It felt like The Amazing Race. Only there were no cameras, and the two men in a hurry did not have six-pack abs like Mark and Rovilson. My brother Bong and I slammed the car doors and brisk-walked (we’re both too out of shape for running) across Davao’s Ilustre Street toward Gaisano South Mall. We needed to complete our mission before 6:30PM, and according to my watch we had less than half-an-hour.

“I think it’s not there anymore,” Kuya Bong said, catching his breath. He’s asthmatic, and he was right: the shop we had hoped would be at the mall had been replaced by a bank! “Wait, I think there’s one at Davao Doctors’ Hospital!” I offered. We scurried a block to the hospital and found the shop there all right—unlit and closed! It was a Sunday after all.

Time was running out.

“Why don’t we get something else?” came the bro’s suggestion. I wasn’t ready for Plan B just yet, so I grabbed my phone to call Irene, high school friend and a walking Google for all things Davao.

“Hey, Irene! Where else can we find a flower shop in Davao at this hour?” Without a moment’s pause, she gave us the next best spot to try. We hurried back to the car with renewed hope.

I held my breath as we descended the escalator to the place where the flower shop was supposed to be. And there it was! They had on display and ready to be picked up two bouquets, both beautifully arranged. We chose the bigger and more expensive arrangement–an assortment of red roses, mums, some orchid-looking pink flower. Only the best for the best lady.

We got to church in time for the last few songs before the sermon. Before delivering the message, the pastor, who is my brother Arnel, asked all the mothers to line up in front to be honored and receive a token from the church. Moms of all ages, shapes, and sizes went forward. Taking our cue from the associate pastors who saw us with the bouquet of flowers, Kuya Bong and I marched to the front with the bouquet. My sister Liza looked relieved to see us (her assignment was to make sure Mama didn’t suspect we were out to surprise her.)

Seeing her children approaching with a bouquet, Mama started crying and stomping her feet, her hands over her mouth. In jest I whispered to my brother, “Assuming naman si Mama… malay n’ya sa iba natin ‘to ibigay! Hehe.” But she was right to assume. She sobbed as we gave her the bouquet and hugged her tight. My sister followed suit with the token from the church. “Happy Mothers’ Day, Inay.”

Mama looked radiant in her pink blouse and her bouquet of flowers. After the service we drove to Jack’s Ridge to have dinner overlooking the city lights. Holding her bouquet like a beauty queen, Mama quipped, “Feeling ko naman si Ruffa Gutierrez ako sa The Buzz!” To which Kuya Arnel retorted, “Hindi ah. Ikaw si Annabelle Rama!”

]]> http://aleksillyserious.wordpress.com/2008/05/15/for-her/feed/ sillyserious07 http://aleksillyserious.wordpress.com/2008/03/11/eyes-age/ http://aleksillyserious.wordpress.com/2008/03/11/eyes-age/#comments Tue, 11 Mar 2008 11:24:01 +0000 sillyserious07 http://aleksillyserious.wordpress.com/?p=275

A middle-aged lady came to the bookshop needing help with the audio bible that she had purchased from us. Being a tech enthusiast (read: geek-wannabe), I was asked by the retail manager to see if I could help address her concern.

Turns out, Lady Customer had issues loading the audio bible files onto her iPod. She brought along her laptop and the audio CDs. I asked to take a look, pulling the laptop screen closer to my eyes and squinting at the small display.

Me: Pasensya na po (Please excuse me), I’m nearsighted.

LC: You should wear glasses then.

Me: Oh, I have contact lenses on.

LC: Ah, si ser nagpapakabata…(sir is trying to look young, I see…)

Me: Bata pa po ako! (I’m still young!)

I might have sounded a tad too defensive. I was simply amused, really. Later she shared that she had problems with her eyesight, which was why she bought an audio bible.

Thank you for clarifying. No offense taken.

While reviewing my journal, I came across these words that I had written around this time last year, before I turned 29.

