Elvie

 I have this friend in college named Elvie. She is petite and could wear any color and look totally hip. She is so fashionable, I swear she could wear a rag and still look good. She knew exactly how to mix and match. She can go from funky to classy anyday depending on her wake up mood.

I remembered Elvie today because we moved to an area in the office where I am sitting close to Cris. She reminds me so much of Elvie, and she is not even petite at all. She wore an electric blue evening ‘date’ blousy ensemble over denims and she pulled it off without any of the men giving her nasty remarks for such a sexy number.

I guess this is what they call the ‘X’ factor. How do I get that? Does it take a lot of long hours in the morning or do they just have ‘IT’. The ability to blend into the clothes without even trying.

Fashion models look good because some fashion designers do this for them. But, everyday non top model like me. How about me? 

Oh, geese louise Cris. Please stop making me feel such a slob. Oh, one day, I should take lessons from her. She is so put together.

hahaha. hahay, new ambitions coming.

Spurs

I got the result of my ankle xray yesterday. The nurse gave me a call to inform me of the finding.  I was such an ‘idiot’ not to ask her to repeat the terms I couldn’t make out. I think I was just happy she did not make it sound so serious. I understood the part she said about “no arthritis” loud and clear.

They found spurs on both your ankle but your left foot looks bad. You need to see your doctor soon so he can explain to you the remedies that can be done.

My doctor appointment is on the 14th of December. That is how far away appointments are. Dios Mio San Antonio Spurs. =(

Anyway, I started to do my own research. Ankle spurs are common in overweight women in their 40s. Home remedies can be done like stretching and using orthotics churvah. For chronic cases, surgery may have to be the solution.

I have the symptoms listed on the mayo clinic site. It is up to my doctor now to prescribe what needs to be done for my case. Meanwhile, I will just have to get informed and try some stretches for now.

This is a good excuse to get new shoes too. *wink*

A New Day

I couldn’t sleep so I decided to write my thoughts down.

Today is Basti’s birthday. Insoy decided to cook him breakfast. He is sweet when he wants to be. This is him feeling guilty for the other night.

It was horrible. He lashed out on all of us and wanted to kill himself with our kitchen knife. We had to rush and put them all away. I had to call a neighbor and ask for help. It was like a scene from a movie where everyone would be glued to their seat and wait for ‘what’s next?’.

It was exhausting the long talk that lasted forever. Yet, I am still feeling cautious. He says he is sorry but the trauma of the episode still lingers. If I sleep, I can’t help but to think of what may happen. His mind could slip and it will start all over again. I am paranoid. Or perhaps going crazy.

Yet, I know I can’t live like this. This has to stop and it stops right now.

And so I will start the day with house cleaning. I might do some rearranging. It will erase the scene from the other night (in my head). Then I will go to the gym and do a 2 hour workout only because I need to get the anger out of my system. Then, I will attend the 12 o’clock mass for Basti and meet up with Fr. Gilbert for a confession.

The hub has taken time off today as well. We will be talking to a counselor. I know it will all be up to us but we just need to sort this out together with professional help.

Insoy is going through a fighting stage. Like a lion perhaps who have been in a cage (protected) for a long time wanting his freedom. I am sure he misses Cebu and the comfort that family was just a block away. He requested that he talked to his grandfather the other night and he was in tears. It broke my heart.

Tough love. How tough should it be?

He has agreed that we talk to someone (another person) for him to let out all his feelings. I was once in this stage where he is. I was only 12 then. I know this will make him stronger just like it did to me. We will have to experience this with him.  Just like how my parents were with me when I was in this ‘aweful’ stage.

We should have been better prepared. I missed the signs.

Today, we will celebrate Basti. The one who said ‘Mom, Kuya is in puberty stage now. The “uptight” saputon stage.’ I am glad that he understands. He is turning 11. It will only be a few years when he will get to this stage too. I should be better prepared.

So today, we shield each other with love. Love is the key. We will get through this just by assuring each other of our love. For someone who does not know how to express it, it is about time I do.

Insoy and Basti, today, you will both have all my attention and lots of loving. Bantay lang gyud mo. It will be suffocating! <evil grin>

 

*** and to my family and friends who have been with us in this ordeal. thank you for all the love and support. ***

 

Our Battle (Part 4)

Morning came. The first text I sent him was ‘I miss my eldest son. I hope he misses me too’. I hated to be so desperate. Yet, I was.
Roland wasted no time to drive around the block to search for the ‘lost sheep’.

