Of Drenched Chicks and Rain-soaked Thoughts--Sa Nangahumod nga mga Piso ug sa Hinumolan nakong Huna-huna

Sa pagtugpa palang sa akong mga tudlo, nituya-tuya 

Na dayun ang mga litra sa keyboard;

Mura na man ganig andam nang mabulasot ang akong 

Kumingking sa kilid ni L ubos ni P

Tayming pud ang pagbunok sa ulan sa dihang

Nahapla ang akong mga kumagko

Ug nilatas akong hunahuna ngadto sa unom nalang ka buok 

Namong mga piso sa tangkal. Naato ba kaha tog lublob sa himungaan

Ang gakurog nga mga piso. Nipadayon pagpatuya-tuya

Ang akong mga tudlo sa mga litra.-mga litra nga murag 

Giputos, gitipigan, gakurog,

gitugnaw kay 

Layo sa imong inalisngaw.

My COVID-19 Could-Have-Beens

Today, roughly seven months after day 1 of the virus, I think of the “could-have-beens.” Futile, yes, but sometimes you do what you do to keep your so-called sanity intact. So

here I go.

If I had to go back to day 1 when the COVID-19 virus struck mankind, I would have done a few things differently. I would have chatted with my friends until my saliva would dry out because I would not be able to do that from now on. I would have hugged my husband more openly and more often as that is improbable right now. He couldn’t even come home to rest in his own bed to be with us.

 

If it were only within my finite power, I would have done anything to break its spread. But what power do I hold to even track this invisible enemy that rapidly reached nooks and crannies of this planet and infected the vulnerable breathing being in our friends, coworkers, and loved ones? The pandemic becomes that darkness that closes in on us even as I write these thoughts down. And what scares us is that tomorrow is the most uncertain future we all are tentative to step into. Hours from now, a day or two my neighbors or yours might not be able to wake up and might just go too soon. And we are left with that heaviness not just because of fear of death but because of that uncertainty that hangs so menacingly up ahead. That we are no longer in control shakes the core of that self-reliant man in us. All that money that we save for our kids’ future; all those investments we painstakingly put up are now held in the frail fate of the crumbling economy; all that hopes our hard-earned reputations built are now thrown into thin air. Nothing defines tomorrow now. If anything, it’s the hardest time to see it.

Perhaps, the minister who enunciated that “it is only in God’s sovereign will that all this uncertainty and unrest be put to a perspective” is right. Perhaps the only thing I can do now is be at the posture of prayer, the one last thing we can have.

That Long Hiatus

Four years. Who would have known I would be back to writing. I had gone through a lot of uphill climbs and downhill statuses. But it has always been God's faithfulness that has brought me to a better height--one that transcends the world's standards and ideals.

This is my family now. My Shekinah Myrrh is doing quite awesome in her academics that I never thought she would in a matter of four years. She is starting to see the value of hard work. And a mother could only be too happy for that.

My husband meanwhile continues to rock the world with his unassuming ways and splendid skills that always work wonders. I remain bloated physically but I always reinvent myself so I can keep pace with the fast-paced world and technology my kid is exposed in. She is now 8 and I know she needs the tigress in me to monitor her stubborn ways to work well for her future. And I have God in His omnipotence to see us through.

SA GAMAYNG ANGHEL KAUBAN SA IYANG LIFE VEST NGA MIDAGSA SA BAYBAYON SA LAPULAPU (Gikan sa naunlod nga MV St. Aquinas)

Nunot sa mitidlum mong
Kalibutan ang
Akong pagpangab-ot---

Pagsapnay.

LOVE THAT BECOMES MY SUBSISTENCE

Love begets love. So they say. But when it comes to that I am not really very demonstrative. I used to be.  These days I’d rather choose time to whom and how should make my affection happen. It probably started back when over and over the people whom I thought matter have, one by one, ignored my unadulterated demonstrations of affection. I finally made my resolve to never again be openly the first one to show some haywire demonstrations of concern (of sort) to just anybody even to ones that matter now. And being raised in a family culture where expressions of affection are considered a taboo didn't help. So I can understand if people would begin to comment that I seem to choose to remain at a certain distance.

Unfortunately for me, having to consciously hold back has become an awful habit. The people who truly matter become the helpless recipient of my assumed coldness.

It took me time.  To pull back what used to be my generous self in terms of affection has surprisingly become an uphill climb now. My only redemption is that now I’m constantly trying. My husband is a blessing. He doesn't even know he’s a treasure. He would often say I love my work more than I love him. How could I ever blame the guy? My daughter of 4, though unable to articulate her pains when I become detached, I know is hurting inside.

One night after a grueling time with her assignments, she became too unresponsive and less willing to finish her work. I became too impatient to the point of hurting her which still makes me feel so guilty up to now. She finished her assignments all right but the next scenes would knock off any adult.

I noticed her red eyes all right earlier on that night. I knew she was trying to hold back tears. But I was too engrossed with some agenda at work that I forgot to talk to her which I used to do in moments like this.  I didn't even notice her go inside the bathroom. In an instant, I turned around when I heard someone wailing at the bathroom. It was too loud. It even sounded as though it came from someone who is deeply hurt and desperate. I opened the door and I noticed the muffled cries from her, perhaps scared of me to find out she’s crying. Those muffled cries suddenly reminded me of how I was when I got hurt, but that was what I was when I was 12. My daughter is just 4 years old.

Alarmed, I went inside and hugged her for a few minutes without saying anything. She tried to push me away. Then I prayed aloud. I told God I was so sorry for hurting my only daughter. I told God that I was so wrong for wanting her to be perfect right away when I wasn't even perfect as I am. When I opened my eyes, I didn't notice she was already calm and praying too. That was then that I talked to her and asked for forgiveness. After all, I don’t think she now thinks as a four-year-old thinks. Right there, I know her comprehension as to what is happening is as sharp as that of a twelve-year-old’s.

She forgave me. I can sense it through her hugs and smile. And yes, that smile was priceless. That brought me back to being her friend once again.

Love begets love, in my case is not true all the time. As to my daughter and husband, they don’t hold back even if what they’re getting is a measly dime meant for a beggar so to speak. They continue to give me more than enough love which does not suffocate but one that has become my subsistence.

As I said I love them so terribly. That’s the only reason I am constantly trying not to hold love in.

SA DIHANG MIHUNGHONG KO SA KALENDARYO ATOL SA AKONG ADLAWNG NATAWHAN

Karong gabii,

Muhangad ako pag-usab

Mukapyot sa imong mga sidsid, mamasin:

Pabalikon pa ba kaha ko diha sa katapusan mong luna?

Mudagayday pa ba pag-usab

Ang napulo ka tuig nga 

Mihaguros, ni wa gani mananghid?

Dad-on mo pa ba kaha ko didto 

Bisan nalang sa mga pinisik sa kaniadto 

Nga misawom sa kalimot?

Apan para unsa pa

Aduna na man kahay laing tungtungunan

Ang napanday?

Tungtunganang mas halapad pa

Kay sa trayntay-uno ka buok nimong

Mga kinwadradong luna.

Busa sige,

Inig hangad nako kanimo karong gabii,

Palili-a nalang ko sa kinwadrado kong

Kaniadto.

USA KA BASONG BALAK

Kung ako pa unta si Li Po
Magtagay ta sa akong bino

Magsusapinday ta
Tungod nianang buwan

Bisan pag sawmon
Ta ang kinapusuran

Sa dagat sa mga garay
Ug unya didto ta maglambahanay

Kay didto ang bathala
Mao ra ang akong usa

Ka basong balak