That Sad Look in Her Eyes

It’s been almost two weeks since my mother in-law was hospitalized. Nanay underwent blood transfusion. Her hemoglobin content dropped off so she was given blood transfusion. She needed four bags to conquer that life-threatening situation. With God’s mercy, she was able to recover in a week’s time. Little by little, her color returned.

Though she can already move slowly, she still wheezes going to the comfort room. Little movements make her pant, even when coming out of the bed. Aside from these observations, she easily forgets. She looses focus and cannot enjoy simple conversations. She had lost her sense of humor, too, and mostly appears gloomy. She seems to get irritable with small matters, and seldom smiles. She demands attention and wishes for the presence of particular persons which seemed to have forgotten to pay her a visit.

Senility is tagging along. It is really heart-breaking to see a once-active woman being slowly eaten away with aging. It is frightening, too, that we will all pass across this stage (except maybe for those whose contract will be terminated earlier). It is a sad thought to feel you are left isolated when once you toiled for others, or helped a lot in small and big ways. Where have they all gone?

I try most of the time to bring her into conversations. I know and feel that she wanted the others to be there and be the ones in my place. I should feel touchy but I could not help feeling anything but pity. I feel she wants them to visit and talk to her endlessly. It really makes her very sad to wait for the others that she wishes to come and visit.

Thanks to her favorite grand daughter who volunteered to sleep with her in her room. She hadn’t failed her Lola who did not fail her also when she was still studying and in dire need of money and support for her schooling. I know her presence is doing a lot to conceal the loneliness.

That Sad Look in Her Eyes

It’s been almost two weeks since my mother in-law was hospitalized. Nanay underwent blood transfusion. Her hemoglobin content dropped off so she was given blood transfusion. She needed four bags to conquer that life-threatening situation. With God’s mercy, she was able to recover in a week’s time. Little by little, her color returned.

Though she can already move slowly, she still wheezes going to the comfort room. Little movements make her pant, even when coming out of the bed. Aside from these observations, she easily forgets. She looses focus and cannot enjoy simple conversations. She had lost her sense of humor, too, and mostly appears gloomy. She seems to get irritable with small matters, and seldom smiles. She demands attention and wishes for the presence of particular persons which seemed to have forgotten to pay her a visit.

Senility is tagging along. It is really heart-breaking to see a once-active woman being slowly eaten away with aging. It is frightening, too, that we will all pass across this stage (except maybe for those whose contract will be terminated earlier). It is a sad thought to feel you are left isolated when once you toiled for others, or helped a lot in small and big ways. Where have they all gone?

I try most of the time to bring her into conversations. I know and feel that she wanted the others to be there and be the ones in my place. I should feel touchy but I could not help feeling anything but pity. I feel she wants them to visit and talk to her endlessly. It really makes her very sad to wait for the others that she wishes to come and visit.

Thanks to her favorite grand daughter who volunteered to sleep with her in her room. She hadn’t failed her Lola who did not fail her also when she was still studying and in dire need of money and support for her schooling. I know her presence is doing a lot to conceal the loneliness.

A Purse is But a Rag Unless You Have Something in It*

How true.  Fancy a purse without money in it.  That would make one feel miserable. 

The frequently heard, “Don’t say you don’t have money because a coin is money still.”  Along with this, some would say that repeating the phrase will really make your life miserable and without money.  Baseless as it is, I view the saying as words of inspiration – not to consider lack as hindrance to pursue a dream, or as reason to surrender.

The mind is like a rag, too, without knowledge and wisdom.   When devoid of learning and required information, the mind is useless.  Therefore, the owner feels tattered, too, and unconfident.  Wonder how true the claim of a friend that his brain is more expensive than other brains because it is not overused.  Not true, of course, because that was spoken in jest.

My purse is not brimming with money.  It is light even with money in it.  That saddens me once in a while, but it doesn’t keep me from going on to seek ways to make it a little heavy, and not overflowing.  Just enough money in it makes me feel I am not void of sense.  That somehow I make something out of my existence – to provide, and be of help if necessary.

