it give us a good ride with nothing at the tip of our fingers but plain love.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"> <br />
</span><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p>So, care to chat? Do you have a web cam? Will you be sending me smileys each morning? What about an e-mail maybe?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"> <br />
</span><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #000066; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"><o:p></o:p>Hmnn… got Facebook btw..?</span> <br />
<br />
</div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-87403599159089943252009-11-10T11:06:00.011+08:002009-12-07T19:30:31.653+08:00The Cliché of Leaping Over the Label Hump<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHyE28EQOBguj1ctncLHHGzOEMqechnoRAMLkISCQG_w_hKn97OrcAwO5SIetWxbRS2U8PITnzaJrYitDipH-dhzbC4unqnxZ6klK45phfCfzWkA19ace8p4A6WrJxEoRzyVJ2BgeTACi1/s1600-h/Rich+Pigeon,+Poor+Sparrow.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHyE28EQOBguj1ctncLHHGzOEMqechnoRAMLkISCQG_w_hKn97OrcAwO5SIetWxbRS2U8PITnzaJrYitDipH-dhzbC4unqnxZ6klK45phfCfzWkA19ace8p4A6WrJxEoRzyVJ2BgeTACi1/s320/Rich+Pigeon,+Poor+Sparrow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402309254470629986" border="0" /></a>
<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Ever felt of the regard that is particular to what you were, rather than what you have become? When all that is talked about are how you were, rather than the present you? That being a swan is rather just a smokescreen of the ugly duckling that you were way down the past? That the hard work is never significant, as anyway - you are still looked upon as you were?</span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" >
<br /></span> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Why is it that more often than not, once poor always a poor? Why is it so hard to get over the stigma of a <i style="">label </i>which for-all-I-care may not even be essential whether it have ever existed at all? Is it more of a culture, or just the effin’ way of life?</span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" >
<br /></span> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Everyday, we happen to come across at certain situations, and all we can do is sigh. It’s like; “Damn, what more <b style=""><i style="">must</i></b> I need to prove to somehow be recognized and belong.”</span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" >
<br /></span> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style="">“Being born poor is never wrong, but to perish as one must be”</b>. Those words were told a gazillion times already, and it is what motivates people in pursuing life in any form. Some work it out the hard way, and the others would choose shortcuts. In conclusion, the end shall always justify the means anyway. Some are judged how one struggled, while some are never judged at all. And this could be the bitter part of it.</span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" >
<br /></span> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">There are just those who choose not to check on the fruits, but rather would prefer to shoot on the weathered trunks. It is frustrating that appreciation of the experience would not even come into play. It could be throbbing, but what people prefer to see is the old you. Maybe because they got familiar to it, and it is easier to deal with what they were cozier of, and that any new things you could offer would not be important at all, and no one would care.</span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" >
<br /></span> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Maybe a sting of insecurity from their end, but that you shall never know. They won’t even give you a shot it. At the back of their minds, they already passed way down the road of what you have just started to hit. So, no big deal. There’s really nothing new after all.</span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" >
<br /></span> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style="">So that for the ‘deprived’ from the humblest beginnings, they would take life’s challenges squarely. During family gatherings, they are seen on the sides while the alpha dogs are belting their tunes with their wine glasses. It is not that they have wanted those corners, but that was the social treatment that they are accorded. But it is helpful though – because it boosts their adrenaline to vision what they would want to be.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">
<br /></span></span> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style="">So that they would be strongly driven with a rock-steady determination to leap over the hump. They would dream for a better future, and the only partaking required from their hearts is the resolve to deliver. And in their own standards, they would <span style=""> </span>push their little frames to succeed. And they shall be. And themselves would be grateful.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <div style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span> </div><p style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style="">But the sting of the social order is just so unfair. Going back into those family affairs, those who must have enjoyed seeing them on the sides decades ago still would crave to put them back there. There is no premium to what they have pulled off. They still see the holes in their clothes, or the mud on their faces. The blueprint was already framed in their mentality. What an attitude…<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><div style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style="">That when the self-proclaimed elites have their own events, the achievers would be invited – with a pronouncement that they shall be hated to their graves if they would not show up. Wow, they would be suddenly recognized! And so, in reciprocation to that exceptional treatment, of course they would go - only to find out that they don’t even have an assigned table, finding themselves being squeezed-in into non-relatives. And the second time they shall exchange pleasantries is when they have to leave (or sometimes, in response to their badly hurt sentiments, they would rather not budge, and just walk away and be gone).<o:p>
<br /></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style=""><o:p></o:p></i></span></p><div style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;"> </div><p style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style="">And when it is the underprivileged guys’ turn to send an invitation, them cream of the crop shall out of the blue be as busy as hell. But make no mistake; as if to make you feel any better, comes the assurance that they will get back to their schedules, and <b style="">try very hard</b> to come down. As if there was nothing important in your life when you accede to their invitation. As if you are always free to their calling. Yes, it is so surprising how comfortable for them to turn down a warm incitement – but as if such was not expected at all though.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" >
<br /></span> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Yet them dark horses also have to uplift their developed principles into their improved personalities. They have to feel special too. They have to reward themselves. And when they just don’t seem to fit to the usual pack…</span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" >
<br /></span> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">That is when they have to create their own circle, and re-align their league. They try to seek their own level. They become resolute that a fresh start is believed to be far better rather than to sneak into the old system that seem to be so imprudent. It is only then that they can establish who they are at present, how they want to be properly addressed and recognized and reap the labor of hardship. They bail from a union where they are never given a chance to feel somewhat exceptional, with the due respect that they must deserve. Because if life’s cycle is relatively linear, they should not be steadily downstairs. Not that they want to see their old script from other people, but only to give commence of what they have accomplished.</span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" >
<br /></span> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1026"> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapelayout ext="edit"> <o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"> </o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--> </p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">There are just things that go-getters can never get hold of, respect included. Not because it is not worked for, but just an irony to the philosophy that watching the paint dry does not necessitate a change in color. Some things are just bound to be irrepressible.</span></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">
<br /></span></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">And in cases as such, you shall find yourself as another victim of unfortunate circumstances. And the only thing that can change perceptions is within.</span></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">
<br /></span></span></p><p style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Inarguably that it may not be the same in all situations, but that can be the surest thing to do to feel better. For what could be your ultimate goal in life – if not to be happy?</span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-size:78%;" >
<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">How to leap over the label hump? Bail out, and launch anew. </span><span style="font-size:78%;">Ctrl-Alt-Del.</span></p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p face="arial" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">But if it is thought that it should not be that way, then there is always the <i style="">free will</i>. As reality would dictate, in life there are no options. <b style="">Only choices.</b></span></p> Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-43594499685445809252009-10-23T08:38:00.004+08:002009-10-23T09:01:40.205+08:00Serenity<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8J-li9H28NUCsFf7Ze-iGdpV8tyOo_2Egehs67IEqosCXzLDYuTZoTKpUz4te23mNN_rHsh93wa0qEZE3gAx2CWuLpLr210RnG7-rB8xcgF2TTF8H92bbaqL6QPgXcxoyHFd3d56slMsR/s1600-h/Serenity.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8J-li9H28NUCsFf7Ze-iGdpV8tyOo_2Egehs67IEqosCXzLDYuTZoTKpUz4te23mNN_rHsh93wa0qEZE3gAx2CWuLpLr210RnG7-rB8xcgF2TTF8H92bbaqL6QPgXcxoyHFd3d56slMsR/s320/Serenity.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395590060868651506" border="0" /></a><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Sacrifice. Is it same as surrender? It could be in some instances. But why would most people claim it as heroic? What would push them in performing such a valiant mode, or could it be rather idiotic since there is no guaranteed exchange of prize? Who categorizes rewards? Is it even diplomatic to warrant “big risks for big rewards”?</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">If we put meaning in all we do, would that be entirely wrong? Who must authenticate the level of its significance? Or the question is, is it even essential?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>What drives people to arrive at certain decisions? What happens if we do not have one at all, and just rely on fate? And is fate unambiguous at all? Who must have defined it?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>When do we submit that what comes to us is actually our destiny? Ain’t there really no any work-around to turn things the other way? Of which product is the <i style="">what-if</i>?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>Equilibrium. Gravity. Uniform distribution. Law of Physics. Is it always right to believe and subscribe? When would each be applicable, and to which condition only? Wouldn’t that be over selective? But who ever said that life is fair?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>Is it always practical to consider the principle of the <i style="">carrot and stick</i>? What about <i style="">karma</i>, or conscience? Aren’t these two supposed to be the ultimate guiding factors for supreme dispositions?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>It is a fact that being alone is not synchronous to being lonely. Agreeably, lonely is a sad word. There is not even another better word to put it other than that. Lonely, sad, desperate, suicide. That’s just chronologically heartbreaking, or could it get any worse?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>Comparatively then… when people are alone, either they are sad, or just being themselves, or with themselves, or by themselves. Case closed.<i style=""><o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><i style=""><o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style=""><o:p></o:p>[Well, it is moot that I prefer the latter. Maybe it is in solidarity where I am, but I can tell that I’m not lonely at all. Actually, I’m even inspired! What? Why would anyone even have to question that?]<o:p></o:p></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>But hey, isn’t it a fact that the idle mind usually generates the greatest of thoughts, innovations, inventions, or even new life? Or on the other hand, unending thread of questions which would rather complicate rationalities right upon the attempt to dissect and decipher for exact reasons.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>Thus the tons of questions; which people do not usually engage to when they are into something more relevant or significant situation in response to human’s continued existence, but are inevitable for those who are mistreated of unfortunate circumstances.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>If not to further complicate matters:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>You reap what you sow. Do unto others what you want others do unto you. Do not do unto others what you do not want others do unto you. They may sound familiar and mean the same to some novice, but not to further scrutinizing individuals. Let’s put some mortal and statistical dynamics unto each, and check which one is realistic, and which one is virtual.