Old Friends

Missing my old friends.

Dear Father,



Today, I stumbled upon a name of an old college classmate during a conversation at lunch. I thought so hard of her name and finally succeeded in giving the name to her face. I remembered what our trainor here in the office taught us. That we can try to look for the name of people using Google. So that is what I did.

First I Googled "Adeliza Alonzo", that charming soprano girl from college. There were many search results, but none about the person I know of. I was about to close the browser when another name came to mind. What about those guys back in elementary?

I can only remember a few of them, as I considered my life back then as Hell. Those that I managed to remain in my memory are those who were pretty significant.

First I searched my "bestfriend" back at Grade 3, Ms. Viracell O. Luansing. Who would have thought this cute Chinese girl would turn out to be a UP Los Banos Scholar with an average GPA of 1.63. Wow! She definitely rocks! I bet she doesn't remember me anymore, but hey, I give her a salute for managing to even get in to UP. I failed at their entrance exams and will forever be banned from entering their gates.

Next, I searched for a dear friend back at Grade 4. His name is Mr. Andrian Benavidez. He's probably the first guy I ever got close with, but not that close enough. He was an interesting kid with adorable pink cheeks. The only person I've ever seen probably in my whole life with naturally rosy cheeks. He was a pretty chubby person back then too. And very very friendly. He tried to get real close with me and even exchange little letters occasionally. Sadly though, I never appreciated everything that much, and back then, my heart was closed to everything else. I lost contact with him when I transferred schools, but I have really fond memories of being with him. I still keep the angel he gave me as a gift, and I still remember his birthday... October 24, 1986.

I stopped writing to him out of embarrassment. I was younger and thought like a child. He was more mature and may want a more private life. So that ended my communications with him altogether.

I searched his name in Google and got the second surprise for the day.

Andrian Benavidez went to Jose Rizal University for college and became part of the male cheering squad there. He looks so far from the Andrian I knew, so I was only sure it was him because his address located him in Pasig City. He is still the friendly guy I know, and had managed to shed off a great amount of weight too. He had lost his rosy cheeks though. But he is still smiles a lot, and that is great. I still hope I could meet him someday. I bet he'd notice a great difference with the little girl he once knew.

Finally, I searched for our Grade 3 class vice president, Mr. Timothy Nabong. He was a thin looking kid with fairly large eyes and ears (in my eyes that is). He was once my seatmate and I admired his mad drawing skillz. He was really smart too. I had a secret crush with him back then.

Lo and behold, the kid had turned into a fine man. He was (or perhaps still is) a part of a religious band called SONs Youth Band, writing music (and maybe singing them as well). He was very active in a religious sense, even writing a column called "Looking Up" which is a reflection of a student's life with God. He looks different in his picture too, grown bigger muscles than when I last saw him. He'd probably scold me about my faith if I ever meet him again.

I tried to search for others, but it seemed that the Internet holds little to no info about them. Maybe one day I could try to search for more of my elementary classmates and see what they've been up to.

Sincerely,
Jerusha

P.S. By the way, if you are curious, I tried to look your name up as well. As of today, Google finds nothing under your name.

Where has Santa gone?

Thinking about you during this season of happiness.

Dear Father,

It's December once again, and Christmas is lurking just around the corner. This used to be a pretty lonely holiday for me. There were the small presents. There were a few friends. There was plenty of food on the table. But still there is something missing all these past Christmases.

And that something was you.

Years ago, your absence was very much noticed. I would decorate the Christmas tree all by myself. Figure out how to get the star on the top. Ask my cousin's help with the electrical stuff. Come up with the best Christmas cards or gifts I can create. Cook something special for the Noche Buena and eat it with the family. That was how Christmas would go for me. It was monotonous, with nothing special happening. I always waited though. Always hoped. That one day Santa would answer my long time wish to finally spend a Christmas with you.

I once had the courage to come up with a Christmas list during my childhood years. It composed of the latest Barbie that was the latest model back then, gift wrapped and delivered right at my doorstep. I ended up forgetting about it. I tore it up and threw it away when I discovered it again and was told that the reason Santa can't go here is because we don't have any chimneys.

When I entered highschool, our 3rd year teacher gave us star-shaped slips of yellow cardboard to write all our wishes for Christmas. All the stars will then be placed at our door to form a Christmas tree out of it. Guess what I wished for?