My mind is not of a genius either.  It craves for knowledge, and it still is up to this time.  But when crammed with concerns, regrets, and sad and angry thoughts, it is better to be without its fill.

 

* H. Melville, Moby-Dick, page 13.

A Purse is But a Rag Unless You Have Something in It*

How true.  Fancy a purse without money in it.  That would make one feel miserable. 

The frequently heard, “Don’t say you don’t have money because a coin is money still.”  Along with this, some would say that repeating the phrase will really make your life miserable and without money.  Baseless as it is, I view the saying as words of inspiration – not to consider lack as hindrance to pursue a dream, or as reason to surrender.

The mind is like a rag, too, without knowledge and wisdom.   When devoid of learning and required information, the mind is useless.  Therefore, the owner feels tattered, too, and unconfident.  Wonder how true the claim of a friend that his brain is more expensive than other brains because it is not overused.  Not true, of course, because that was spoken in jest.

My purse is not brimming with money.  It is light even with money in it.  That saddens me once in a while, but it doesn’t keep me from going on to seek ways to make it a little heavy, and not overflowing.  Just enough money in it makes me feel I am not void of sense.  That somehow I make something out of my existence – to provide, and be of help if necessary.

My mind is not of a genius either.  It craves for knowledge, and it still is up to this time.  But when crammed with concerns, regrets, and sad and angry thoughts, it is better to be without its fill.

 

* H. Melville, Moby-Dick, page 13.

When Left With Not a Choice

It will always be better for couples to live apart from in-laws, or relatives. It will always be better not to have their home among or with them. To live as husband and wife without meddlers and influences is like living without restrictions from unwanted people. It is like living spontaneously and peacefully.

Of course, everybody needs somebody. On occasion. But couples do not necessarily need to live with in-laws and relatives to make a successful marriage.

In abnormal situations though, couples have to live with the disadvantages of living among or with them. The task is never ever easy.

Some in-laws eye a wife’s or a husband’s every move. They fault-find and she or he is a prey, often nitpicked because she or he is a stranger in the house or among the group. Often an object of ridicule, the poor wife or husband, tries to win in-laws’ approval or acceptance to no avail. The stranger is left with disappointments that often lead to anger.

There are in-laws, too, who compete for the attention and approval of elders. They work out scheming ways so that their siblings’ wives or husbands, together with their siblings, will be despised by the elders or the parents. Incomprehensible tactics perhaps for others but there are reasons, and one of them is the prized heirloom of the family, or the big favors that can be obtained in the future.

You will be surprised that there are in-laws who will not allow anybody, especially the wives or husbands of their children, or siblings, to outdo, or to overtake them, with the favors awarded (even as simple as food rations), or with the carrying out of responsibilities. They calculate, and they should not be left behind, or overridden. They do not care if others are left behind, or overridden but not them, or else it will be like waging war to them.

A lot of in-laws are cold and unsympathetic, too, because of envy, insecurities, and frustrations. They see something in a son’s wife or a daughter’s husband or a sibling’s wife or husband that is lacking from them. Their incapacity to obtain a valuable possession, for example, leads them to envy and hatred. This therefore results to unwarranted criticisms and character assassinations. Poisonous mouths can kill and so they persist with their relentless attacks.

If you want to know deeper why they are envious and insecure beings, try to background-check. You will discover the many reasons: from their own lives’ frustrations to the many personality deficiencies, from want of attention to avarice of getting everybody’s attention or the prominent figure’s attention, and from simply wanting to compete to dangerously wanting to get rid of anybody in the way.

I know for a fact that not all in-laws are insufferable, cold, and vile. There are always exemptions. And to those who are blessed to live with adorable in-laws, hold them dear to your heart.

When Left With Not a Choice

It will always be better for couples to live apart from in-laws, or relatives. It will always be better not to have their home among or with them. To live as husband and wife without meddlers and influences is like living without restrictions from unwanted people. It is like living spontaneously and peacefully.

Of course, everybody needs somebody. On occasion. But couples do not necessarily need to live with in-laws and relatives to make a successful marriage.