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>You reap what you sow. Okay, yes, maybe. But hope has no guarantees. Ever heard of false hopes?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>Do unto others what you want others do unto you. If I religiously pay my dues, would I be compensated back my rights in due time? Ever heard of corruption?<o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Do not do unto others what you do not want others do unto you. Is not doing bad, the same as doing good? So if I do nothing, have I actually done outstanding?<o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Why does everything seem to be complicated rather than just to be simple? What makes anything to be harder than how they appear to be? Hovering questions, doubts, uncertainties, worries, fears, retributions, yada-yada-yada…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>But watching the sun go down at the end of the day, there is one thing sure that is undeniable. It all boils down to choices made, wisdom, responsibility, and attitude.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>Putting all in just one word; serenity it is…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style=""><i style="">God grant me the serenity<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style=""><i style="">To accept the things I cannot change;<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style=""><i style="">Courage to change the things I can;<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><b style=""><i style="">And wisdom to know the difference.<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>Tranquilly being positive, that is my ultimate prayer that each soul shall be. And compellingly without an iota of reservation, it shall only be the time when the illusive “world peace” (whatever that means, though it sounds good… I think) can walk the talk.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>Difficulties usually arise every time premium is particular to the consequence, rather than the objective. When greater attention is provided on the collateral damage rather than the magnitude of the goal, adversities is born. The trade of life shall never be square or flat, no matter what. Like animosities, the curbs on each path shall just be there waiting for us to hit on, or bump to, and toss up some of our dearest stuffs along the process. We just can not keep them all. And there is just no turning back against the tick-tock…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p>Live life. Love. There’s just no better way.</span></p> Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-78743328962439101042009-10-14T10:05:00.009+08:002009-10-14T16:35:27.561+08:00Never Holding Back<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKSHXqVg41CSUXlDlfIKrt-Vilgb58-H36hSQfpni8bFp1zxE_6FUuk9DLbvJeQNyIVie2n3WCFstfLmQH0hRvo7OHpqyLpH3IfDuygfovCLi8ouHDkcEYmRyVFPP8ui-3A6i-Zj0jBN5L/s1600-h/Blessings-01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKSHXqVg41CSUXlDlfIKrt-Vilgb58-H36hSQfpni8bFp1zxE_6FUuk9DLbvJeQNyIVie2n3WCFstfLmQH0hRvo7OHpqyLpH3IfDuygfovCLi8ouHDkcEYmRyVFPP8ui-3A6i-Zj0jBN5L/s320/Blessings-01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392294316808828242" border="0" /></a><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">As some people would not be aware of, a number of freedom websites (<i style="">i.e.: Youtube, Facebook, Wordpress, Blogspot, etc…</i>) are blocked here in China where I happen to be situated as an OFW - obviously in compliance to the policy of their government. Actually, and in all honesty, I don’t really have any problem with that, as I am not even privileged to question such a policy. Each country is governed by their own rules, which is expectedly to be different from the laws of where I came from. Just unluckily for me, it so happen that one of the things I am into is among those that is not in line to their thingy’s.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Modesty aside, I can only care less about the other blocked sites, for I am not much into those - except for this one. Well, common’… give me a break..! Blogging is the only sensible past time that I can ever imagine in my location, considering my situation – being literally isolated in so many ways; from my family, my native land, and even to the people here for the main reason that I can not speak their native tongue.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Of course I am not inclined to write everyday, but just with the thought that my blog site is now again accessible from where I am, of which probably had as well been waiting for updates of my ‘Pulitzer Prize bound’ <i style="">manuscripts</i>, then I can always be in good mood to use up my idle moments in a more significant way, again, like… right now.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Thus why I feel extremely happy today. A colleague has provided me of a free VPN that can unlock all the above-stated sites, and now I have the high of optimum adrenalin to do what I have always longed to do. Hopefully that the effectivity of my <i style="">towering horse</i> shall be infinite – or at least until this country would realize the true essence of full democratic sovereignty (whatever that means, because I really have to admit that I have no <span style="font-style: italic;">effin’</span> idea what would that ever mean at all, trust me), and shall just open the gates of all freedom websites.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">But nevertheless, still I’m vastly ecstatic that I can do this again. Now I can express my inner self in three stages; when I’m feeling high, or low, or both – not necessarily in that particular order. Whichever stage I am at doesn’t really matter at all, because the common denominator is – I shall be composing one of these stuffs anyway.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">So many good, and yes, not so good things happened to my surrounding for the past few months during my lull. Needless to mention of my itch to put words into any of those situations, I’ve always prayed that one day, one fine moment shall push me to write about those in another time. And so it did! Now, I’m just glad about this chance where I can carve again.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">So, I think this is it! <b style="font-style: italic;">This is really is it..!</b> I can roll and slide once again...!</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Lock and load. Ready, aim, and dock!</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;">
<br /></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-cWLNufXNAkdP0vCzxQJYLNk7Zg03oaE9802s_TqcJ4pgfmk3wQq82KzzC3DeFsKJmGnfKLTfafvq1_CC6ATnchJxSyJGQYo29rOoX_R9UO2pGUG9FyW51H1zvfn9TbWiK13i_XkzwYKw/s1600-h/IMG_0327.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-cWLNufXNAkdP0vCzxQJYLNk7Zg03oaE9802s_TqcJ4pgfmk3wQq82KzzC3DeFsKJmGnfKLTfafvq1_CC6ATnchJxSyJGQYo29rOoX_R9UO2pGUG9FyW51H1zvfn9TbWiK13i_XkzwYKw/s320/IMG_0327.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392274742778106882" border="0" /></a>
<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]-->Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-89607501953433572632009-09-16T22:13:00.012+08:002009-10-15T16:55:59.522+08:00A son-in-law’s Eulogy to a departed mother-in-law<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYW_-5wmUxiX-V99hmKFWnCJbNA2lGeUqexS9vgsjyyzZPShTwV5P7ELrWe9CABukFQmceoY9YwDpEb-S60J4ujgqpkGZ9MAyqxGjHdTmYzb-FgKfpd1x-m5AaOAwiKmMGBUADRuJWYWW/s1600-h/Together.Again.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYW_-5wmUxiX-V99hmKFWnCJbNA2lGeUqexS9vgsjyyzZPShTwV5P7ELrWe9CABukFQmceoY9YwDpEb-S60J4ujgqpkGZ9MAyqxGjHdTmYzb-FgKfpd1x-m5AaOAwiKmMGBUADRuJWYWW/s400/Together.Again.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391535536957877954" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" >
<br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Erlinda Tapec Vicente</span><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Born: 01 January 1940</span><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Died: 02 September 2009</span>
<br /></div>
<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CADMINI%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region"></o:smarttagtype></span><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} span.EmailStyle15 {mso-style-type:personal; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial; mso-ascii-font-family:Arial; mso-hansi-font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:Arial; color:windowtext; font-weight:normal; font-style:normal; text-decoration:none; text-underline:none; text-decoration:none; text-line-through:none;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" >It is inevitable that anytime like today, this letter shall be read in a different manner of celebration to your absolute freedom from physical anguish and pain. But in all honesty Mama, I can never imagine that I would be writing you one. In fact, I can not even recall a single occasion - when I have been your son-in-law for the last 15 long years, and I have never written you anything that would carry my thoughts. And the more it is painful that now I have to write you one, but you would never hear and feel my message anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p>We never had good memories that could be a theatric material, but nonetheless, and in behalf of your other sons and daughters in law, we are grateful for taking us as one of yours. We felt the belongingness with your selflessness, and we felt that you were so true and natural in every small laughters that we shared. The sincerity you have shown us was just amazingly insurmountable, and there is never a fitting word that we can respond except… <b style=""><i style="">“Thank you..!”</i></b>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p>When you were in the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">US</st1:place></st1:country-region> with Ariel, Janet and Jacob, I would call you just for nothing. Do you still remember those times, Mama? I would greet you with; <b style=""><i style="">“Mama, nangipananyo tay aklo?”</i></b> or, <b style=""><i style="">“Mama, ‘tay kalub ti patis, nakitayo?”</i></b> And we would laugh, and those times were so fun-filled. And I would call you very often; same message, same laughters, but the notch of our inner joy would just get higher each time. Who would know that you were sick?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p>Diagnosed on the recurrence of your ailment, you caught us off-guard. But you never showed any sign of retreat. You would always act as everything was fine. You opted to own the battle.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p>The last time you came from the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">US</st1:place></st1:country-region>, you would cook your <b style=""><i style="">special siopao </i></b>for us, and I would bring and sell the remainder to our office canteen. Not for the purpose to generate money, but only just to keep yourself busy, and your mind to be swayed away from your condition, that even for a moment, you could just live normally. Those days must have given you reprieve, but as everyone know, father time is finite, and will always take its toll.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p>And now you are gone, and that should mean no more <b style=""><i style="">special siopao</i></b> for us. But topping it all, you seem to be taking away with your demise the last bond to your family, and now you are going back to where every one of us shall belong.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p>With tears overflowing, sadness is what you leave us. But don’t you worry Mama, we shall hang on, and we shall be good again. Because just by accepting that you are now free from the hurting, we can only be happy to let you go. Certainly not in joy, but relieved that your suffering has eventually surrendered on you. <i style="">Inabakyo ti pannusa ni saem, ket saan na kayon to pulos a madangranen iti kaano man. </i>Your departure is indeed a victory. You are now free from all of your burdens, and you have just defeated life to this very essence.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;">Sakbay iti amin, maikadua kenni inak a ni Carolina Segundo iti Claveria, nangnangruna ka kadagiti babbai nga innak pagyamanan. Gapu ta agsipud kenka, inted mo kaniak ni Jackie, nga isu met ti naggapuan dagiti nalilibnos nga appokom nga isu ita iti mangmangted kadakami iti kired ken inspirasyon nga makidangadang kadagiti pannubok ni biag. Ket ammok nga dagiti ka-kayong ken i-ipag ko, kasta met ti makuna da kenka. Maysa ka nga nadayaw ken managparabur nga ina. </span></i></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" >And being all that said, we sincerely thank you, Mama.<i style=""><o:p></o:p></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p>Hope is a great word, but actually just a state of mind and has no meaning – simply because it has no guarantees. [ <i style="">Ti namnama ket maysa a nabileg a sarita, ngem iti kina-agpaysuanan na, daytoy ket maysa laeng nga kapanunutan – ngamin ta saan nga isu ti makaited iti kasiguruan </i>].<i style=""><span style=""> </span></i>Nonetheless, we hope against all hopes that the greatness of the life you shared us will strengthen our hearts, and keep us, your siblings, to be even closer together, and supportive to each other. That how humble we may have been through the years when you were with us, you have enriched our lives with the kind of loving and caring that you mended us – <i style="">ket dagiti naipaay yo nga ayat ken dungngo kadakami, isudanto koma ngarud ti mang-inspirar kadakami iti pangituloy mi manen nga agbiag a napnuan iti pammati.<o:p></o:p></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style=""><span style="font-family:Arial;">Inkayo ngaruden, Mama, ket ammo mi nga nasalun-at kayo itan. Awanen daydi sakit yo nga inkayo inib-ibturan iti nabayag, ket ammo mi a napigsa kayo manen. Ikuyog yo ngarud ti nasam-it nga isem yo a sumango ken <st1:place st="on">Apo</st1:place> a Namarsua, ket sapay ta naragsak kayo itan ta iti kaudianan na, agkita kayo manen ken ni Daddy. Dios ngarud ti kumuyog, </span></i></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" >as we send you all of our loving thoughts. Walk away with ease, and enjoy to the fullest your freedom that you truly deserve.