That there would be peace in the world and that all families would be together this Christmas.

I had grown past the age of making gift lists for Santa. Now, I'm making a list for the people around me. The pain of your absence was lessened by the presence of my family and friends. Christmases today were much happier than it was before.

But still, I can't resist thinking about you. You are still my father no matter what. And however short was the span of time that the two of us spent together, you can't erase the fact that you still have some place in this small broken heart of mine.

I still think of you even today. Where in the world could he be staying right now? Is there snow in that country? I wish he would send some chocolates. Even melted snow would be nice. I'd just keep it frozen. What is his health condition? Is he sick? I hope he isn't. And if he is, I hope he gets well soon. How about gifts? Will he be receiving any? What would he like if he were here?

I think it will be a very very long time before all these questions and many more are answered. But I can wait as long as God permits me to stay in this mortal realm. I just want you to know that I miss you very much.

And Papa... Merry Christmas... wherever you are in the world.

Sincerely yours,
Urban Witch

The One Thing that Made Me Cry

"If I Am"

So your standing on a ledge,
It looks like you might fall.
So far down,
Or maybe you were thinking about jumping.
Now you could have it all,
If you learned a little patience!
For though I cannot fly,
I'm not content to crawl!...
So give me a little credit,
Have in me a little faith!
I want to be with you forever,
If tomorrow's not too late!...

And it's always too late when you've got nothing
So you say!...
But you should never let the sun set on tomorrow,
Before the sun rises today...

IF I AM!
Another waste of everything you dreamed of,
I will let you down...
IF I AM!
Only here to watch you as you suffer,
I will let you down...

So your walking on the edge,
And you wait your turn to fall.
But you're so far gone,
That you don't see the hands upheld to catch you.
And you could find the fault,
In the heart that you've been handed!
For though you cannot fly,
You're not content to crawl!...

And it's always too late when you've got nothing
So you say!...
But you should never let the sun set on tomorrow,
Before the sun rises...

IF I AM!
Another waste of everything you hoped for,
I will let you down...
IF I AM!
Only here to watch you as you suffer,
I will let you down...

So you're standing on a ledge,
It looks like you might fall...

IF I AM!
Another waste of everything you dreamed of,
I will let you down...
IF I AM!
Only here to watch you as you suffer,
I will let you down...

The answers we find,
Are never what we had in mind.
So we make it up as we go along...
You don't talk of dreams
I won't mention tomorrow.
And we won't make those promises that we can't keep...
I will never leave you!
I will not let you down!
I will never leave you!
I will not let you down!

Dear Father,

Earlier this morning, I was reading through the comments in my blog, and I was quite happy to see that several people had liked what I have written. I read back on some of my entries and for some reason, I found myself amused at how I narrated stuff about my life.

The song above popped in my head right after reading my birthday entry last year. It's "If I Am" by Nine Days. I must admit, I'm not a fan of the band, and I stumbled upon the acoustic version of their song while listening to my cousin's MP3 collection. I loved it at the first moment I heard it, and had memorized its lyrics in no time. I could listen to this song over and over in my head and never get tired of it. But since the MP3 is stowed away in my home PC, I was not able to hear that song again for months now.

Looking at the lyrics now made me realize why it felt special to me. It is related to me and my relationships not just with other people but myself as well. Sometimes, I just give up on myself, in the limitations and imperfections that I have. I would not take criticisms lightly and would find myself always at fault.

But things had changed.

Now that I had let go of the need to impress other people, I feel more free to be myself and express myself in the style that I want. I realize just how much criticism can help you grow, if given at the right moment and with the right voice. I know that I should never judge, and take time to analyze everything before making a decision.

I had learned a lot.

But as I said, the song also covers my relationships with other people. Other people, which includes you.

Back at 2002, during our 4th Year Recollection Seminar held at Antipolo, our class did a series of soul-searching activities together with another class. In Recollection Seminars like this, it was as if it's really expected of you to cry at one point or another. But all throughout, I found nothing worth crying about. Maybe because I was bored out of my wits half the time.

But during the final leg of the seminar, just before the concluding mass, we had a speaker come to the altar and relate his past. I could not remember his name. It was Jamie or James or Jessie or something. But I seriously can remember his story.

The one thing that made me cry.

He, like me, once hated his father. His father had not left him, but was brutal with him. His punishments were unbearable. So the speaker decided to leave them and build his own life when he was old enough. He got a stable job and a family as well. He had left his past behind.

