Category: Personal

  • Reunion and Death

    “There’s no such thing as accident” they say, but if that’s the case, what do you call those 2 deaths happening a few days before the Eheads reunion concert? The first one happened last year when the first reunion concert finally pushed through. Everything was about to go smoothly until Ely Buendia’s mom died. I thought the concert will be canceled or at least postponed, fortunately (or unfortunately) it did not. A few months after, with Ely’s condition a lot better, the 2nd reunion concert which they call the ‘final set’ is about to take place tomorrow. Again, rehearsals and preparations were doing great, as confirmed by Raymund Marasigan’s message in Sandwich’s yahoogroup, not until this afternoon when Francis Magalona died. Well, the death of the master rapper would not really affect the concert to a big extent, though he was supposed to be a “special guest” in the concert, doing the rap part of the song “Superproxy.” More than being a guest actually, have you given this question a thought, ‘who is Francis M to Eheads?’ I think it was like asking who’s Ely’s mom to the group. I do want to play innocent and treat it as something which is just ’scheduled’ to happen. Period. But I just can’t help but wonder why there should be a death of someone close to Eheads happening before their two reunion concerts. Does that mean that the final set should really be the final set? Or is that again a warning to Ely and his health? Did Francis M saved Ely from death this time like what could have happened when Ely’s mom passed away? All I can do now is pray that the concert will finally reach its end successfully, even if I won’t be there this time because I am 7 months pregnant and obviously not allowed to watch the concert. To Eheads, break a leg! To Ely, good health! To Ely’s mom and Francis M, peace! Amen! Tiyak yon! Amen!

  • Should I lose my grip?

    It’s a little bit weird seeing everyone so busy buying items for exchange gifts and preparing for Christmas party while I am busy paying bills, thinking about what to serve on the table and buying what my children and husband needs. Well, you see, I have been a corporate slave since 2001 and my body seems to be looking for that Christmas rush. I may still have a couple of things to buy this Christmas like gifts for family, relatives and godchildren, not to mention Santa Claus’ list for Zach, (Marcus already knows about it so he just gets a gift from me) but there’s no rush for it, knowing that I have all the time in the world.

    This made me realize that being a full time housewife is a lot more serious decision than I thought it would be. Being at home and not knowing when to be back in the corporate world (that is if I’ll ever be back), the world I have known for many years, is like losing that grip of who I am as a person. Or should I say who I used to be for so long. I did not realize that changing careers would be like changing personalities.

    Staying at home is a lot more complicated, though compensation is beyond monetary terms. You don’t get any appraisal at the end of the year, meaning you don’t get any feedback of how you are as a mother and wife. I guess those can be realized after you see your children grow up and learn who they come to be in the future. Risky, yes, but when they start telling stories to you like a friend does to another or just kiss and hug you for no reason at all, it all becomes worth it.

    I am now in the midst of thinking if I should not lose that grip of being a corporate person or finally accept that my future is geared towards serving my kids and husband’s needs full time. I don’t have any answer yet, but I know God has been leading me to where I should be. I guess it’s all a matter of patience and acceptance.

  • Living and Loving

    I have written this article a couple of years ago…
    With some re-touch, finally I can post it on my own site.

    ‘I felt I could die happily 13 years ago, hearing the
    confession of the guy who for months was the object of
    my affection. He was not the boy-next-door-type, he
    was never predictable, he was not ordinary… and our
    story neither was.

    I have loved him from the very moment I saw him came
    out of the fast-food chain that was our meeting place.
    He was wearing a red-colored shirt, and so was I.

    I thought I loved him more when all we did was spend
    our money, mostly his, and do everything together.

    I thought my love for him was far greater when all we
    had was each other and a couple of bucks in our
    pockets.

    I thought it was my heart’s peak when he looked at my
    eyes and told me that he’ll spend the rest of his life
    with me, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in
    health…

    I thought I’ll have enough of this love… but enough
    didn’t came. There was always growth, there was always
    more.

    More when I delivered our 7.8lbs son, more when he was
    operated because of his tumor (praying and thanking
    God that it was benign), more when our son is sick and
    nobody but ourselves could understand the worry and
    pain we feel, more when we learned that we were having
    another baby and lost it after few weeks, more when I gave
    birth again to another baby boy, more and more when we
    laugh ourselves out joking around, and a lot more each
    day when unknowingly we were getting strength from
    each other by just being together.

    I’m glad I didn’t die happily 13 years ago, I could
    not have experienced life.’