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p>God bless Mama, so long… and goodbye…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p>See you next life…</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-64504354187938502562009-06-22T15:00:00.002+08:002009-10-12T16:24:22.739+08:00Ang Tatay Kong OFW<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I was surfing for local news in the net when I stumbled upon this story. It was a perfect "T" for me, since my late father was once an overseas worker, same as me now. As the story seem to be full of reflections, I could say that for me, it was a superb read. And so I thought it would be a good piece to look back again someday, thus my post.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Ang tatay kong OFW</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">LUIS IRAL GALICIA</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">06/21/2009 | 12:25 AM</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Ngayong Fathers' Day, balikan natin ang istorya ng isang amang nangibang bansa at sabik na hinintay ng kanyang anak.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Ako? 1980 ako ipinanganak. Tatlong taon bago pinatay si Ninoy Aquino at anim na taon bago ang EDSA uprising. Taon ding ito nang nagkaroon ng malaking krisis sa langis ang buong mundo. P24.00 ang palitan ng dolyar sa piso at 48 milyon na ang populasyon ng Pilipinas. Ito rin ang taong unang pumunta ng Middle East ang tatay ko para magtrabaho.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Isang karpintero ang Tatay. Isang skilled worker. Malaki ang pangangailangan ng bansang pupuntahan ni Tatay sa mga katulad niya. Sabi ng Nanay mahirap daw ang buhay noong mga panahong iyon. Inabot na raw ang bansa ng economic depression na galing sa Europa at Amerika. Kaya minabuti ng Tatay na mag-abroad. Anupa't dalawa ang pinag-aaral niya at may bago na naman siyang bibig na pakakainin.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Parating pinapaalala sa amin ng Nanay na "nagtiis kaming magkahiwalay ng tatay ninyo para magkaroon tayo ng maginhawang buhay." Palibhasa'y parehas galing sa hirap, kaya siguro ganoon na lamang ang pananaw nila. Uuwi kada dalawang taon, tapos aalis na ulit pagkalipas ng dalawang buwan. Ganyan ang pattern ng buhay ng tatay ko.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Pumutok ang giyera sa Middle East noong 1989. Doon ko unang narinig ang mga salitang Operation: Desert Storm at Third Anti-Christ. Nandoon din si Tatay. Isang beses lamang siya nakatawag sa loob ng tatlong taon niyang pagkaka-stranded sa bansang iyon. Mabuti naman daw ang lagay niya. May tirahan naman daw sila at husto sa lahat ng pangangailangan.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Hindi naman daw sila gagalawin sa giyera, sabi ng embahada ng Pilipinas, dahil hindi naman daw sila kasali sa awayan ng dalawang bansa at ng pakialamerong Amerika. Iyon naman pala eh, bakit ka pa rin nandyan?! </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Na-imagine ko na lang tuloy ang Tatay na parang isa sa mga sibilyan na dumadaan habang nakikipagbarilan ako sa larong Operation: Wolf sa SM City. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Nang mahawi ang mga usok ng giyera umuwi na ang Tatay. Wala pang isang taon ay nakita ko na naman ang aking sarili na nakasakay sa arkiladong dyip para ihatid ang Tatay sa Airport papuntang Middle East. Ikaw ba naman ang magkaroon ng pinag-aaral na nurse, isang seminarista at tatlo pa sa elementarya. Kailangang kumayod, kailangang kumita.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Kung tutuusin maraming na-miss ang Tatay sa buhay naming magkakapatid, lalo na sa akin. Wala siya nang una akong magtalumpati sa entablado. Wala din siya nang grumadweyt ako ng elementarya at hayskul. Wala siya nang una akong nakipagsuntukan sa kaklase ko nang inasar ako nito habang binibigay ko ang libreng plastic na singsing na galing sa cheese curls sa kaklase kong babae. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Wala din siya para turuan akong magbasketbol tulad ng ginagawa ng mga kapitbahay namin sa kanilang anak. Wala rin siya para panoorin si Kuya na contestant sa Student Canteen at ako naman para sabitan niya ng medalya para sa mga math competition na sinalihan ko. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Wala siya nang dumating ako sa punto ng aking buhay, na siya ring kinakatakutan ng lahat ng katulad kong nagbibinata- -ang magpatuli. Wala rin siya para turuan akong maglanggas. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Wala siya nang kauna-unahang lumabas ang pangalan ko sa dyaryong pang-estudyante bilang isang editor. Ipinagtabi ko siya ng mga kopya para maipagmalaki sa kanyang pagdating. Wala siya nang una akong tumikim ng alak dahil binasted ako ng dinidigahan kong babae. Wala rin siya nang sumubok akong manigarilyo at itapon ito pagkatapos ng dalawang hithit pa lang. Wala siya, wala siya parati.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Napansin ko na lamang na mas naiibuhos naming magkakapatid ang oras namin sa labas ng bahay at sa eskwelahan. Ang Ate ay kagawad ng Sangguniang Kabataan, ang Kuya naman ay matagal nang kinuha ng seminaryo, ang dalawa kong kapatid ay may mga sarili nang kina-career at ako naman ay natutuon sa aking pagsusulat.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Dumating ang isa sa pinakamasayang araw ng buhay ko, ang pagdating ng Tatay at sabihing ito na ang huli niyang uwi dahil hindi na siya babalik ulit sa abroad.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Makalipas ang ilang buwan, trinangkaso ang Tatay. Sabi ng doktor ay overfatigue lang daw at kailangan niyang magpahinga. Pagkaraan nang ilang buwan, na-diagnose na may tumubong tumor sa utak ng Tatay at malignant na ito. Minsan naitanong sa akin ng uncle kong doktor kung nauntog ba ang Tatay o nabagsakan ng mabigat na bagay sa ulo. Nahihiyang ngiti, kamot sa ulo at isang "hindi ko po alam" lang ang naisagot ko.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Kung gaano kabilis na nadiskubre ang tumor niya sa utak ay ganun din kabilis na binawi sa amin ng Diyos ang Tatay. Habang pinagmamasdan ko ang Tatay habang mapayapa itong nakahimlay noong burol niya, nahihirapang tumulo ang luha ko. Kung tutuusin, hindi ko kilala ang taong ito. Siya ang tatay ko. Kalahati ng pagkatao ko ay galing sa kanya. Pero kung tatanungin mo ako kung anong gusto niyang timpla ng kape, kung allergic ba siya sa hipon na paborito ko, kung San Miguel o Purefoods ba ang team niya sa PBA--isang malaking EWAN lang ang maisasagot ko sa iyo.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Noong bata pa ako, nasa abroad ang Tatay. Kapag nandito naman siya para magbakasyon, mas malaking oras ang nagugol niya sa pag-aasikaso ng mga papeles niya para sa susunod niyang pag-alis. Nang tumigil na siya sa pagtatrabaho, ako naman ang abala sa mga reports, periodical examinations at mga research works. Nang nasa ospital na siya, kahit makipagkuwentuhan ay mahirap nang gawin dahil halos hindi na siya maintindihang magsalita dulot ng chemotherapy.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Matagal nang patay ang Tatay. Minsan nabalitaan kong dumating na ang seaman na tatay ng boss ko, pilit ko siyang pinauuwi nang maaga. Minsan ding buong kawilihan kong pinagmamasdan ang isang kaibigan ko na nagmamadali dahil baka masaraduhan na siya ng grocery. Kailangan niyang makabili ng ingredients ng spaghetti dahil 'yun daw ang bilin ng tatay niyang na-stroke. Minsan rin nang makainuman ko ang matalik kong kaibigan habang binubuhos niya sa akin ang sama ng loob niya sa pagbabalik ng tatay niya na malupit sa kanila nang mahabang panahon at ipinagpalit sila sa ibang babae.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Sa tingin ko lang, "Buti ka pa nga may Tatay pa." Syempre hindi ko sinabi iyon sa kanya. Baka mamaya tanungin pa niya ako kung kanino ako kampi, kami pa ang mag-away. Minsan din sinamahan ko ang kababata ko nang dinalhan niya ng pansit ang tatay niya sa City Jail. Hindi naman sila nagtatanong kung bakit ako ganun. Wala naman silang alam kay Tatay.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Maraming pagkakataon na nanghihinayang ako dahil masyadong maaga ang paghihiwalay namin ng Tatay. Gusto kong sisihin ang Pilipinas dahil napakahirap ng buhay dito. Sa Amerika ba may tatay na nangingibang-bansa para makapagtrabaho lang? Naisip ko tuloy na sumama na lang sa mga nagpipiket na mga migrante dahil alam ko tulad ko rin sila. Kadalasan rin sinisisi ko si Saddam Hussein at ang Gulf War dahil kinuha nila ang tatlong taon sa buhay ng Tatay. Sayang ang tatlong taong iyon. Nakalaro ko man lang sana ang Tatay ng basketbol o di kaya'y naturuan niya akong mag-bike. (Beinte anyos na ko nang matuto mag-bike).</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Isa sa mga klase ko sa writing ang nagpasulat sa amin ng kahit ano tungkol sa aming mga tatay, samahan pa ng larawan kung maaari. Bigla tuloy akong nalito. Hindi ko alam kung anong tungkol sa Tatay ang isusulat ko.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Ikuwento ko kaya na isang Overseas Contract Worker si Tatay. Isang bagong bayani. Nag-aambag ng malaki sa ekonomiya ng Pilipinas. Sabihin ko kayang may larawan ng tatay kong may suot na hard hat na dilaw, construction boots at may hawak na drill at kasama niyang nakangiti ang mga kapwa niyang Pilipino with matching background na disyerto. O kaya ang larawan nilang magkakababayan habang pinagdiriwang nila ang New Year at nag-iiyakan dahil tinutugtog ang Lupang Hinirang. Ang drama no?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Kuwento ko kaya na isang survivor ng Gulf War ang Tatay. Na natutulog siya at ipinaghehele ng mga Patriot at Scud Missiles. Pakita ko kaya ang mga remembrance ng Tatay na mga dull na landmines. Adventure naman ang dating nito.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Kuwento ko kaya kung paano hindi nagpabaya ang Tatay sa pagbibigay ng pangangailangan namin. Hindi kami sumasala sa pagkain, may magagandang damit, maayos na tirahan at nakakapag-aral. Siya ay naging isang good provider. Siguro isang malalim na buntong hiningang "Haaaaaay!" ang ibibigay sa akin ng mga kaklase ko.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">O di kaya'y dalhin ko ang picture ni Tatay habang kini-chemotherapy siya. Ikwento ko din kaya na naging mabilis ang lahat ng mga pangyayari. Na inoperahan siya sa loob ng walong oras at binutasan ang ulo niya. Na nakalabas pa siya ng ospital. Pagkatapos ng isang linggo, agad siyang namatay. Tragic naman ang approach ko nito.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Gayahin ko kaya ang kuwento sa telebisyon na tipong galit na galit sa mundo ang anak dahil hindi ito nabigyan ng sapat na atensyon dahil inuna ng kanilang tatay ang pinansyal nilang pangangailangan. Teka, hindi naman totoo yon eh! Napaka-unfair naman 'nun kay Tatay.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Ikuwento ko na lang kaya ang isa sa mga magagandang alaala namin kay Tatay. Apat na taon ako noon. Malinaw na malinaw pa sa alaala ko ang pangyayari. Kadarating lamang ng Tatay pagkaraan ng dalawang taon. Nagkaroon ng simpleng party sa bahay. Kainuman niya ang mga kumpare niya nang tumayo siya at binuhat ako mula sa kuna ko habang pinaglalaruan ko ang bagong matchbox na pasalubong niya sa akin. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Inutusan niya ako na ikuha siya ng beer sa refrigerator. Pagkakuha ko ng beer ay kinandong niya ako at buong pagmamalaki na ibinida sa mga kumpare niya na natanggap na raw ako sa lokal na Day Care Center dahil abot na ng kanang kamay ko ang aking kaliwang tenga kahit idaan pa sa ibabaw ng ulo ko at matatas na ako magsalita at madali raw akong matuto. Matagal din akong nanatili sa pagkakandong niya. Mistula siyang bagong dating na hari na suot-suot ang kanyang korona. Ako ang kanyang korona.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Kapag naaalala ko ito, napapawi ang lahat ng panghihinayang ko sa mga taong kailangan niyang magtrabaho at mawala sa piling namin. Mga panahong kasama ng mga tatay ang mga anak nila. Ito na lang ang isusulat ko. Bago ang lahat, pupunasahan ko muna ang mga luha ko at ang patulo ko ng sipon. Baka mapatakan pa ang keyboard ng computer at ang hawak kong picture. Picture ng isang paslit na may hawak na bote ng beer habang kandong ng tatay na kitang-kita ang kasiyahan sa mukha.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">(Unang nalathala ang artikulong ito na isinulat ni Luis Galicia sa “Aninag" ng Trinity of Asia’s Literary Magazine noong 2002 gamit ang kanyang pen name na Estong Kawili III. Taong 2007 naman nang malathala ang parehong artikulo sa Pinoy Abroad at angkinin ang kuwento ng isang nagpakilalang Elezer Balde. Nagpapasalamat kami sa pang-unawa ni G. Galicia.) - GMANews.TV</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Link: http://www.gmanews.tv/story/165443/Ang-tatay-kong-OFW</span>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-78390785740729499442009-04-26T11:43:00.018+08:002009-04-27T13:34:53.465+08:00Just Cooking The Rice That I Have<a style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgHhYafIceTVw2lZ-pq4mlTEnt5ClI3Pd6gcwAftF7lKqt6p0Byh2fVkbviUtmcZON8_UhCU56B2ng4TVMbp6jSCDG3yaQHKzQOElkl3Urn7GLkJFyocHZGZvAkkApdGxZmuy1ftzCq-R/s1600-h/DSC00597.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgHhYafIceTVw2lZ-pq4mlTEnt5ClI3Pd6gcwAftF7lKqt6p0Byh2fVkbviUtmcZON8_UhCU56B2ng4TVMbp6jSCDG3yaQHKzQOElkl3Urn7GLkJFyocHZGZvAkkApdGxZmuy1ftzCq-R/s320/DSC00597.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328843745325881074" border="0" /></a><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Birthday celebrations are occasions that anyone would expect to be fun in any form. Red should be the color of the day. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Some would even plan way ahead for a grand one. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Griefs must take the back seat, or have no place at all.