He would occasionally receive calls and texts from his siblings and mother. But never from his father. He felt that his father didn't care. His hatred for him grew. He cursed his father and his existence.

But one day, he received a call from his sister. Their father wanted to see him.

Still bitter, he hesitates, but ends up going home. And he saw his father for the first time in years.

He had aged drastically. The powerful arms that used to whip him are not as strong as they were. He sat in a wheelchair. His strong character was still there, and yet, in his eyes, his father is finally powerless and weak.

For a moment there, pride set in.

His father asked for his forgiveness. He refused to give in. He still hated him.

Days passed. His father would continually ask for him. Ask to go out with him. To spend time with him. At first he refused. Until finally, he realized that he could not go on hating forever. He gave in.

It was the happiest one week of his life. They went to the mall together. Played chess. Did a lot of guy stuff together. It seemed to go on forever. But then again, nothing lasts forever.

His father had a heart attack. As he was being rushed to the hospital, his father searched for him. He held out his hand, and his father gripped it tightly even inside the ambulance. When they are going to the ER, they found it impossible to loosen the father's grip on his son's hand. They had to let him inside the ER, and the Speaker watched the final moments of his old man's life.

He found it hard to believe, but he cried for him after that.

He cried, for the regret. For all the things they failed to do together. For not being able to be there when his father needed him.

For not being able to forgive him.

And suddenly, I found myself crying. Admitting to the people I do not care much about that I lived most of my life searching for my own father. Never having felt what it was like to be loved by a man. To my surprise, there were several other students like me in the crowd, including my bestfriend and one of my close friends.

Did you know why I cried, father?

I realized that hating you entirely will lead to nothing. And I also felt great regret for not being able to enjoy a lot of stuff together with you. I want that one day with you. I want to know what it's like to be loved by a father.

I want to know, most of all, if you ever loved me and Mama.

Father, if you are reading this, I do hope that you come home. I miss you in a way that cannot be measured by human limits. If I ever shun you, or shout at you or reject you, please don't turn away. Give me time and don't give up. You are still my father, and I am still your daughter. I still have a space for you in my heart, no matter how small it would seem to be.

Sincerely yours,
UrbanWitch

If the shoe fits, I'll take it!

Why is it this hard to find the perfect shoe?!

Dear Father,

Ever had problems with your shoe?

I have a personal wish list about the things I plan to buy the moment I have money for it. Among these things was a new pair of sneakers.

So last Saturday, I took off to the nearby mall to buy myself a new pair, since I just received half my salary for the month. There were a lot of them, and I ended up liking 3 pairs. And since they were on sale, I could actually buy two of them. That caught me in a really good mood.

Two of the three pairs that I liked have pink trimmings on them. (Yes, no matter how much I deny it, I always loved pink and still do.)While the third one was canvas colored with a cool pattern and glitters. Cheerfully, I approached the saleslady and asked for my size: 8. She scooted off with my chosen sneakers while I go on browsing over the expensive pairs.

After a few minutes she returned, with a sad sad report...

SALESLADY: "Ma'am, we've ran out of bigger sizes."
ME: (points to the sneakers)"All of them?"
SALESLADY: (nods) "But we still have this one in other colors..." (shows me a pair of size 8 sneakers in silver and black)
ME: (looks at each disappointedly) "Would you have one in my size by next week? I can wait."
SALESLADY: (begins an explanation that points out that it just is impossible to get the sneakers I like by next week.)

Yes, I was a bit of desperate, coz I do need the sneakers badly. The one I'm currently wearing is getting really worn out. And I would have worn the sneakers real proud, because the money came from my own hard work.

I remember you once sent me a package containing clothes and a pair of pink sneakers. I liked those sneakers, except for one thing. They were two times bigger than my feet. I actually wore them one time, and my cousins teased me for looking like Ronald McDonald with the really big shoes. It was really embarrassing, and I ended up giving up the shoes to one of my cousins because it fits her.

I don't know what happened to those sneakers. I don't know if she used it or not. I don't even see it in their house anymore. Even if I do claim it back, I know it wouldn't fit me anymore, because my feet have swelled to a freakin size 8.

After the Holy Week, I would once again embark on my quest to search for a pair of sneakers. Hopefully, this time, I wouldn't be so unlucky.

Walking Home

Well, I'm not exactly as enthusiastic as this when going to school.