In a week’s time I’ll be one year short of thirty.

Three-oh… my goodness! One more year as a twentysomething before I become known as a twentysometimeago. Why, just yesterday I was 24, then suddenly tomorrow I’m 30?! Reality sure does bite—and what sharp teeth it has! I’m still recovering from the shock. Every time I shake my head in denial, it bites me harder. Rabid reality.

I had to laugh at my over-reaction to turning the decade bend. Now that I am actually in my big three-oh, it really isn’t so bad. Not bad, at all. Yesterday, I woke up smiling. Looking at my reflection in the mirror I said, Dude, buckle up! It’s gonna be one adventure-filled decade! Or words to that effect—I self-talk in gibberish sometimes.

* * *

When my mom celebrated her 67th birthday last month, she called it another “promotion” from the Heavenly Big Boss. Yesterday was my turn to get “promoted” to my 30s.

I decided to take the day off to ponder this, my new “promotion” into another decade. I packed an overnight backpack and went away to spend some time in solitude—to pray, talk to myself, reflect, and write in my journal.

Before you get visions of a lone figure glowing in spiritual enlightenment, let me confess that the time I spent actually praying and writing was a grand total of two hours, probably less. I slept through most of the afternoon. Then I binged on Yellow Cab pizza and Coke Zero, sang my heart out, talked to myself and God intermittently. When I finally mustered enough momentum to sit my restless thirty-year-old self down, I turned my Bible, hoping to receive something special from the Author of the Book and of my life.

In his mercy, He did speak to me in an unmistakable and special way. My response was soaked in tears and wordless prayers. I unwrapped His lavish gifts of hope, promises, even rebuke and restoration.

Happy are people of integrity,
who follow the law of the Lord.

Oh, that my actions would constantly reflect your principles!
Then I will not be disgraced
when I compare my life with your commands.

Your word is a lamp to guide my feet
and a light for my path.
I’ve promised it once, and I’ll promise it again:
I will obey your righteous regulations.

PSALM 119:1, 5-6, 105-106 (NLT)

* * *

This post concludes my blog marathon. Sorry if I stopped to catch my breath more times than I would have wanted. But thank you for sticking it out and encouraging me with your interaction Wherever you are in life’s “promotions,” may you take time to celebrate the faithfulness and love of the Life-Giver!

It’s my last day as a twentysomething, and—thanks to Bijoi—I’m blogging a meme

The rules are easy. Just post 10 things that recently made you happy! Then tag 10 people and force them to post this meme on their blogs…

1. Fly a kite with friends! See it crash. Fly it again! Land it, then launch it again! Jump up and down like a kid. Then peel sun-burnt skin days after.
2. Bump cars!
3. Make my mother laugh and cry within seconds.
4. Take vitamins and feel like a responsible adult.
5. Play “I Hope You Dance” over and over again, singing it to myself until I memorize the words.
   I Hope You Dance - performed by Ronan Keating | Words here.
6. Stare at the sky and see that it’s the most beautiful shade of blue.
7. Make friends laugh with impromptu jokes and one-liners that I never remember.
8. Take a deep breath, pound on the computer, and end up with a decent verse.
9. Discover an answer to a whispered prayer and be amazed at a loving Father’s display of amazing grace and tender mercies.
10. Be surprised by friends on the eve of my 30th birthday!

And now it’s your turn to make your happy list: Bijoi (round 2!), Gladys, Nalani, Ruben, Beng, Bespren, Gracia, Jen, Misha, Ptr. Bong.

now silence sits between the two of us
and my heart vaguely remembers
a season not too long ago when
i would but gasp a question
and you sigh your reply

now silence sits between the two of us
these spaces between my fingers
tingle with the faint recollection of
your clasp, your presence, the bygone joy
of hands and wills interlocked

now silence sits between the two of us
we’re so close, yet a world of choices apart
aware of the other’s every breath but
never, as once we did, hearing
the beating of the other’s heart

The child in me came out to play last Saturday. And, boy, did the little rascal have a blast! It didn’t matter that, the next day, he left in his tracks a blob of sore muscles and sun-burnt skin–all on a body about to hit thirty in a few days…

But that’s getting ahead of the story.