<br />
<br />But I can only settle for the humblest way to celebrate – with the thought that… “Hey, it will pass through naturally anyway”. Or maybe I can try to con myself that it is just like another one of those ordinary days.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">
<br />
<br />Without so much ado, yes, today is my birthday. My 41st to be exact. Have I be home where I belong, I should have lots of great things in mind. But the "fracture" of seclusion is my resolve to unwillingly confine myself just with me. I think I have no other choice but to celebrate it the way it has to be - in solidarity. But why, there is no better way anyway. It is just a matter of attitude now how I should drive my mood. I think I just have to choose to just be happy today.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">
<br />
<br />So as I planned to get moving, I thought that I should rather be writing on my blog once again. Why not? To the place where I am, I don't have my family to kiss me as I would wake up this morning. No bosom buddies to call in to bang some beers. No folks to have a nice lunch or dinner with. Even if I try and push my luck to go out, I can't flag a taxi by my own. First, I don't know where I should go. And more seriously, I can not communicate by the native tongue of this foreign land. And worse of all, a taxi driver that can speak English is as remote as my chances in the lottery. This is one dilemma that I always had, but not life threatening though. That's why I don't think so seriously about it.</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">I guess for this kind of isolated occasion, I can only submit that I trapped myself by my own dedication - being away from home for the opportunity to provide my family a better life. It is always within my utmost prayers that my small sacrifice would result to what we have always prayed and dreamed of. That is why I am not even entitled to feel sad or miserable about being alone today, because I have to cogitate that I am away for a mission. Such a nostalgic day doesn't happen 365 times in a year. It just have to happen as foreseen.
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<br /></span><a style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnIrCL5kIbUiqn9NW2kih1h9QDRPiwqA1GWe5f5dJzbrxWOCD0b4TuyZMprkCzDOraiB8cjvXIYkFG5Dpd9UK63VZipXUVfzuwXiAMdWndpedfvZAbDlGzdvtY-kzKc9ZBOJrW5Rk7qXy/s1600-h/I.Me.Mine.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnIrCL5kIbUiqn9NW2kih1h9QDRPiwqA1GWe5f5dJzbrxWOCD0b4TuyZMprkCzDOraiB8cjvXIYkFG5Dpd9UK63VZipXUVfzuwXiAMdWndpedfvZAbDlGzdvtY-kzKc9ZBOJrW5Rk7qXy/s320/I.Me.Mine.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328843748063605986" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">But I am </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">as well thankful of this chance that </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">I'm all alone celebrating today. Now I can practically self check and reflect and meditate and mull what should I be motivated about for being away - just by myself. I would like to listen what my heart would say, and if there is a need to doubt my decisions, or wisdom in life. And that maybe before this day is over, I could grab a beer and greet myself a self-effacing birthday. And I hope that I would be just grateful to welcome it.</span>
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<br />Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-62187849422106114782009-04-24T16:08:00.030+08:002009-10-12T16:12:53.427+08:00That Wonderful Family Adventure<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It's been a year since Jia, our youngest daughter, had continuously chanted about Hong Kong Disneyland. Just barely 3 years old then, we would not know where she heard about it. And as any set of parents would respond to their young children's dreams, despite to the fact that her whim was too way off our financial capability, I doubt if anyone dare say "no". And because she would not stop, Jackie and I would say, "Very soon, baby. Before you knew it, we're already there...". And that's how it all began.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >17th of April 2009, coming from China where I am presently employed, I proceeded to Hong Kong airport to fetch them four. Yes, it's been two and a half months since I saw them, and I can't be more excited than to be with them once again. On my way, I am playing beautiful scenarios in my mind; how tight would I be caressing each one of them, and I can only feel that they shall also be vividly happy to see me too. I know they missed me so much as well, I can feel it every time we talk on the phone. I miss the wits of my kids, and God I miss my wife too.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbVbPsZY1Ryhwb9r1F0IJ7gtVk7Em7oZdcECcWvXfakQloiHJFIMk9Yi3B4hVqxgxoqT7EF0AY-a0UAUO-fWBbIg1tVPEFJZ8_7z3q2T37rdO7jdj87ZuoIIJUL0UVzHw0UKsTCOpYZcw/s1600-h/01+Arrived.At.HK.Airport.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 209px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbVbPsZY1Ryhwb9r1F0IJ7gtVk7Em7oZdcECcWvXfakQloiHJFIMk9Yi3B4hVqxgxoqT7EF0AY-a0UAUO-fWBbIg1tVPEFJZ8_7z3q2T37rdO7jdj87ZuoIIJUL0UVzHw0UKsTCOpYZcw/s320/01+Arrived.At.HK.Airport.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328180275254369554" border="0" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >It's the first ever overseas trip of my jewels. They must be having a lot of 'first times', and mixed emotions must be haunting them all along. I can't wait to hear their stories already. I can't wait to see their excitement. And so 9:30 PM, they arrived. How great was the feeling. I was in trance! I was so speechless that I wish I could freeze the moment.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >Our first night was full of stories. My lips are all over their faces. My arms all over their frames. I hope the world would stop for a while. I hope the moment never ends.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqfhDuexRr3RqCuwekC96rtsRDAQxSCovGVcpB9mqZ72GkNxdMpW6dECqZAw30dpY0539zQv1qDF0WgxzVLBRHbJq_QeSXZ4_3me5BPlHUN9xV0gYCKPamwNEN_NWFaNwj3ZikDbXrMG6I/s1600-h/02+At.The.Peak.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqfhDuexRr3RqCuwekC96rtsRDAQxSCovGVcpB9mqZ72GkNxdMpW6dECqZAw30dpY0539zQv1qDF0WgxzVLBRHbJq_QeSXZ4_3me5BPlHUN9xV0gYCKPamwNEN_NWFaNwj3ZikDbXrMG6I/s320/02+At.The.Peak.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328180270796957826" border="0" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >Quite tired from the unending stories of their first flight experience, we woke up at 8:00AM. The weather wasn't so good for walking. It was hazy and raining. But nothing can spoil our togetherness. We went out after an hour to grab some food. Each one tried on their chopsticks. Janina was doing well, but not Yohan, or Jia. Jackie tried her luck too, but the grip wasn't so good. Every minute was laughters. How nice to see them ever happy.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSZzVw5oyHOk1G_qAzmhMFsXP-tjkmjT5s1u0tfNVEVF1gliJZMVzDBAjCqOK2RxTEreAOSjiFeSo8-7jbf9iEziw0bbov4bzARt5-S-mPYm-1TFs4adpd7SwjNfPt2eJ7mBCbx36T-D9/s1600-h/03+First.Subway.Train.Ride.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSZzVw5oyHOk1G_qAzmhMFsXP-tjkmjT5s1u0tfNVEVF1gliJZMVzDBAjCqOK2RxTEreAOSjiFeSo8-7jbf9iEziw0bbov4bzARt5-S-mPYm-1TFs4adpd7SwjNfPt2eJ7mBCbx36T-D9/s320/03+First.Subway.Train.Ride.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328180269556958370" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >Them being new with the place, and with the hampering<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Georgia;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" > weather upfront, I decided that we buy our tickets for the next day's trip to the Magic Kingdom. And so we proceeded to the World Wide building in Central. Enticingly, I wasn't aware that it would also be their first time on a subway train. So every move has a touch of a surprise. I knew we're up for lots of fun.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >They were amazed to see a lot of Filipinos in Central. I have to tell them that the place is indeed the rendezvous of our countrymen in Hong Kong. And that it is also where I deposit the greater chunk of my salary to my local bank account in Philippines. They felt so at-home in the building. I can see that little by little, they were adjusting. That the feel of Hong Kong is slowly sinking in on them. But the more they were awed when my s<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">uki</span> for lunch mentioned my name. I ordered <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">sinigang</span> and pork barbecue. Jackie and Jia munched a bit. But the other two, their eyes were just so busy looking around, somehow trying to look for local folks. All smiles still.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >Then we went to The Peak. It was a high altitude place where we could have a bird's eye view of the city. We could have tried to check on the binoculars but it was just too hazy and all fogs. So we shopped for some souvenirs and other <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">pasalubong</span> instead. And my girls enjoyed every moment. And I can only sigh in beam. I can never get tired looking at them. I wish I could keep them happy forever. We went back to the hotel until it was dark. We wrapped up their 'first day' in the city.<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" > </span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOQKvy7AJRD7VBzDNRVEVE5b28WliwB8ADSIkKGUu9RJKPqIFTdOL6GHLVTP8O4HiaUkZVHuvPJOQNlfXzzJFkE0yEGzSSEeSGbpF2bKfmBDBNjAX7_9811J_TTM_14YX464IZS6MlL10Z/s1600-h/04+Aboard.MK%27s.Train.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOQKvy7AJRD7VBzDNRVEVE5b28WliwB8ADSIkKGUu9RJKPqIFTdOL6GHLVTP8O4HiaUkZVHuvPJOQNlfXzzJFkE0yEGzSSEeSGbpF2bKfmBDBNjAX7_9811J_TTM_14YX464IZS6MlL10Z/s320/04+Aboard.MK%27s.Train.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328180262874687074" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >We started the next day with more excitement. We are bound to the 'core' of the trip. We are going to the Magic Kingdom! The very drive of Jia, the fulfillment of her dream! Her two sisters could only thank her. They claim that if it wasn't with her, maybe they won't have a chance to see the place too.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUAu4dnCFEUz6MRhRkFa4np6nAsXco2MJ1JBEyj6q9hQ5Y_rgHz_04loZbvfFosOLWaV0D5OtLlhyaWrpvnW5OD5d808TELMuUeLcXw0Qhyph_yHSIcMVZxEkOZoJQSw8gC4x7zoHIFuYj/s1600-h/05+Facade.HK.Disneyland.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUAu4dnCFEUz6MRhRkFa4np6nAsXco2MJ1JBEyj6q9hQ5Y_rgHz_04loZbvfFosOLWaV0D5OtLlhyaWrpvnW5OD5d808TELMuUeLcXw0Qhyph_yHSIcMVZxEkOZoJQSw8gC4x7zoHIFuYj/s320/05+Facade.HK.Disneyland.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328180265611073250" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >From the very second we set foot at the facade, our angels were all stomping, running in joy, as if it was heaven. In joy, I can't help but cry deep inside. Jackie too. We can no longer contain the happy feelings of our gems. We held hands so tightly, and we kissed. Not a single word. We just smiled at each other...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rANPgXhvCXGiEES5E78s3DadlbslSmeUVH2MC5ww53sH_eY3x79W3vRpufzZUUMGvyX0_OdUelZelquDn3TL3JuFNTTE511P5WGeNWdD_V-x_D_3ceKFBB0VeSowzzJS0YRtLZWLqU6v/s1600-h/06+I.Love.%27Em.Kids.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rANPgXhvCXGiEES5E78s3DadlbslSmeUVH2MC5ww53sH_eY3x79W3vRpufzZUUMGvyX0_OdUelZelquDn3TL3JuFNTTE511P5WGeNWdD_V-x_D_3ceKFBB0VeSowzzJS0YRtLZWLqU6v/s320/06+I.Love.%27Em.Kids.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328180002140026514" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >We arrived at Disneyland at about noon time. And immediately, it was all photo sessions in every corner, clicks here and there. The girls can't be tamed anymore. Their adrenaline was just so overwhelming.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-DcFe0IaOIgIsI7bf1vZ-d68Fs5J2D1Wj6JqA-Fbge-Lero6nb_rCxKZvOwAlWPDX7zozfQb6R4_Rfy3JfiknNO3QH2_csboi8W9CdPcfdwoRmiPFms8719XpPPS_ih1qf_JhoGl4ZTe/s1600-h/07+Awesome.Mickey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-DcFe0IaOIgIsI7bf1vZ-d68Fs5J2D1Wj6JqA-Fbge-Lero6nb_rCxKZvOwAlWPDX7zozfQb6R4_Rfy3JfiknNO3QH2_csboi8W9CdPcfdwoRmiPFms8719XpPPS_ih1qf_JhoGl4ZTe/s320/07+Awesome.Mickey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179996943023170" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >They were so amused of the sceneries. It's not that they weren't used to see beautiful places because we always bring them out every chance that we have. But it was just so different that day. Their excitement has just started.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX51RF0Tu9tRlP1P5jE_Gp3QUrQBmop_gIL8j2Cr5QkPyeDtsi2GCNV-2NE_PqpCVzlPzXwnLMOK-O_Tt8nON3Byrhdkid9WcjQHyFQo-zNQWel6LEowJFaok0YLlKDP_MfNd4q3KRbBPW/s1600-h/08+Jia%27s.Dream.At.Last.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX51RF0Tu9tRlP1P5jE_Gp3QUrQBmop_gIL8j2Cr5QkPyeDtsi2GCNV-2NE_PqpCVzlPzXwnLMOK-O_Tt8nON3Byrhdkid9WcjQHyFQo-zNQWel6LEowJFaok0YLlKDP_MfNd4q3KRbBPW/s320/08+Jia%27s.Dream.At.Last.