Dear Father,

I really can't believe how a little Will can go a long way...

Yesterday, there was a major jeepney strike and almost all the jeepneys in the Metro had decided to take the day-off. As jeepneys were the major mode of transportation for Filipinos nowadays, the strike had literally affected a lot of people, most of which were the local commuters. And among the irate crowd was me. It was during these times when I wish that Mama would let me ride a bike to work, since it my new workplace was close enough to home. But being a girl and all, plus the fact that the streets aren't made for bikes (unlike Marikina and other places), no amount of reason would persuade her to do so.

Anyway, that morning, I got to get a ride to work, since the strike was bound to start later during the day. I got to work, forgot everything about the strike and did whatever work I have to do. I only remembered about the strike later in the afternoon, when I was about to go home and couldn't get a single jeepney to stop for me because all of them were filled to the brim. By that I meant that the passengers were sitting like sardines inside while outside there is at least one person who was hanging by the estribo. Frankly, I would not be surprised to see a jeepney with passengers even at the roof, but that only happens in the province...

After 5 minutes of seemingly hopeless waiting, I made a firm decision to walk home. As if I was hit by Reborn's Dying Bullet, I determinedly told myself: "I will walk home as if I were to die!" (Yes, I do sound like I had read too much manga once more.) So I did.

Before starting my 1 kilometer walk, I stopped by a barbeque grill stand and ordered two sticks of isaw for a light snack. As soon as I paid for them, I began my walk while enjoying my first stick of isaw. I caught quite a bit of attention walking there like one would in a park, munching the barbeque like it was the most delicious food on earth, and enjoying whatever scenery the urban environment can offer. I can truly say, yesterday's red orange sunset was just beautiful, but I bet only a few people noticed it.

Anyway, I did enjoy the long and tiring walk. I finally got to eat at that BBQ stall that I wouldn't have done if I chose to take a ride. I finally saw the boutique with the blue gown I once coveted (after closer inspection, realized it wasn't as beautiful as I thought.) I got to feed a stray kitten. Got the attention of a lot of onlookers. And proved to myself that I can do anything I put my mind into.

I got home at around 6 pm. Tired but quite happy.

Farewell to my Daddy-Long-Legs

It has almost been 5 months since the first butterfly took off, and now, a second butterfly took off and followed the first...

Dear Daddy,

"Daddy-Long-legs" has been my favorite story ever since I watched the animated series aired on local channels. I've read the e-book and plan on purchasing a second hand copy of the book, plus it's sequel "Dear Enemy".

Why am I so fascinated with this book? Because there are just times that I feel Judy and me are one. How?

• We were both abandoned. Jerusha by her parents, me by you.
• We both prefer being called by our nicknames.
• We are both bibliophiles.
• We are both suddenly exposed to an unknown society.
• We have the same number of close friends. (And same personalities too.)
• We both had had hand me downs. (And hated them)
  
• We like to splurge ourselves with every opportunity.
  
• Both of us had a sponsor that took care of the tuition fees.

Unlike Judy, I knew who my "Daddy-Long-Legs" was. In fact, I knew her name, where she lives, and why she sponsored my studies. That's why when the news of her sudden passing reached us, I just had to cry.

"Tita Elsa" was a prominent person. She is known for her charitable works and donations to numerous churches and seminaries throughout the Philippines. She had also paid visit to the late Pope John Paul II and the recent Pope Benedict XVI, gaining a commemorative certificate from both. When she is not absorbed in her Spiritual duties, she enjoys herself doing a little ikebana, watching Wowowee by noon, or eating any food that suits her fancy. She was not diagnosed for any ailment, save her gout problem that runs in the family. That was why it was indeed a great shock for us when we called to check on her only to receive news that she had passed away.

I just came home from work around 6:30p.m last Saturday, February 23. Mama appeared from the bedroom with a confused look. On her phone was a missed call from Tita Elsa. Thinking that maybe something had happened, she quickly called her house to check up on her. To our surprise, the nurse informed us that Tita had just passed away. Mama was filled with disbelief, and was quite hysterical as the conversation went on.

She died in the hospital, suffering bone cancer. She had been confined for two weeks, enjoying the prayers of her friends from the ministry while undergoing the medications. But last Saturday, she took God's firm grip as another attack came to her, and she did not let go of God's hands. Like Nanay, she passed away with a painful death.