In abnormal situations though, couples have to live with the disadvantages of living among or with them. The task is never ever easy.

Some in-laws eye a wife’s or a husband’s every move. They fault-find and she or he is a prey, often nitpicked because she or he is a stranger in the house or among the group. Often an object of ridicule, the poor wife or husband, tries to win in-laws’ approval or acceptance to no avail. The stranger is left with disappointments that often lead to anger.

There are in-laws, too, who compete for the attention and approval of elders. They work out scheming ways so that their siblings’ wives or husbands, together with their siblings, will be despised by the elders or the parents. Incomprehensible tactics perhaps for others but there are reasons, and one of them is the prized heirloom of the family, or the big favors that can be obtained in the future.

You will be surprised that there are in-laws who will not allow anybody, especially the wives or husbands of their children, or siblings, to outdo, or to overtake them, with the favors awarded (even as simple as food rations), or with the carrying out of responsibilities. They calculate, and they should not be left behind, or overridden. They do not care if others are left behind, or overridden but not them, or else it will be like waging war to them.

A lot of in-laws are cold and unsympathetic, too, because of envy, insecurities, and frustrations. They see something in a son’s wife or a daughter’s husband or a sibling’s wife or husband that is lacking from them. Their incapacity to obtain a valuable possession, for example, leads them to envy and hatred. This therefore results to unwarranted criticisms and character assassinations. Poisonous mouths can kill and so they persist with their relentless attacks.

If you want to know deeper why they are envious and insecure beings, try to background-check. You will discover the many reasons: from their own lives’ frustrations to the many personality deficiencies, from want of attention to avarice of getting everybody’s attention or the prominent figure’s attention, and from simply wanting to compete to dangerously wanting to get rid of anybody in the way.

I know for a fact that not all in-laws are insufferable, cold, and vile. There are always exemptions. And to those who are blessed to live with adorable in-laws, hold them dear to your heart.

He Says the Darnest Things

You always hear him cuss. 5 per centavo.

To Daryl he will ask the question out of the blue: Lumaki na ba, anak? (Has it grown bigger, son?)

To the gays that march the narrow path in front of the house: Ang gaganda naman ng mga miss na ito! he he (These girls are beautiful!) he he

To me: May agiw ka yata sa ilong. (You have cobwebs in the nose.) That is pertaining to the filth in my nose.

To the other motorists who he thinks are failures, or does not know or follow the road rules:

– Asuwang! (Evil creature!)

– Bobo! (Simpleton!)

– Di ka pa sikat, laos ka na! (You're not popular yet but you have lost it already!)

– And a lot more.

Of course, the other motorists do not gather this because we are in the car, and they have no idea what he's mumbling about.

Peace, Papsie!

To others he's a simple man,

And fame he's never had,

But he's the greatest man we know,

He also is our dearest Papsie.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, PAPSIE! – with all our love..

And to all fathers in the world: HAPPY FATHER'S DAY! 

 

He Says the Darnest Things

You always hear him cuss. 5 per centavo.

To Daryl he will ask the question out of the blue: Lumaki na ba, anak? (Has it grown bigger, son?)

To the gays that march the narrow path in front of the house: Ang gaganda naman ng mga miss na ito! he he (These girls are beautiful!) he he

To me: May agiw ka yata sa ilong. (You have cobwebs in the nose.) That is pertaining to the filth in my nose.

To the other motorists who he thinks are failures, or does not know or follow the road rules:

– Asuwang! (Evil creature!)

– Bobo! (Simpleton!)

– Di ka pa sikat, laos ka na! (You're not popular yet but you have lost it already!)

– And a lot more.

Of course, the other motorists do not gather this because we are in the car, and they have no idea what he's mumbling about.

Peace, Papsie!

To others he's a simple man,

And fame he's never had,

But he's the greatest man we know,

He also is our dearest Papsie.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, PAPSIE! – with all our love..

And to all fathers in the world: HAPPY FATHER'S DAY! 