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179997164726034" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >Jia rushed so fast upon seeing the main attraction of the place. It was like Mickey and Minnie had been waiting for us for so long. Unfathomable joy was flashing all over our kids' faces. But we were just starting.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" > </span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWI43Eh_aY9Fx2Nimvk44U3w19zhdEW_XJL9zO4AS60Z0Zq1yBlOOLyW6hZIaK5yKDSqY9ProiXA1goH9Jrw5Y3gyHxt-Ie2aobLEf60LPM83q9jo9w80QSGy3C6sD7PSR2P9Q1sbQeoLk/s1600-h/09+Wacky.With.Goofy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWI43Eh_aY9Fx2Nimvk44U3w19zhdEW_XJL9zO4AS60Z0Zq1yBlOOLyW6hZIaK5yKDSqY9ProiXA1goH9Jrw5Y3gyHxt-Ie2aobLEf60LPM83q9jo9w80QSGy3C6sD7PSR2P9Q1sbQeoLk/s320/09+Wacky.With.Goofy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179993396484418" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >Suddenly we became so tireless. Long walks did not even stress our exhausted legs. The place was so big and wide. And entertainments are in every corner.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGxw09EEooJk7GDhsMDZt10ezeUR_FhBv271CHZ5wd8Nrqz8T2PkLfOv_gc_a18CuAOfZiJZ9PUN8Tpzax7I7NAFYiLHPDxOXlCAp9b02di2do6d1ZR4F-YiXVr2E60m0wtv6bWLi8JD4Q/s1600-h/10+Tired.Pose.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGxw09EEooJk7GDhsMDZt10ezeUR_FhBv271CHZ5wd8Nrqz8T2PkLfOv_gc_a18CuAOfZiJZ9PUN8Tpzax7I7NAFYiLHPDxOXlCAp9b02di2do6d1ZR4F-YiXVr2E60m0wtv6bWLi8JD4Q/s320/10+Tired.Pose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179993746034130" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >We maximized the experience. We won't miss a single ride or amenity. Jia would always pull us to another place. We never stopped moving.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOHRCxrw2Mh5r9MtjWaT5IyR4V7WBiaf8lMVdGkgUhPi-j8kaQITkWs7u-La4sDQQOGGK1W7QmIIBkMOme5dZ1BBNFU7qUHbQcfcR2sQSQMpwskmtCVGJ4euGuO_diy0pF6T3l9Up9FOj/s1600-h/11+Freshening.Up.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOHRCxrw2Mh5r9MtjWaT5IyR4V7WBiaf8lMVdGkgUhPi-j8kaQITkWs7u-La4sDQQOGGK1W7QmIIBkMOme5dZ1BBNFU7qUHbQcfcR2sQSQMpwskmtCVGJ4euGuO_diy0pF6T3l9Up9FOj/s320/11+Freshening.Up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179583352307346" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >But their young anatomies can only bear so much. We stopped for a while. Some ice cream had to quench our frazzled limbs. It was great to feel the city breeze too.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ4dTKfpDUEFIREOqSiG_MgiDxiedlaSDDTF6DTDu6cHXSoi3mLVzX-LyBiSoU-8cAb4QO9KFwbEH8yABrywrEOQMnkonWusYCsRiOM_M_UH-NcYWgzQsrDZ3_7sdHRnVlsLoObZTBHm3E/s1600-h/12+Going.3D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ4dTKfpDUEFIREOqSiG_MgiDxiedlaSDDTF6DTDu6cHXSoi3mLVzX-LyBiSoU-8cAb4QO9KFwbEH8yABrywrEOQMnkonWusYCsRiOM_M_UH-NcYWgzQsrDZ3_7sdHRnVlsLoObZTBHm3E/s320/12+Going.3D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179576866632226" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >After a brief pause, we went on to enjoy some more shows. The 3D-movie was a blast to the kids. They would extend their arms to the air to catch the spur. They wanted to join the fun in the screen. They were dazzled with the effects. They would clap for every bang! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8evP-qMuS7c1pAVP7lq1OQqqinLIEqG3M5OPYfeCJinRA7I6atR8APM0itYlDeyRdMrgCNfcgn1BIUT-dEAJJFq0oW7AQISndeT9aE0lnGTBKKxlRSNzwFCUAiENTZOZi2pb6ftQuIoc/s1600-h/13+Awaiting.MK.Fireworks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8evP-qMuS7c1pAVP7lq1OQqqinLIEqG3M5OPYfeCJinRA7I6atR8APM0itYlDeyRdMrgCNfcgn1BIUT-dEAJJFq0oW7AQISndeT9aE0lnGTBKKxlRSNzwFCUAiENTZOZi2pb6ftQuIoc/s320/13+Awaiting.MK.Fireworks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179579329282450" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >Time flew so fast, and then it was dark. 15-minutes before the fireworks at 8:00PM, we positioned ourselves to the front of the Magic Kingdom castle. It was worth the wait. The 11-minute pyrotechnic display was more than what we expected. The kids had straight faces. They can't blink. They can't turn their sights away from the sky.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU1NIF7sFnrQDX6YtBG8ufcpf0bddWMFvvWTcIdaNp3Znc1lTU4Wwqkcm5ZAhiD3LrxYvUUyieQAuHQAqXEbWkf5N8zWZtaJ7i9f7s3h368d-RleOCCsvA9td5_-_W1bfNixsEaXRNtO2S/s1600-h/14+Bye.Mickey.Bye.MK.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU1NIF7sFnrQDX6YtBG8ufcpf0bddWMFvvWTcIdaNp3Znc1lTU4Wwqkcm5ZAhiD3LrxYvUUyieQAuHQAqXEbWkf5N8zWZtaJ7i9f7s3h368d-RleOCCsvA9td5_-_W1bfNixsEaXRNtO2S/s320/14+Bye.Mickey.Bye.MK.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179568080146434" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >And then it was time to go. The Disneyland adventure for the day may have ended, but their happy faces were still intact. Jia can not let go easily. "Just one more photo with Mickey Mouse", she would say.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf7HwrsHACt7yA3YV9rTGtEVKkL1UTtG8BWfxoJ9QZOMmYtdSWgw-CLBH3hB4fndWhUe5kT22yqULNpGHzx4idbUffV4zbzZvRZg75RZ6eECkaf7HbfnTeMA-bocPMWj7eh89-_yqmAe_S/s1600-h/15+Bye.HK.Disneyland.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf7HwrsHACt7yA3YV9rTGtEVKkL1UTtG8BWfxoJ9QZOMmYtdSWgw-CLBH3hB4fndWhUe5kT22yqULNpGHzx4idbUffV4zbzZvRZg75RZ6eECkaf7HbfnTeMA-bocPMWj7eh89-_yqmAe_S/s320/15+Bye.HK.Disneyland.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179568868552386" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >Leaving the place they have dreamed of going for the longest time was never easy. It was good they have bought some souvenirs. That when they go back home, they could physically get hold of something that would remind them on the realization of their fantasy. And so as we walked away, they whispered "Bye Mickey...". But they can't help but to turn around for a last look. Just another "Bye...", they uttered.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUDUauF696dkxWkJ6Mcv5lTVh4m3ghF1lg6YE5R4NVBwH-Q1CHOgTEM9qD7je2Zzi0MYSx-X_eqr-D8F1ocZ8Did9EgbqKpc4OhoOKTbYunGOLBBhf3Gdx81WD8Yk-3Jl8yzsZcPT7f_0X/s1600-h/16+Last.Minute.Shopping.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUDUauF696dkxWkJ6Mcv5lTVh4m3ghF1lg6YE5R4NVBwH-Q1CHOgTEM9qD7je2Zzi0MYSx-X_eqr-D8F1ocZ8Did9EgbqKpc4OhoOKTbYunGOLBBhf3Gdx81WD8Yk-3Jl8yzsZcPT7f_0X/s320/16+Last.Minute.Shopping.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179334179376258" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >20th of April, it was their return date back home. A little last minute shopping for gifts to friends, and a few more walks around Tsim Sha Tsui. A farewell city tour so to speak, just adding up some more count to their extraordinary experience. Some more memories to remember that for sure they won't ever forget.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLSVkBE9kU0XOnYcWwXZVlOzYboW9pSf9qFKvOwcmYL2lBBUVCwFwh2fjNcQ0856oOh6bsd8P50P786H-Uk3nRFmbND_riWvbSKqqxK1PaydpxSFJJtqeWzVK8ITOzWKZXVgEI09y18hB/s1600-h/17+To.Che.%5BThank.You%5D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLSVkBE9kU0XOnYcWwXZVlOzYboW9pSf9qFKvOwcmYL2lBBUVCwFwh2fjNcQ0856oOh6bsd8P50P786H-Uk3nRFmbND_riWvbSKqqxK1PaydpxSFJJtqeWzVK8ITOzWKZXVgEI09y18hB/s320/17+To.Che.%5BThank.You%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179333174754994" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >There was this huge replica of a hand gesture of thanks that we saw along Nathan Road, and we posed for our last photo with the kids. It was nearby the bus station to the airport. They were still having happy faces, while the thought of them leaving me has by that time started to kick in. I'm already beginning to feel sad, but it wasn't right to show them at all.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-WjA8lIkKTYpxW9760Ni9ae5CTANb0wbrLg0lUegKBqnwa84JAtsk0UTgtpqlcAuPsJ6NZ0SZUJhyFAKg1YLLAv09FsR9MvzxnmrZwmjlnhIEAZRMe_KlqGEYMV0hjoVEeOt4orSGGqf/s1600-h/18+%27Bye.My.Angels.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-WjA8lIkKTYpxW9760Ni9ae5CTANb0wbrLg0lUegKBqnwa84JAtsk0UTgtpqlcAuPsJ6NZ0SZUJhyFAKg1YLLAv09FsR9MvzxnmrZwmjlnhIEAZRMe_KlqGEYMV0hjoVEeOt4orSGGqf/s320/18+%27Bye.My.Angels.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179329192403298" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >At 2:30PM I sent them to the airport. My heart got heavier every second, but it's just the way it has to be. As the song goes, '<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">some good things never last</span>'. But songs have endings. For us, life is an unending process until we choose not live <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">life</span> anymore. That's just too far from my mind now. I guess we have just began.<br /><br />I was always used of them sending me off to the airport in most of my trips since ages. But when it was my turn, I came to understand how if feels to be left behind - much alone. As they proceeded to the immigration, a dry tear wants to drop. I waved them goodbye, and never looked back.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32TCLPjKKFyYvO99IwHk7ihd3rgUcyxKzUU4GLkBlFsh4nZjfvGVGWuUN-vw8TqQgq-Em4yz_msoxVy5bdggjXUG98TY1oOFssackvN36785jKihFRuxyztXCil41uFwMuo-VEAAp2N3C/s1600-h/19+Angels.In.The.Sky.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32TCLPjKKFyYvO99IwHk7ihd3rgUcyxKzUU4GLkBlFsh4nZjfvGVGWuUN-vw8TqQgq-Em4yz_msoxVy5bdggjXUG98TY1oOFssackvN36785jKihFRuxyztXCil41uFwMuo-VEAAp2N3C/s320/19+Angels.In.The.Sky.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179327544502418" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >On my way back to China, I can only hope that I made a difference to their outlooks. I hope that me and my wife had really granted their simple wish to its truest essence. I can feel that they are still exchanging stories while flying up in the sky. God I miss them already, I wish I can be with them again very soon...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7drYVG6KTdKV_pEfZrApcYCLRXc6svQLhBWIiHy3JYsXBbZf9sFuvVneUjjtp_yR51FJ6-N6Ewvqjwo8Spe5Q0xjpUtFCnrg6oDQKTt80SzsEqT_jMHvT0qOav7jlshPg1ZfK1Zav4HF0/s1600-h/20+Lifetime.Memory.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7drYVG6KTdKV_pEfZrApcYCLRXc6svQLhBWIiHy3JYsXBbZf9sFuvVneUjjtp_yR51FJ6-N6Ewvqjwo8Spe5Q0xjpUtFCnrg6oDQKTt80SzsEqT_jMHvT0qOav7jlshPg1ZfK1Zav4HF0/s320/20+Lifetime.Memory.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328179324400537186" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >Now, as I am all alone in my room again, I can only manage to look at the ceiling. I can not hear my girls' laughters anymore, but I still can see their images - all smiling, flashing me with their happy faces, playing around like nuts. I can still feel their warm and tight embraces, I can still feel their pressing lips to my cheeks. And yes, that lip-lock with my most beloved was just so delighting. The quiver inspired me to keep on 'dreaming' for my most precious gems... my family.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" >My huge thanks to God for another blessing that He has given us. Indeed, it was a wonderful family adventure that we surely will cherish for a very very long time.</span></div></div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-71964923056046216882009-03-31T14:02:00.013+08:002009-04-14T10:53:49.347+08:00Wanted: PARENTS<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwRjgM30Kq9K0aFzNc11l6sxK3fBFTPpsShfi9ev1xUCiK29DA6OeYOIpyxBwdlpVcDWJ9KAywWjECGuqkFMxz8O9T3GZrIEsaEYte55xFEGvcW5cSTph-LrqzW_6C0u3cKNSCGCTNFGUt/s1600-h/My.Queen.And.My.Angels.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwRjgM30Kq9K0aFzNc11l6sxK3fBFTPpsShfi9ev1xUCiK29DA6OeYOIpyxBwdlpVcDWJ9KAywWjECGuqkFMxz8O9T3GZrIEsaEYte55xFEGvcW5cSTph-LrqzW_6C0u3cKNSCGCTNFGUt/s320/My.Queen.And.My.Angels.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319240665832998754" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Another good read that I bumped upon while surfing is the best presentation on the search of a "parent". If it had been advertised this way, I don't believe any of my league would have applied for the most thankless "job" as described.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" ><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);">POSITION :</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >Mom, Mommy, Mama, Ma</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >Dad, Daddy, Dada, Pa, Pop</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >JOB DESCRIPTION :</span><br /><ul style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"><li>Long term, team players needed, for challenging, permanent work in an often chaotic environment.</li><li>Candidates must possess excellent communication and organizational skills and be willing to work variable hours, which will include evenings and weekends and frequent 24 hour shifts on call.</li><li>Some overnight travel required, including trips to primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and endless sports tournaments in far away cities!</li><li>Travel expenses not reimbursed.</li><li>Extensive courier duties also required.