Going into a Dreamland with Papsie

One night, I dreamt that Papsie was walking among the crowd of students in PUP, going straight to the direction of the university. He was there, with that bright yellow cotton shirt with a Garfield on the breast paired with the Levi’s denim pants, walking briskly because he does not want to be late. I adore the sight and makes me feel loving him more just seeing him in a dream. But I feel sad, too, in that dream, to the point of breaking into tears. Odd, but I know that I was only dreaming.

Papsie does not walk that smart anymore. Being afflicted with stroke due to hypertension, he has to go into limps. I know how this had affected my husband so much. He had many aspirations in life. He wanted to be successful. For him, it was just a waste that he took a five-year engineering course and then land into a condition where he cannot do the things he had envisioned. It was not easy for him and for everybody who loves him. It was not easy for me.

That was 1988 when he was afflicted with stroke, the left part of his body (excluding the head and the face) was affected. He cannot move normally since then, and drove me into fits of sleepless nights because he wanted me to find another one and just forget about him. Then we got married 1989. My parents got mad at me. We doubted that we could have kids but we bore two beautiful and intelligent kids.

Currently, my husband stays at home though the strokes had stopped. He stopped working (he once had tended hogs for a living then put up a small burger business afterwards) because the doctors have told him that he should not be stressed. He can do light exercises but not heavy ones. But he still drives the car, tends to domestic matters, and attends to legal matters, too, and many more.

I wrote the poem Going to a Dream Land thinking that if he would wish to stay in a place where he could be given the chance to do the things he wanted to do and walk and move as normal as before, I would give the go-head. Even if it means that we will be apart from each other. I would not deprive him of the happiness of being ‘normal’ again, which was lost for many years. I love him so much that my loneliness is nothing compared to the happiness he should have.

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Going into a Dreamland with Papsie

One night, I dreamt that Papsie was walking among the crowd of students in PUP, going straight to the direction of the university. He was there, with that bright yellow cotton shirt with a Garfield on the breast paired with the Levi’s denim pants, walking briskly because he does not want to be late. I adore the sight and makes me feel loving him more just seeing him in a dream. But I feel sad, too, in that dream, to the point of breaking into tears. Odd, but I know that I was only dreaming.

Papsie does not walk that smart anymore. Being afflicted with stroke due to hypertension, he has to go into limps. I know how this had affected my husband so much. He had many aspirations in life. He wanted to be successful. For him, it was just a waste that he took a five-year engineering course and then land into a condition where he cannot do the things he had envisioned. It was not easy for him and for everybody who loves him. It was not easy for me.

That was 1988 when he was afflicted with stroke, the left part of his body (excluding the head and the face) was affected. He cannot move normally since then, and drove me into fits of sleepless nights because he wanted me to find another one and just forget about him. Then we got married 1989. My parents got mad at me. We doubted that we could have kids but we bore two beautiful and intelligent kids.

Currently, my husband stays at home though the strokes had stopped. He stopped working (he once had tended hogs for a living then put up a small burger business afterwards) because the doctors have told him that he should not be stressed. He can do light exercises but not heavy ones. But he still drives the car, tends to domestic matters, and attends to legal matters, too, and many more.

I wrote the poem Going to a Dream Land thinking that if he would wish to stay in a place where he could be given the chance to do the things he wanted to do and walk and move as normal as before, I would give the go-head. Even if it means that we will be apart from each other. I would not deprive him of the happiness of being ‘normal’ again, which was lost for many years. I love him so much that my loneliness is nothing compared to the happiness he should have.

Going into a Dreamland with Papsie

One night, I dreamt that Papsie was walking among the crowd of students in PUP, going straight to the direction of the university. He was there, with that bright yellow cotton shirt with a Garfield on the breast paired with the Levi’s denim pants, walking briskly because he does not want to be late. I adore the sight and makes me feel loving him more just seeing him in a dream. But I feel sad, too, in that dream, to the point of breaking into tears. Odd, but I know that I was only dreaming.Papsie does not walk that smart anymore. Being afflicted with stroke due to hypertension, he has to go into limps. I know how this had affected my husband so much. He had many aspirations in life. He wanted to be successful. For him, it was just a waste that he took a five-year engineering course and then land into a condition where he cannot do the things he had envisioned. It was not easy for him and for everybody who loves him. It was not easy for me.

That was 1988 when he was afflicted with stroke, the left part of his body (excluding the head and the face) was affected. He cannot move normally since then, and drove me into fits of sleepless nights because he wanted me to find another one and just forget about him. Then we got married 1989. My parents got mad at me. We doubted that we could have kids but we bore two beautiful and intelligent kids.

Currently, my husband stays at home though the strokes had stopped. He stopped working (he once had tended hogs for a living then put up a small burger business afterwards) because the doctors have told him that he should not be stressed. He can do light exercises but not heavy ones. But he still drives the car, tends to domestic matters, and attends to legal matters, too, and many more.

I wrote the poem Going to a Dream Land thinking that if he would wish to stay in a place where he could be given the chance to do the things he wanted to do and walk and move as normal as before, I would give the go-head. Even if it means that we will be apart from each other. I would not deprive him of the happiness of being ‘normal’ again, which was lost for many years. I love him so much that my loneliness is nothing compared to the happiness he should have.

Ang Pagguhit ni Kay

Mahilig si Kay gumuhit. Magaling talaga ang kamay. Kahit na sarili niya kaya niyang iguhit. Sabi nga ni Zen noon, malalaman mo na magaling gumuhit ang isang tao kung maiguguhit niya ng maayos ang mga kamay at ang mga paa. Naisip ko noon na magaling nga ang anak ko.