 

Dead Beat

The small shanty, voiceless and maybe deaf, is the only witness to her tears. How long had she been crying silently? An hour? Thirty minutes? She doesn’t know. She will not know. Her mind had soared to the days where there is superfluity of good things.

A timid knock is heard from the door. It was Amelia, her eldest daughter, the once reigning little princess in her elementary grades, now a young grown-up, who had chosen to marry at a young age than pursue schooling in college. Beaten by the situation, Amelia chose to marry to escape the grueling situation only to find out that it is not far better than before.

Amelia barely nodded to greet, and forced a wry smile towards Roquesa, her mother, who sits across the room, two legs bent while arms around them seemed to have imprisoned the two legs. Roquesa rocks to and fro in a slow motion.

“I have only five pesos to buy you kerosene for your stove. That’s all I can give. Luis did not make it last night. Very few customers,” Amelia walked towards a makeshift table by the corner, and proceeded, “Perhaps Nilo will drop by to bring you rice to cook. Here is a can of sardines. This will do, and don’t expect me to buy egg to make omelet. That is also four pesos, I could save it for the baby’s milk.”

After Amelia left, Roquesa stared at the can of sardines. How could she have her fill of food? She feels too weak to get up and get the knife to open the can. If only Nilo would be a little earlier, the sharp pain of hunger will not insist. But she has to move to get the knife.

Feebly, she inched her way to the table and roamed her eyes to where the knife is. It was among the spoons and forks on a plate. It seems shinier than anything on the plate. It was trying to get her attention, and it seems she hears the glistening knife talk, “Now, silly, come on and move your feet. Come and get me. USE ME!”

“Flashes of light. Why are there flashes of light? That is little Amelia! Look how she walks with her new clothes!”

“My darling, don’t leave me! Please, tell that woman I need you, we need you! I will do everything! I will not cross you! I will do whatever you say!”

“Nilo, my little baby…”

Nilo pushed open the ratty door. Horrified by the figure lying on the floor, drenched with blood, knife still stuck on the stomach, he run to his mother who at the moment was panting for breath. “Why did you do this? I told you I will come, Mother.”

“Nilo, my little baby…” Roquesa smiled (at last) lovingly at Nilo. The panting stopped.

Dead Beat

The small shanty, voiceless and maybe deaf, is the only witness to her tears. How long had she been crying silently? An hour? Thirty minutes? She doesn’t know. She will not know. Her mind had soared to the days where there is superfluity of good things.

A timid knock is heard from the door. It was Amelia, her eldest daughter, the once reigning little princess in her elementary grades, now a young grown-up, who had chosen to marry at a young age than pursue schooling in college. Beaten by the situation, Amelia chose to marry to escape the grueling situation only to find out that it is not far better than before.

Amelia barely nodded to greet, and forced a wry smile towards Roquesa, her mother, who sits across the room, two legs bent while arms around them seemed to have imprisoned the two legs. Roquesa rocks to and fro in a slow motion.

“I have only five pesos to buy you kerosene for your stove. That’s all I can give. Luis did not make it last night. Very few customers,” Amelia walked towards a makeshift table by the corner, and proceeded, “Perhaps Nilo will drop by to bring you rice to cook. Here is a can of sardines. This will do, and don’t expect me to buy egg to make omelet. That is also four pesos, I could save it for the baby’s milk.”

After Amelia left, Roquesa stared at the can of sardines. How could she have her fill of food? She feels too weak to get up and get the knife to open the can. If only Nilo would be a little earlier, the sharp pain of hunger will not insist. But she has to move to get the knife.

Feebly, she inched her way to the table and roamed her eyes to where the knife is. It was among the spoons and forks on a plate. It seems shinier than anything on the plate. It was trying to get her attention, and it seems she hears the glistening knife talk, “Now, silly, come on and move your feet. Come and get me. USE ME!”

“Flashes of light. Why are there flashes of light? That is little Amelia! Look how she walks with her new clothes!”

“My darling, don’t leave me! Please, tell that woman I need you, we need you! I will do everything! I will not cross you! I will do whatever you say!”