</li></ul><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >RESPONSIBILITIES :</span><br /><ul style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"><li>The rest of your life.</li><li>Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily, until someone needs money.</li><li>Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly.</li><li>Also, must possess the physical stamina of a pack mule and be able to go from zero to 100 kph in three seconds flat in case, this time, the screams from the backyard are not someone just crying wolf.</li><li>Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges, such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets and stuck zippers.</li><li>Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and coordinate production of multiple homework projects.</li><li>Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings for clients of all ages and mental outlooks.</li><li>Must be a willing to be indispensable one minute, an embarrassment the next.</li><li>Must handle assembly and product safety testing of a half million cheap, plastic toys, and battery operated devices.</li><li>Must always hope for the best but be prepared for the worst.</li><li>Must assume final, complete accountability for the quality of the end product.</li><li>Responsibilities also include floor maintenance and janitorial work throughout the facility.</li></ul><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >POSSIBILITY FOR ADVANCEMENT & PROMOTION :</span><ul style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"><li>None.</li><li>Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills, so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you</li></ul><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE :</span><ul style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"><li>None required unfortunately.</li><li>On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.</li></ul><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >WAGES AND COMPENSATION :</span><ul style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"><li>Get this! You pay them!</li><li>Offering frequent raises and bonuses.</li><li>A balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because of the assumption that college will help them become financially independent.</li><li>When you die, you give them whatever is left.</li><li>The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that you actually enjoy it and wish you could only do more.</li></ul><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >BENEFITS :</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >While no health or dental insurance, no pension, no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and no stock options are offered; this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth, unconditional love, and free hugs and kisses for life if you play your cards right.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >** AND A FOOTNOTE: THERE IS NO RETIREMENT -- EVER!!! **</span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPei89Qdz0iNB1lOGLN1p4ktxfWwo9TWqHNpdpKAEGAy42S3D-ykgFmdNb-xs7eSlD7UNc3IYWyPo3y504ri_zHGYkPMBgtczbkLvT3rcRoESl_n-CQIvPzMrJ0QSfAM6J6NmxvCM6Gp-P/s1600-h/My.Well.Baked.Angels.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPei89Qdz0iNB1lOGLN1p4ktxfWwo9TWqHNpdpKAEGAy42S3D-ykgFmdNb-xs7eSlD7UNc3IYWyPo3y504ri_zHGYkPMBgtczbkLvT3rcRoESl_n-CQIvPzMrJ0QSfAM6J6NmxvCM6Gp-P/s320/My.Well.Baked.Angels.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319240555424743666" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">The above details could be a little head shaking. But then again, with the kind of family that I have, much with my wife as my lifetime partner, scrolling on the details of the requirements and expectations to get the job can easily be confirmed as either "done", or "in process".</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"> Living with the fact that I have a good partner raising our family, being inspired would top the hardships and obstacles, if we even have to look back at the challenges of parenting that way.<br /><br />And how can I be so blind and hypocrite not to appreciate how my very own mother </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">raised me</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">? There may not be applicable parenting methods as to how Mommy had reared me when I was young, and I submit that I have to adjust according to the prevailing flow now. But the basic laws and principles must still be the same. So reference wise, I was not zero-based at all.<br /><br />Of course there may never be perfect parents in the sense that they can not evaluate their own performance and give themselves a good grade. That would be playing bias. (But if that may give some their breather, well, heck why not?). They can only rate their parenting when they can at least get a sounding night sleep - because the failure or success of each child can not even be entirely defined as the reflection of parenting as more external factors would be contributory to what their children shall become. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Between trust and confidence, the former should be the product of good guidance, while the latter manifests an applied one. It is crystal clear that being a parent is but a role which is entirely different from the person, <span style="font-style: italic;">i.e.: "Let's talk man to man, not father to son."</span>. There are situations which are best dealt being a parent, or would work better the other way.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">But just by the fact that you have a great parenting reference would boost your confidence to rear the correct way. And then it is easier to at least foresee things with a brighter perspective.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlb8HCrO03xA-XqvRw5fM4pAZpozYMwXh1oKSBhGCNbMliyLaIbhZt19uwP_zXdwoDAFvS-PYWytQPkuo9eIsFrE65xvgpwLaDTNrWp75mX5E0sWVwrAhGJw8s29ehKFgPS3JCsD6V4yqy/s1600-h/My.Queen.And.My.Matriarch.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlb8HCrO03xA-XqvRw5fM4pAZpozYMwXh1oKSBhGCNbMliyLaIbhZt19uwP_zXdwoDAFvS-PYWytQPkuo9eIsFrE65xvgpwLaDTNrWp75mX5E0sWVwrAhGJw8s29ehKFgPS3JCsD6V4yqy/s320/My.Queen.And.My.Matriarch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319240323344624818" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">To my wife, all I can say is: "Thank you for standing by your spoiled brat hubby. Rest assured, I may be as what I am, but I have no any plan to be a fa</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">ilure in our journey</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">."<br /><br />To my Mom: "I thank you for being happy of what I am. It is you who made me take upon life a lot easier. I shall always be grateful, Ma. I love you."</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">And to our three well baked angels: "You are our strength. Keep inspiring us..!"</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" ></span>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-52608065676472910022009-03-27T13:45:00.008+08:002009-04-12T21:29:23.907+08:00Being an OFW: Is It Indeed Heroic?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasMnxUs5a3zMcVj_TXir4Mufbtj9CpZFGvCRsqbyhpSoG7rEPXwqzhiV62BDPjr4AvJjvOpnGTubnjHuUTRT6aSo3fY72ZS2HWH3OasnoxBYO34XFB9kLTUHvmEbkOQ0oytaxXuZoPXnI/s1600-h/Ren.Min.Bi.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasMnxUs5a3zMcVj_TXir4Mufbtj9CpZFGvCRsqbyhpSoG7rEPXwqzhiV62BDPjr4AvJjvOpnGTubnjHuUTRT6aSo3fY72ZS2HWH3OasnoxBYO34XFB9kLTUHvmEbkOQ0oytaxXuZoPXnI/s320/Ren.Min.Bi.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323796232865087138" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">As I was surfing one day, I happen to stumble on a pretty interesting scribe, at least for me. I have no idea whether it is still in its original form, but as I made a pass on it, admittedly, I got struck. It may not be relevant to me as a whole, but I can truly say that most of it would apply to each of my league. Read on...</span>
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<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CCARLOS%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} pre {margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" >REALITIES OF BEING AN OFW</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Hindi mayaman ang OFW - We have this notion na 'pag OFW o nasa abroad ay mayaman na. Hindi totoo yun. A regular OFW might earn from P50K - P300K per month depende sa lokasyon. Yung mga taga-Saudi or US siguro ay mas malaki ang sweldo, but to say that they're rich is a fallacy (Amen!).</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Malaki ang pangangailangan kaya karamihan ay nag-a-abroad. Maraming bunganga ang kailangang pakainin kaya umaalis ang mga pipol sa Pilipinas. Madalas, 3/4 o kalahati ng sweldo ay napupunta sa tuition ng anak at gastusin ng pamilya.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Mahirap maging OFW - Kailangan magtipid hangga't kaya. Oo, masarap ang pagkain sa abroad pero madalas na paksiw o adobo at itlog lang ang tinitira para makaipon. Pagdating ng kinsenas o katapusan, ang unang tinitingnan eh ang conversion ng peso sa dollar o rial o euro. Mas okay na magtiis sa konti kaysa gutumin ang pamilya. Kapag umuuwi, kailangang may baon kahit konti kasi maraming kamag-anak ang sumusundo sa airport o naghihintay sa probinsya. Alam mo naman 'pag Pinoy, yung tsismis na OFW ka eh surely attracts a lot of folks, friends and relatives.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Kapag hindi mo nabigyan ng pasalubong eh magtatampo na yun at sisiraan ka na. Well, hindi naman lahat pero I'm sure sa mga OFW eh may mga pangyayaring ganun. Magtatrabaho ka sa bansang iba ang tingin sa mga Pinoy. Malamang marami ang naka-experience ng gulang o discrimination to their various workplaces. Sige lang, tiis lang, iniiyak na lang kasi kawawa naman pamilya 'pag umuwi.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Besides, wala ka naman talagang maasahang trabaho sa Pilipinas ngayon. Mahal ang bigas, ang gatas, ang sardinas, ang upa sa apartment. Tiis lang kahit maraming kupal sa trabaho, kahit may sakit at walang nag-aalaga, kahit hindi masarap ang tsibog, kahit pangit ang working</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" >conditions, kahit delikado, kahit mahirap. Kapag nakapagpadala ka na, okay na, tawag na agad sa pamilya; "Hello! kumusta na kayo?". At ang kadalasan namang maririnig sa kanila ay; "Ikaw diyan, kumusta ka naman? Magi-ingat ka lagi ha...". Okay na sana yun kahit papaano, kaso panay yun at yun din lang ang paulit-ulit na sinasabi. Actually, laging expected mo na yun. Kabisado mo na nga.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Hindi bato ang OFW - Tao rin ang OFW, hindi money o cash machine. Napapagod rin, nalulungkot (madalas), nagkakasakit, nag-iisip at nagugutom. Kailangan din ang suporta, kundi man physically, emotionally o spiritually man lang.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Tumatanda rin ang OFW - Sa mga nakausap at nakita ko, marami ang panot at kalbo na. Most of them have signs and symptoms of hypertension, coronary artery disease and arthritis. Yet, they continue to work thinking about the family they left behind. Marami ang nasa abroad, 20-30 years na, pero wala pa ring ipon. Kahit anong pagpapakahirap, sablay pa rin. Masakit pa kung olats (talo) rin ang sinusuportahang pamilya - ang anak kundi adik, nabuntis; ang asawa naman may kabit. Naalala ko tuloy ang sikat na kanta dati, "NAPAKASAKIT KUYA EDDIE!"</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Bayani ang OFW - Totoo yun! Ngayon ko lang na na-realize na bayani ang OFW sa maraming bagay. Hindi bayani na tulad ni Nora Aunor o Flor Contemplacion. Bayani in the truest sense of the word. Hindi katulad ni Rizal o Bonifacio. Mas higit pa dun, mas maraming giyera at gulo ang pinapasok ng OFW para lang mabuhay. Mas maraming pulitika ang kailangang suungin para lang tumagal sa trabaho lalo na't kupal ang mga kasama sa trabaho. Mas mahaba ang pasensya kaysa sa mga ordinaryong kongresista o senador sa Pilipinas dahil sa takot na mawalan ng</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" >sweldo.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Matindi ang OFW - Matindi ang pinoy. Matindi pa sa daga, o cockroaches which survived the cataclysmic evolution. Maraming sakripisyo pero walang makitang tangible solutions or consequences.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Malas ng OFW, swerte ng pulitiko - Hindi umuupo ang OFW para magbigay ng autograph o interbyuhin ng media (unless nakidnap!). Madalas nasa sidelines lang ang OFW. Kapag umaalis, malungkot and on the verge of tears. Kapag dumadating, swerte 'pag may sundo (madalas meron). Kapag naubos na ang ipon, wala ng kamag-anak. Ang karamihan itutulak pa pabalik.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Sana sikat ang OFW para may boses sa Kamara. Ang swerte ng mga politiko nakaupo sila at ginagastusan ng pera ng Filipino. Hindi nga sila naiinitan o napapaso ng langis, o napagagalitan ng amo, o kumakain ng paksiw para makatipid, o nakatira sa compound with conditions less than favorable, o nakikisama sa ibang lahi para mabuhay. Ang swerte, sobrang swerte nila.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Matatag ang OFW - Matatag ang OFW, mas matatag pa sa sundalo o kung ano pang grupo na alam nyo. Magaling sa reverse psychology, negotiations at counter-attacks. Tatagal ba ang OFW? Tatagal pa kasi hindi pa natin alam kailan magbabago ang Pilipinas. Kailan nga kaya? O may tsansa pa ba?</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Masarap isipin na kasama mo ang pamilya mo araw-araw. Nakikita mo ang mga anak mong lumalaki at naaalagaan ng maayos. Masarap kumain ng sitaw, ng bagoong, lechon, inihaw na isda, taba ng talangka. Masarap manood ng pelikulang Pinoy, luma man o bago. Iba pa rin ang pakiramdam kung kilala mo ang kapitbahay mo. Iba pa rin sa Pilipinas, iba pa rin kapag Pinoy ang kasama mo (except 'pag kupal at utak-talangka), iba pa rin 'pag nagkukwento ka at naiintindihan ng iba ang sinasabi mo. Iba pa rin ang tunog ng "Mahal kita!", "Payakap naman kay Papa.", "Ambantot ng utot mo, anak!", " Inday, anong ulam natin? Mag-ihaw ka ng talong ha!". Iba pa rin talaga. Ibang iba. 'Taragis, nakaka-miss, super! Kaso wala e...</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" > Pero sige lang, tiis lang. Pasasaan ba't darating din ang pag-asa...</span>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">At some point I have to pause and ask myself; "Who could have asked me to be an OFW?. Didn't I have a better choice?". And as I try to get back to reality, yes indeed there were lots of choices, and options, and preferences, and alternatives. But deciphering deeper, my decision was a no-brainer. I can choose to stay and just be patient and resourceful and make do of whatever there is back home. But then it would mean that I am limiting what I can do. I would be violating my capabilities. And I would be defeating my own wisdom. I did not have kids and just watch them grow. I have always wanted a happy family. If we can not be happy altogether, then at least it would be just me.