She was embalmed at the same place where Nanay was embalmed, and taking the trip back there had the painful memories flashing back at me. I once again saw my old self, in my canvas jacket, crying in the rain, upon realization that Nanay had gone and will never come back again. I went back to the washroom, and could "hear" myself crying. Even if it had been 5 months ago and a lot has changed, it seems that time went back to that dreadful night once more.

A lot of changes had been done to the place. The administration office had transferred, and there's now a flower shop and a sari-sari store at the ground floor. There had been awfully a lot of people now, and a lot of dead ones. Maybe God had began to pick the wheat from the grass already.

We met up with Tita's son, and Mama cried her heart out to him. He related to us Tita's pains, and how her death was a relief, since she wouldn't have to bear the pain anymore. Her body was still being embalmed, so we went to the room and waited for the arrival of her casket. Once it was put in place, Mama was caught once more in a crying fit. I couldn't help but cry myself, since she was the humblest rich person that I know of, as she had considered us as a part of their family, even if we were just her step-relatives.

We had her last mass, courtesy of her priest scholars, where an eulogy was given by the priest himself about Tita's generosity. It dawned to me then that she wasn't just putting me to school, but hundreds more, and most of them were the ones who had their hearts set to God.

"She had been preparing for this day all her life." the priest said. Indeed. Looking back, you can see that she had been fully prepared when God took her. Plain, simple and beautiful like an ikebana. She had been so devoted to God, I believe that she is in the "Fast Lane" to Heaven right now.

For all her love and care, I thank her. And I will never ever forget her.

Respectfully yours,
Jerusha Abbott

Mood Swings

Mood: Blank

A lot had occurred since the last post, half of which aren't that great.

Currently I'm in the office knocking myself out with the internet and all... Well, obviously, I am knocked out. I've been sitting in front of this friggin monitor for about 10 hours now! (Wouldn't complain if it had games and all... bwtf?)

Anyway, since the last post, I had been shifting moods from Depression, Desperation, Fatigue, Anger, then quickly into Happiness, Excitement, Determination and Hyperactivity...

Now it's back to depression again.

Anyway, it's just another mood swings I'm getting in that'll sure to pass after I get my hands on another online game.

New Year.. New Life... Hiatus?!

Eheheheheh... Ooopps?

It's the year 2008, and since almost everything in my life is in hiatus at the moment, so will this blog. With the things I've learned in last Saturday's "Internet Marketing Bootcamp", (all my gratitude to my neechan and the people of US Auto Parts Phils.), I was enlightened that if I really want this site to be what I dream of it, I would have to take more time and effort reconstructing the site and all. And so, I have decided to close the site temporarily for its much needed renovations.

It will be up and back maybe by February this year (I'm not promising anything though.)

As for now, please enjoy my very first movie, and this little snippet I picked up while roaming around the net. It was written in my native tongue, so I made a rough translation of everything else in English for the majority of you who will read this. To enjoy the raw text, follow the link on the title. :)

26. Walang Tawiran (No Crossing)

(Rough translation of "Walang Tawiran")

*on picture: "That's because you're always on a hurry. Aren't we supposed to do this together?"

X: Then why did you ask me to wait?
Y: I thought that there are things that doesn't have to be told. As Wittgenstein said-
X: I've heard about that.
Y: And why is it that our names are still X and Y? We're like the Cartesian Plane. That's why we never meet. Because I hate Math.
X: Let it go. See, we finally met. But I have to go now.
Y: You can't cross there. Use the overpass instead.
X: I can't believe you're super concerned about me. As if you'd cry if I die.
So X crossed the street, got hit by a vehicle, became a model for the "No Crossing. Deadly.**" promo that was used in the campaign of BF. While Y on the other hand--
Y: If you only waited for me...
X (as a soul): It's not that easy.
Y: Is it easier to die?
X: Sometimes.

**I have a real hard time trying to translate "Nakamamatay". For a visual of the road sign, see the above picture.

~~~

My first movie based on true events of my life. Its really blurry coz I only used a cellphone cam with low specs. Still, I hope you enjoy it. If you can't see the movie, just follow the link below and leave a comment.


Maalala Mo Sana by Silent Sanctuary


P.S. I'd be glad to take free blogging lessons from anyone who' d volunteer out there. Leave your tips via comment and I'd be glad to link back to your site if I use your tips to improve mine.

Thank you.