Yesterday some of my co-workers and I took Jelle, our Dutch guest, to the highlands of Tagaytay. We wanted him to see the famed Taal volcano—“the volcano within a lake within a volcano within a lake… within an island within a country within a continent within a planet.” (Okay, so I stretched the usual tourism spiel.)

On the grassy field of Picnic Grove, overlooking Taal volcano, all seven of us had a hearty lunch of salad, tofu with veggies, pork and chicken adobo, and mango float—gastronomic delights summoned to mouth-watering existence by Beng’s culinary magic!

From where we sat, we could see the Tagaytay sky dotted with all sorts of shapes, and on the ground, beneath the colorful specks, people craned their necks and tugged at strings. Old and young, they all looked so happy. I decided I wanted part of that action. So after lunch, I set out to do something I had never done since eight: Fly a kite!

(To be continued)

Now that I’m entering my 30s, I’m finding out that one fun thing about being almost-old is having the “right” to say things like, Hay, ang mga kabataan nga naman ngayon (What’s with young people nowadays)… and then rant about how the younger folk are indecisive, apathetic, lacking depth, irresponsible—you know, all those things grown-ups used to say about me and my generation not too long ago.

While such observations about the youth may hold some truth, we have also seen that when their imagination is captured and their boundless energy properly directed, the youth can be a powerful catalyst for positive change.

The “interfaith” rally today in Makati calling for President GMA’s resignation did not have a shortage of participants from the youth sector. One particular group that was featured in the evening news had me laughing out loud—not in mockery, mind you, but in sheer admiration of their youthful spirit. As the report showed, it had started to drizzle during the rally. This prompted some creative young protesters to chant, “Rain, rain go away! Isama na si GMA!” Haha! How clever is that!

Weeks ago, just when whistle-blower Jun Lozada had come out in the open, I saw a “man-on-the-street” interview of a female college student. I suppose the question was about the youth’s response to Lozada’s sordid account of massive corruption in government. With fire in her eyes, College Girl declared, “The youth of today are not apathetic. We will not tolerate a corrupt government. If necessary, we will not hesitate to take to the streets carrying our tarps!”

Tarps? I did not get it at first, then I burst out laughing! Oh yes, placards and streamers are soooo yesterday. Tarpaulin banners or “tarps”. Now there’s a cool thing to brandish in rallies. And they’re waterproof too. Talk about being hip and practical!

Okay. This is just me warming up to being on the other side of the age demographic fence

My coworkers and I took a visiting Dutch guy to the TriNoMa mall tonight. Over crepe and hot drinks, he asked us about the Tagalog translation for good night. And we were stumped. The closest we could come up with was magandang gabi—which is actually good evening.

Hmm… Ano nga ba?

He ended up teaching us how to say good night in Dutch instead. If I remember correctly what he wrote on the table napkin, it’s welrusten. Now remembering how it’s spelled is one thing; getting the pronunciation right is quite another. I tried hard but couldn’t quite get it right.

I remember from one of my college classes that past a certain age, we become deaf to certain consonant sounds that are not in our native language. Maybe that cut-off is thirty.

One more week to go before I say welrusten to my twenties and wake up to a new decade.

(Got a text from my Dutch friend after posting this entry. It’s “welterusten.” I knew it didn’t look quite right! Aaagh.)

Imagine this. Tech experts predict that, based on Moore’s Law, by 2020 it is possible to have a portable storage gadget, say an iPod, with a capacity large—no, humongous!—enough to hold every movie, every TV show, every sound recording ever known to humankind.

Wow. Something about that prospect seems scary. What exactly, I can’t quite put a finger on it yet…