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<br />Whether I 'sacrifice' or not, I know I shall be judged. And since I can not accept dimunitivity as dignity, and as long as I am still grateful of the fruits of my decisions, I know that if I don't see the reward until I breath my last, my whole journey would still all be mine - in peace.</span>
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNliRXIgKubIc6ukIVSP0D2LcMMzLeMO4YohOH7z_I3iWUcloRwSgpuSIHKSBxKnKEdDzIq1lRAjlOkNGWDYTrduzk0Wg249goQ4pHQK9iVVs8-eyoomKhpU4SdiiiPHooS7mUpVgxe6B/s1600-h/REMITTANCE.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNliRXIgKubIc6ukIVSP0D2LcMMzLeMO4YohOH7z_I3iWUcloRwSgpuSIHKSBxKnKEdDzIq1lRAjlOkNGWDYTrduzk0Wg249goQ4pHQK9iVVs8-eyoomKhpU4SdiiiPHooS7mUpVgxe6B/s320/REMITTANCE.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317740273116676018" border="0" /></a>
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<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"></span>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-88794561529949005722009-03-04T20:37:00.023+08:002009-10-15T16:53:30.408+08:00Simple Rules... While Inching To Freedom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbb2OjwGwn4YY9m3P31XcxJTazHdSLOUHMbe04RLRTXSwCEDDyIwpzl4lRIBdHozf_l8dZax7bq05_YlXVQVUa0NvLf9p87aQ6ahJ081ZIg5BZzGLSdlXHqBFjaA9qZQzpk0a8dcKCSJR/s1600-h/Janina.And.Me-02.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbb2OjwGwn4YY9m3P31XcxJTazHdSLOUHMbe04RLRTXSwCEDDyIwpzl4lRIBdHozf_l8dZax7bq05_YlXVQVUa0NvLf9p87aQ6ahJ081ZIg5BZzGLSdlXHqBFjaA9qZQzpk0a8dcKCSJR/s400/Janina.And.Me-02.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309313120507363266" border="0" /></a><p></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">I have seen this long before on a broadsheet, and I guess it may lighten up my worries a bit. It is called the "Eight Simple Rules On Dating Teenage Daughters", and it goes like:</span></span></p><ol style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;"><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Use your hands in my daughter and you’ll lose them later</span></span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">You make her cry, I make you cry</span></span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Safe sex is a myth. Anything you try will be hazardous to your health</span></span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Bring her home late, there’s no next date</span></span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Only delivery men honk. Dates ring the doorbell. Once.</span></span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">No complaining while waiting for her. If you’re bored, change my oil</span></span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">If your pants hang off your hips, I’ll gladly secure them with my staple gun</span></span></span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Dates must be in public places. You want romance? Read a book.</span></span></span></li></ol><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Quite funny to read for the others, but I shall keep these as my guideline, I guess.</span></span></p><p></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMEY6TlNUvG_r_mv6aFyknnh_a1aBwjkSNURislYZ1BdeNqYFFEYkOH92j1f4davJqEGQlthRvBWNthfYWCz-p_gR2lIAekBk8cD0JIP0xlfmGYk6yI6hWlYHIGg9VRxdaSWxYbToIFxT/s1600-h/Janina.And.Me.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMEY6TlNUvG_r_mv6aFyknnh_a1aBwjkSNURislYZ1BdeNqYFFEYkOH92j1f4davJqEGQlthRvBWNthfYWCz-p_gR2lIAekBk8cD0JIP0xlfmGYk6yI6hWlYHIGg9VRxdaSWxYbToIFxT/s400/Janina.And.Me.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309311875063425826" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">The truth to the matter is; our eldest daughter has</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"> just</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"> turned fourteen. And in a matter of time, it is inevitable that another better man shall take care of her. Not as much as I do, but maybe just as how I take care of her Mom. In as much when I took my wife away from the care of her parents, I surrender that it shall be the same case to our daughter. Damn..! We haven't even extensively enjoyed cuddling her! And I am more than jealous to think that another set of caring hands shall embrace her tiny frame soon. Well, that's just the defined cycle to all daughters, I must say so. But to be honest with myself, I wish I will be ready for that when the time comes. I've seen movies when parents would cry while giving their daughter away, much to the fathers. But in the end, no one can ever overturn destiny.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">So that this early, I hope that our daughter can see the good things that we had instilled; that we would expect her to try to only look for the good traits as her minimum requirement for her guy. So that when she welcomes her guy into her life, she could still move as if she is home - because we shall alway wish the best for her. I know I was not a totally great father to her, but I'm sure I shall always be the perfect one. Likewise to her Mom. We are pretty sure that we made a good job in raising her for what she will be. But as her loving father, I have always wanted to write her a letter, and so here it goes:<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:arial;" >My Dearest Janina</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >I recognize the fact that you are fast growing now my dearly beloved. I can still imagine you as a young little girl riding on my back without the fear of falling, because you know how much Papa would keep you safe. But I can't carry you the same way now. You've suddenly become quite heavy for my aching frame.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Your child memories would still play on my thoughts when I have to send you to school and you would give me a pressing kiss on the lips as you walk away. But we can not do that now. It would look awkward much when your peers are waiting.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >How lucky you are that me and Mama would always think of ways to make you happy as you always are. And when you smile back, you gratify us. That our love is all yours with fullest hopes that it shall lead you good. And that whatever you shall be, we will always be in oversight for the better you.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >But how unlucky you are too that I have to leave you to look after your future. What a bargain against our quality time that I have to be miles away and out of sight. That I can not laugh with you on your happy moments, nor cry with you on the dull ones. It pains me to note that while you are at your prime to be molded of what you will become, I can not be of any help, except for my thoughts that are always wrapped with your being.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Yes my child, my precious one. You are so lucky for being unlucky... because you and what is best for you, are my only agenda. I love you my pretty girl, and you don't need to love me back. Everything that I do for you - is all but my wisdom.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Love,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Papa</span><br /></span></div>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-45414826638702953012009-03-03T22:04:00.026+08:002009-04-01T11:49:45.975+08:00Just Walking Away... For A While<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CCARLOS%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p face="arial" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">It’s been about ten months since my last write-up.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I have always wanted to, but there was no worthy subject.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Emotions were still high.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Lull was highly called for. Guess I now feel more emotionally stable.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I have moved on.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">As well that a lot of turn-arounds have gotten in the way.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Situations have changed so quickly.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span></span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2KxmLjet4PcW_sAk4kpVo1bf1Tt5_ZnHD61K9p0jEZhXNs4K0UUz0UtBGXNI60f2Wpfa8eBwjv8V9Eo_npiPR2Jov9zqJTVSTv-RZW0induugGorAWyV7DwjKjGyONIWFRLKUatEhITBB/s1600-h/Me.In.My.Desk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2KxmLjet4PcW_sAk4kpVo1bf1Tt5_ZnHD61K9p0jEZhXNs4K0UUz0UtBGXNI60f2Wpfa8eBwjv8V9Eo_npiPR2Jov9zqJTVSTv-RZW0induugGorAWyV7DwjKjGyONIWFRLKUatEhITBB/s320/Me.In.My.Desk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308963478965590626" border="0" /></a></span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CCARLOS%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="Apple-style-span" > </span><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I have quit my old job of twelve years to become an overseas worker.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Why?</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Pretty same as my late father’s motivation when he made a decision.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Not for a greener pasture though because my old job paid me well.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">The pay difference that I get from my present job is not that hefty.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">But it helps to expedite tabled accomplishments to some extent.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Some frustrations were considerably a factor.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I just love my family that much, that I have chosen to be away for a few cents.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I joined a company who is run by an old acquaintance.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Firstly, I was easily lured by the friendship.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Another, accorded perks as compared to other potential overseas employers were just irresistible.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I can fly home every quarter and visit my family for ten days, all expense paid, inclusive of my vacation.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Among others, I can only spend so much money while on the job. Food and shelter are luxuriously provided. And various forms of recreation on the side too, with a few beers included.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span></span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaKAWp_T_NiRlMTpc4aUyLgEWHNhdKMaoAu4-WWsc6BQMuLQroOEALSvQfQCntz9PzDIBNDXKHYSiCyXOOJ3cScdVFXsZk3xetLJY9CzDdoRnzctWTk0mKgvB8ZEkkmW_J43gTYV8zoYW4/s1600-h/Me.And.My.Bed.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaKAWp_T_NiRlMTpc4aUyLgEWHNhdKMaoAu4-WWsc6BQMuLQroOEALSvQfQCntz9PzDIBNDXKHYSiCyXOOJ3cScdVFXsZk3xetLJY9CzDdoRnzctWTk0mKgvB8ZEkkmW_J43gTYV8zoYW4/s320/Me.And.My.Bed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308963353021356354" border="0" /></a></span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CCARLOS%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="Apple-style-span" > </span><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">But what really made me decide is; the future of my kids.