Maliit pa lang si Kay, alam ko na ang talentong ito ay hindi na mawawala. Dahil mahilig din akong gumuhit, palagi ko siyang ini-encourage. Ang mga bata naman, lalong pinupuri, lalong ginaganahan. Talagang kapansin-pansin sa kanya ang galing na gumuhit. Kitang-kita mo ang interes habang gumuguhit ako para sa mga proyekto sa iskul. Makikita mo na lang siya sa isang tabi na panay ang iskribol, tahimik na pini-perfect ang sariling drowing.

Isa lang ang dapat mong tandaan pag siya ay gumuguhit. Huwag mong titingnan kung paano niya ginagawa ang isang drowing. Ayaw niya ‘yun. Madalas nag-aaway sila ni Daryl tungkol dito. Ewan ko ba, pareho kami ni Kay sa ugaling iyon, at ewan ko rin bakit ganun na ayaw ko na minamasdan kung paano ako gumuhit. Siguro, nakakawala ng konsentrasyon. Maaaring ganun din ang dahilan ni Kay.

Wala na akong praktis sa pagdrowing. Dinaig na ako ng anak ko. Kahit sa bilis ng pagdrowing, iniwan na ako ng milya-milya. Di bale, anak ko naman ang tumalo sa ‘ken. Yan lang ang palagi kong sinasabi lalo na pag sinasabi ni Rey na ‘talung-talo ka sa beauty ng anak mo.’ Di bale, ako naman ang nagdrowing kay Kay, di ba?

Ang Pagguhit ni Kay

Mahilig si Kay gumuhit. Magaling talaga ang kamay. Kahit na sarili niya kaya niyang iguhit. Sabi nga ni Zen noon, malalaman mo na magaling gumuhit ang isang tao kung maiguguhit niya ng maayos ang mga kamay at ang mga paa. Naisip ko noon na magaling nga ang anak ko.

Maliit pa lang si Kay, alam ko na ang talentong ito ay hindi na mawawala. Dahil mahilig din akong gumuhit, palagi ko siyang ini-encourage. Ang mga bata naman, lalong pinupuri, lalong ginaganahan. Talagang kapansin-pansin sa kanya ang galing na gumuhit. Kitang-kita mo ang interes habang gumuguhit ako para sa mga proyekto sa iskul. Makikita mo na lang siya sa isang tabi na panay ang iskribol, tahimik na pini-perfect ang sariling drowing.

Isa lang ang dapat mong tandaan pag siya ay gumuguhit. Huwag mong titingnan kung paano niya ginagawa ang isang drowing. Ayaw niya ‘yun. Madalas nag-aaway sila ni Daryl tungkol dito. Ewan ko ba, pareho kami ni Kay sa ugaling iyon, at ewan ko rin bakit ganun na ayaw ko na minamasdan kung paano ako gumuhit. Siguro, nakakawala ng konsentrasyon. Maaaring ganun din ang dahilan ni Kay.

Wala na akong praktis sa pagdrowing. Dinaig na ako ng anak ko. Kahit sa bilis ng pagdrowing, iniwan na ako ng milya-milya. Di bale, anak ko naman ang tumalo sa ‘ken. Yan lang ang palagi kong sinasabi lalo na pag sinasabi ni Rey na ‘talung-talo ka sa beauty ng anak mo.’ Di bale, ako naman ang nagdrowing kay Kay, di ba?

We Went Unplanned

It was like hopeless when Papsie and I were discussing about when we are going to have the usual dip into the waters which is supposed to be held every year as a family gathering. There was not enough money, there are other priorities, what about the others, etc, etc. – these we all have to take into consideration. Papsie always acts like he is the eldest – always planning for the group. But he is the youngest living among Nanay’s offspring. Why then he always have to fret for the others? Papsie is by nature a kind brother though misinterpreted a lot of times, or maybe just ignored because he is the youngest, or maybe they just don’t want to give importance to what he had done or to what he is doing for the good of everybody.
But I am not here for that story. The story was about the unplanned trip turned out to be one of the fun trips we had with Kuya Pen’s family. As I said it was just like hopeless, I mean, it was just like no swimming for the kids, which will make me sad for them. Papsie already told me that Kuya Pen and his family will pursue their plan with or without anybody in the group the following day. Then Pareng Lito came, Papsie inquired about his kumpare’s lakad the following day. No trip for Pareng Lito on the following day! Shoot! Papsie figured immediately what to do next – he told Kuya Pen that we will be using Pareng Lito’s vehicle which can accommodate 10 people. I asked what about the others and Papsie told me that he was told that they will be going with a group of neighbors so we need not worry. They have already plans on their own.
The trip to Tanza, Cavite is a nice one. My kids enjoyed swimming in the waters of the beach. It was a new and fun experience for them. The food was nice, too, – inihaw everything! Oh, there was adobo which was Daryl’s favorite. It is inihaw na tahong for Kay. We went unplanned but we got back with all smiles and sunburn!

TRIP TO TANZA, CAVITE

Ngayon ko lang na ipost ang mga pics na ‘to… Ang dami kasing pinuntahan na tsibugan matapos naming magswimming. Malapit lang ito, sa may Tanza, Cavite. Umalis kami ng bago mag 6 am noong March 26, 2005 – Black Saturday o Sabado de Gloria. Sobrang nag-enjoy ang dalawa kong babies. Pa’no naman ngayon lang sila nakapag swim sa dagat. Sinama namin si Kay noon nung siya ay 1 1/2 yrs old pa lang – wala pang malay. Ngayon, nagdurusa kaming lahat, dahil na sunburn!