“Nilo, my little baby…”

Nilo pushed open the ratty door. Horrified by the figure lying on the floor, drenched with blood, knife still stuck on the stomach, he run to his mother who at the moment was panting for breath. “Why did you do this? I told you I will come, Mother.”

“Nilo, my little baby…” Roquesa smiled (at last) lovingly at Nilo. The panting stopped.

Suspicious Wife

Just the other day, on my way home, I saw a male friend in the act of running off, too. I asked first where his route is and if I can be given a lift up the corner of the main road. He forced an alibi that he will have to stay a little later. Puzzled by the answer, I opted to leave immediately and boarded a jeep.

I was so puzzled that I even asked Papsie what could be the possible reason why my friend reacted that way. Just the other day with a co-employee, I was in that vehicle. Still wondering, I asked another friend if my male friend's wife is a jealous type. She confirmed and said that everyday his wife is waiting at the corner of that main road. She also said that my male friend could have deliberately avoided the chance of giving me a lift. But I insisted why the other fellow girl employee was allowed. And my friend told me that perhaps because she was a close friend of the wife, and a business partner, too. That's it? And if I will be their business partner, I can be given a lift? Really odd.

I also experience, although I don't know how natural it is, pangs of jealousy. I usually feel jealous when Papsie's attention is caught by a pretty woman passing by, and gets lost in the conversation. But I don't get hysterical and start an argument. I would usually be silent and not utter a word anymore. Yes, not a word, even if he pesters me why I suddenly do not answer or become silent in the middle of it all. I discuss the things indirectly when I feel it is the right time, starting from hints to direct assault. 😦 What I cannot understand is why I get the puzzled look always from Papsie when I suddenly become silent. It is as if he is not guilty of anything. Now, I may have overcome the feeling. That is maybe I have already matured (?) to understand that he is not leaving me when he stares at a pretty woman passing by. 😉

Out of the blue a thought surfaced! Maybe there are tests to assess jealousy and true enough there is a jealousy test for women, and for men, too.

I got a 34 and it means this. Couldn't agree more.

Most people experience a certain amount of fear that their loved one could leave them for someone else. After all, these things happen, and when they do, it is usually very painful. You fit right into this usual range – certain situations may spark feelings of jealousy, but generally you are not preoccupied with the fear of losing your partner. If you were honest with yourself while taking the test, this means that you are secure, strong, independent and rational enough to recognize the possibility of losing your partner to someone else, but not be consumed by it. That does not mean that you do not care; you would certainly be as sad or crushed as anybody else. However, you know that if it ever happens, you will survive with your self-esteem and dignity intact. You realize that even though you might love your partner very much, s/he is not the only fish in the sea, and that you would eventually find happiness with someone else. Such feelings give you a sense of security and the strength to trust, and allow you to be comfortable in the relationship. That, in turn, boosts the chances of a lasting and fulfilling relationship.

Suspicious Wife

Just the other day, on my way home, I saw a male friend in the act of running off, too. I asked first where his route is and if I can be given a lift up the corner of the main road. He forced an alibi that he will have to stay a little later. Puzzled by the answer, I opted to leave immediately and boarded a jeep.

I was so puzzled that I even asked Papsie what could be the possible reason why my friend reacted that way. Just the other day with a co-employee, I was in that vehicle. Still wondering, I asked another friend if my male friend's wife is a jealous type. She confirmed and said that everyday his wife is waiting at the corner of that main road. She also said that my male friend could have deliberately avoided the chance of giving me a lift. But I insisted why the other fellow girl employee was allowed. And my friend told me that perhaps because she was a close friend of the wife, and a business partner, too. That's it? And if I will be their business partner, I can be given a lift? Really odd.