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I am not trying to be a perfect father, but I submit to the fact that being a responsible and good provider is my most inspiration.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I must have gotten it from my late father.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">He wasn’t a perfect one either, but was tailored fit to the family that he built.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Now, I am on my sixth month being away.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">Not literally because I have already went back home almost every month.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">That’s why I can almost treat my present job as another exercise to my functions from my old job.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I was always on the run then, thus it’s almost the same.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span></span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoEv97MlQvYgBGed1IXTdrw3hJGDDfuJjf-pF-w4AkjZnG52wVomCVMKgH3Fl6Xt9-3K0YkZCAlmq6MlMIOXJS6ETOc2BKriOQVJ3S6cJyA5ZRswpBvZbh6Xs86r9d6M2x6eP_q825swAz/s1600-h/Me.and.Jackie-01.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoEv97MlQvYgBGed1IXTdrw3hJGDDfuJjf-pF-w4AkjZnG52wVomCVMKgH3Fl6Xt9-3K0YkZCAlmq6MlMIOXJS6ETOc2BKriOQVJ3S6cJyA5ZRswpBvZbh6Xs86r9d6M2x6eP_q825swAz/s320/Me.and.Jackie-01.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308963192074714898" border="0" /></a></span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CCARLOS%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="Apple-style-span" > </span><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I am now more inspired with my present job because I have gotten my dreadful ambition to lead a team.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">It wasn’t so challenging after all.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">My fifteen years of experience made it so easy for me.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I just realized that I was almost overripe for the job already.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">It waited too long.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">But now that it is in my hand, I must not complain anymore.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">I had always subscribed to my belief on good karma.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">You do well, you end well.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSbLU4sNDQJLFZNb5zWDbafw0VQmOWw_mNlaliqG45gLkaFXTGR7jjHRwwU74i7SaYj1ALSfvWpi7Nfx1sYkjhkwz-1uo1MIpTFuA4g3UlWxtNW3bGw_LE_B2SfduCB6NGAWAHbhyphenhyphenHkRW7/s1600-h/Me.and.Jackie-02.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSbLU4sNDQJLFZNb5zWDbafw0VQmOWw_mNlaliqG45gLkaFXTGR7jjHRwwU74i7SaYj1ALSfvWpi7Nfx1sYkjhkwz-1uo1MIpTFuA4g3UlWxtNW3bGw_LE_B2SfduCB6NGAWAHbhyphenhyphenHkRW7/s320/Me.and.Jackie-02.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308963025583368706" border="0" /></a></span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: arial;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CCARLOS%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="Apple-style-span" > </span><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span">I just hope it will get me better and better.</span></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="apple-converted-space" ><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span">For my kids.</span></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="apple-converted-space" ><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span">And for my family.</span></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="apple-converted-space" ><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span">Of course, my great wife included.</span></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="apple-converted-space" ><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span">It must be quite terrible for her to be looking after the kids alone.</span></span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="apple-converted-space" ><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I can only commend her for putting up with me always.</span></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span></span></p> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSD5OflivOXd6tEHRaRtOGS17_CxpcE9ACRjfcVFbeNX0YWoSEG3_i_FHdyBcCTDhDqPgolY9mXT4Yacknz-f-4dCqa83vsBy4HTtvNSSJ5x5LgvsM39BkTFEFUPZzZ0zoyeqtmxUzn32j/s1600-h/Segundo's-01.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSD5OflivOXd6tEHRaRtOGS17_CxpcE9ACRjfcVFbeNX0YWoSEG3_i_FHdyBcCTDhDqPgolY9mXT4Yacknz-f-4dCqa83vsBy4HTtvNSSJ5x5LgvsM39BkTFEFUPZzZ0zoyeqtmxUzn32j/s320/Segundo's-01.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308962338300255186" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <o:p></o:p><p></p> <span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p></span></span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CCARLOS%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} span.apple-style-span {mso-style-name:apple-style-span;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:Arial;">But of course, I could never discount the prayers of my ever loving Mom. I can never thank her enough for raising me as what I am right now. I shall always attribute that to her, no matter what.</span></span><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-size:78%;" >
<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDZs7Wds8Iwou_zNl-ZdlTK1TASG_A0YyCPi8xDYfeWzK9Dg3vyZ-yFVk4ZUzjj5Lx5HXCxtfDKyhDGmtdxs0HaOUwdgTRDtrvAwQUb9izXRzsuw4dRwc9fItXqlMzqOlBDXAyhdheQgm/s1600-h/Segundo's-02.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDZs7Wds8Iwou_zNl-ZdlTK1TASG_A0YyCPi8xDYfeWzK9Dg3vyZ-yFVk4ZUzjj5Lx5HXCxtfDKyhDGmtdxs0HaOUwdgTRDtrvAwQUb9izXRzsuw4dRwc9fItXqlMzqOlBDXAyhdheQgm/s320/Segundo's-02.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308962204259985218" border="0" /></a></span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); font-family: georgia;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CCARLOS%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;font-size:78%;" class="Apple-style-span" > </span><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">And so lastly, I must tell myself… “Good luck, kiddo..!”</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">But why not?</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I guess I just need lots of that from now on.</span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"></p>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3912541720804171944.post-28182988891846222232008-06-24T13:35:00.017+08:002008-07-02T13:56:48.863+08:00Widrawal Syndrome<span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">This could be just one chilling effect of a mid-life crisis, but I really don't know why I have all these mix emotions in me. In my mind I should know that a falling out among our family is happenning, but my heart would not agree. I cling onto my wife and my kids for answers, but they can not give me one. Because I would never ask questions anyway.<br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color:#000000;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0jQEq1R6oRxYTqK6Vo4I1f0bXC6BcvY6SqRROiBe07fkEzU3MAGfguPOqa7BhI2jrKhgaqNdbcY2RyPPcxfKwPbRIV7uAmuYKzxUhTkJ2O3ZLBq87BtmM5BEF7-BICXztzKNJol8kSVyO/s1600-h/IMG_8310.jpg"><span style="color:#000000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215320215534123810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0jQEq1R6oRxYTqK6Vo4I1f0bXC6BcvY6SqRROiBe07fkEzU3MAGfguPOqa7BhI2jrKhgaqNdbcY2RyPPcxfKwPbRIV7uAmuYKzxUhTkJ2O3ZLBq87BtmM5BEF7-BICXztzKNJol8kSVyO/s200/IMG_8310.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#000000;"><br />As our Mom spent her last days in Australia, the stakes became greater. Conquered by her longingness to her youngest son and his family, she turned around and bit her pride, and went back to embrace the people who hurt her. With lots of help from great folks, she has quite overcame the agony she underwent, and now she has to leave the loving arms of the same great folks that took care of her, to move to her son's place - even when she knew it shall be a hard one - because she just love him so much, period.<br /><br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOY1o04jep3uv9oqQRbYOtIbz6qCL0A-P8zPfPwogfzju_aOgfK6JxJCqCb_IiMB-tnSlJal7ZBTsVeLk_fpBrEX_S9Bh6SEoxNg6Jgkph0QeBcAv1CRNs8p_U5-X_smMPiZ7lmo3O5lJu/s1600-h/IMG_8294.jpg"><span style="color:#000000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215319925799527586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOY1o04jep3uv9oqQRbYOtIbz6qCL0A-P8zPfPwogfzju_aOgfK6JxJCqCb_IiMB-tnSlJal7ZBTsVeLk_fpBrEX_S9Bh6SEoxNg6Jgkph0QeBcAv1CRNs8p_U5-X_smMPiZ7lmo3O5lJu/s200/IMG_8294.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">But there are certain authorities which one used to have, then suddenly finds that are no longer there. She has to consider the fact that in her twilight, she can't perish in sadness. Paperworks are something not necessary to declare idiocry. She has to leave Oz, fast, before worse things would happen.<br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color:#000000;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQma6S4QoTX74GXRIQsafHDqZXob9U6wJLs2-f3gyaR76dZAKX_zQzxrUJpdQbozXT6-2aroZeWBZWKBVEOsuAMUdMfR7D-MKuKWI9-FqkS0toU9s5K4tERiNXGAfHbTuqRXTg-MXg8c1e/s1600-h/DSC08803.JPG"><span style="color:#000000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215319688637652178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQma6S4QoTX74GXRIQsafHDqZXob9U6wJLs2-f3gyaR76dZAKX_zQzxrUJpdQbozXT6-2aroZeWBZWKBVEOsuAMUdMfR7D-MKuKWI9-FqkS0toU9s5K4tERiNXGAfHbTuqRXTg-MXg8c1e/s200/DSC08803.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#000000;"><br />It has been about one and half months now since Mommy is finally home, back to the arms of those who would love her more, who would understand her better - her moods, her whims, her caprices. But why, she deserves to be happy, at the very least, so to speak. She won't be in this world for the next hundred years. Give the old woman a break!</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">I don't want to look out and blame everybody. My love for my brother shall never stop. And I shall continue to love him, and his siblings. But time has to take some moments for us. At one time he had told me; "we get closer being apart". That was before, and it was then true. But I wouldn't know now if that would still work. Because if there are things that we're going through right now, I want to make it clear that it is not an easy time for everybody. The flow may appear quite smooth, but lots of courage are in our hearts - to deny the "learning process" we had gone through. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">I would rather not look at the weaknesses of the people, but at their strength. I know my brother is ain't the lost sheep. Though he may not have seen the best of himself yet, I know at one time the right senses would knock upon his shell. Everyone may have been emotional of the circumstances, but I know for a fact I can never be angry with anyone. Anger can incapacitate one psychologically. I would not allow that. Others may hate people. But those who hate don't win unless people would hate them too. And then you self-destruct. That's never good at all.<br /><br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUwjcxNiVYych1ZTMIcsCnEL1DvoJ4DDVSLFkI5SLtEiknRB8u82K5EiOy6pl19-7ZZcC8p0YEfFd4a7yUZC8txE1dYAGGDuJ2k-BaN4wosuC0M6wYxrlaRZZmt2ltTTQBXxDrLAi1GIme/s1600-h/DSC08804.JPG"><span style="color:#000000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215318952992573266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUwjcxNiVYych1ZTMIcsCnEL1DvoJ4DDVSLFkI5SLtEiknRB8u82K5EiOy6pl19-7ZZcC8p0YEfFd4a7yUZC8txE1dYAGGDuJ2k-BaN4wosuC0M6wYxrlaRZZmt2ltTTQBXxDrLAi1GIme/s200/DSC08804.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#000000;"><br /><span style="color:#000000;">So in this world, what is never funny should not be magnified. But it is also good to stay away from such craps. To self reflect. To check things from afar. I give in that there are certain unique individuals that don't handle situations the normal way. But setting aside the issue of family relations, and grief over a dreaded loved one, a good human interpersonal relationship calls for an apology if you have wronged someone - especially if that someone doesn't deserve the administered heckling. I should pity my mother. But the more we must pity ourselves. We may have Mommy back, but we know, deep in her heart, she would always think of her beloved son Down Under. And underlying laughters shall never heal the wounds in her heart. In sunken eyes, the old lady shall never be as happy ever again...</span></span></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;"></div></span>Inauna Ni Insohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02738369886370432997noreply@blogger.com0