I also experience, although I don't know how natural it is, pangs of jealousy. I usually feel jealous when Papsie's attention is caught by a pretty woman passing by, and gets lost in the conversation. But I don't get hysterical and start an argument. I would usually be silent and not utter a word anymore. Yes, not a word, even if he pesters me why I suddenly do not answer or become silent in the middle of it all. I discuss the things indirectly when I feel it is the right time, starting from hints to direct assault. 😦 What I cannot understand is why I get the puzzled look always from Papsie when I suddenly become silent. It is as if he is not guilty of anything. Now, I may have overcome the feeling. That is maybe I have already matured (?) to understand that he is not leaving me when he stares at a pretty woman passing by. 😉

Out of the blue a thought surfaced! Maybe there are tests to assess jealousy and true enough there is a jealousy test for women, and for men, too.

I got a 34 and it means this. Couldn't agree more.

Most people experience a certain amount of fear that their loved one could leave them for someone else. After all, these things happen, and when they do, it is usually very painful. You fit right into this usual range – certain situations may spark feelings of jealousy, but generally you are not preoccupied with the fear of losing your partner. If you were honest with yourself while taking the test, this means that you are secure, strong, independent and rational enough to recognize the possibility of losing your partner to someone else, but not be consumed by it. That does not mean that you do not care; you would certainly be as sad or crushed as anybody else. However, you know that if it ever happens, you will survive with your self-esteem and dignity intact. You realize that even though you might love your partner very much, s/he is not the only fish in the sea, and that you would eventually find happiness with someone else. Such feelings give you a sense of security and the strength to trust, and allow you to be comfortable in the relationship. That, in turn, boosts the chances of a lasting and fulfilling relationship.

Rule of Life: Don’t feel sorry, don’t look back.

 

This cannot be avoided. I sometimes find myself, too, wallowing in thoughts that do not help – past thoughts, regrets, or ideas solely based on anxieties – rolled into one.

But there are worst-case scenarios where an individual cannot be productive anymore because of self-pity. They become burdens. They live unconcerned.

I refuse to give in to self-pity. When I am nearing that point of becoming a defeatist, I talk to myself; and I usually talk to God most of the time. I talk profusely, no limits. (But I have to make sure I am alone.)

It is useless to think that others are better and I am not. That way, I will not move anymore and be a sloth. It is useless to think that I am useless because there are things I can do that others cannot.

And there are those who think that their life is harder or sadder. They stop living. They treat themselves like ripened fruits waiting to fall. Interest is not palatable anymore. Everything is bland. Crap…

I think that people think this way because of pride, too. Self-pity is one form of pride. One is so pre-occupied of self overlooking the other people around who might need their attention, company, or help.

Look back. But recollect the good life. Because weighing all things, good and bad, the good still outweighs the bad.

Rule of Life: Don’t feel sorry, don’t look back.

 

This cannot be avoided. I sometimes find myself, too, wallowing in thoughts that do not help – past thoughts, regrets, or ideas solely based on anxieties – rolled into one.

But there are worst-case scenarios where an individual cannot be productive anymore because of self-pity. They become burdens. They live unconcerned.

I refuse to give in to self-pity. When I am nearing that point of becoming a defeatist, I talk to myself; and I usually talk to God most of the time. I talk profusely, no limits. (But I have to make sure I am alone.)

It is useless to think that others are better and I am not. That way, I will not move anymore and be a sloth. It is useless to think that I am useless because there are things I can do that others cannot.

And there are those who think that their life is harder or sadder. They stop living. They treat themselves like ripened fruits waiting to fall. Interest is not palatable anymore. Everything is bland. Crap…

I think that people think this way because of pride, too. Self-pity is one form of pride. One is so pre-occupied of self overlooking the other people around who might need their attention, company, or help.

Look back. But recollect the good life. Because weighing all things, good and bad, the good still outweighs the bad.

Feral Children

Boy, I thought that Tarzan is a pure work of imagination all these years! Till I stumbled upon Stumble's Feral Children. It got my curiosity and surfed more and one of the sites has this short definition.

Children who have apparently been nurtured in the wild by animals. Also, children that by some twist of fate and/or circumstance were raised in a non-human, inhuman or sub-human environment, and because of it did not learn how to communicate and/or behave in a human manner.

There have been, since the 1600s, about 40 cases of feral children which become widely known and documented.

Here are some pics:

If you want to know more, you can visit this site.