He knocked at Kuya Gaby’s place. He told him, Insoy spent the night at Papatoetoe. They were together, thank God. But when they arrived, he ran off to the park. He knew there was something wrong. Insoy did not open up to his friends.

He found him at the park. He sat there alone.

Roland asked him about breakfast. He looked very haggard. He was still adamant about being on his own.

Roland told him about our plan to call the police and force him to come home because he was only 14. 2 more years and he can be on his own. He needed to go to school so he can plan his life better. There was no way he can stay at friend’s houses forever. The government will put him in a home somewhere far where we can’t reach him. He cannot let his happen.

He ran away. He did not want to listen. He didn’t look at Roland’s eyes. He was angry and tired. I know he was. He didn’t even bring his toothbrush with him. One thing for sure, he was very tired.

When Roland came home without him, I knew from the talk, that this will soon be over. It was just a matter of waiting. Another night, 2 days perhaps, a week. Who knows?
I texted him the second time. “We are going to church. Do you have your gel and hair dryer where you are at? Dad says you look very haggard.”

I went inside the bathroom to take a bath. I heard my mobile ringing and had to run out. I knew it was him. He wrote. “Should I come home now?”

I was elated he texted me. I rang him and he answered. I asked ‘Where are you?’. He answered, he was at the mailbox. Our mailbox. He was about to cry but I knew he did not want me to hear that. He put down the phone. I asked Roland to pick him up. It was 3 houses away through the driveway.

I was at the door waiting. I hugged him when he came in. He did not look at me. He did not hug back. I expected that. He went straight to his room. Took a bath. And we went through the motions, silently. We did not have to say anything to each other.

What mattered was that he came home.

I am writing this down here. The drama of my life. Because yes, one day, I would like to come back to it here and remember that it was not easy. The battle we all have to fight. No one wins. We just continue to hurt ourselves when we stand our ground and never give in to forgive.

We have not talked about it since. We watched the Pacquiao-Cotta fight pretending that we didn’t have our own battles to fight.

One day, we will have to talk about this.  We are not ready yet.

We had a feast for lunch and dinner. Perhaps that is how we prepare for the next battle. Ah, life. Who said it will be easy?

Our Battle (Part 3)

All was still. I was tired. It was a long day. Now I had to stop pretending it did not hurt. I prayed hard for the Holy Spirit to guide his thoughts. I prayed hard for the angels to keep him safe. I prayed hard for a soul to guide him back home.

We did not have news now of where he was going to stay. We just have to rely on prayers and faith.
Mom sent us a long email and she said ‘you need to find the lost sheep”.

I was not ready to talk to anyone. Roland thinks I was too strict. I think he was too lenient. There was no middle line. We did not fight over this. There was nothing we could do. It has happened. We needed to have a plan yet we did not have a plan at all. We waited. We just sat there. Waiting until sleep took over.

He slept at the lounge, awake most times. Hoping that he will return home that night. It didn’t matter what time. He was ready to open the door for him.

I slept in our room. I texted him “Good night! We never abandoned you. You abandoned us. I hope you get enough sleep. Tomorrow will be another day. You can hate us all you want but you have our blood running in your veins. No matter what happens. We never stopped loving you.”

I had a dreamless sleep just how I wanted it to be. I wanted morning to come soon.

Our Battle (Part 2)

It was getting dark. Dinner was cooking. Roland was still heading the damage control.

He revisited the park. Insoy was still there. He parked the car at a safe place where he could see him. He was at the skate park. He jumped the track like a pro. He did his stunts. That was how he coped up. He skateboarded like crazy. Ever since he broke a glass partition, he was never allowed to skateboard by a ten foot pole at our flat. This was freedom for him — to skateboard ?

Roland knew Insoy was not ready. He did not even try to speak to him. He just watched from a distance. Making sure he was alright and his friends were with him.

I knew it broke his heart. He is the emotional one. Between us two, I know I would have a better grip of my emotion. I was waiting for him to breakdown, yet, the hub amazed me. Maybe it was in the knowing that we were in a safe neighborhood. Maybe it was the confidence that his friends were raised up well enough to be able to bring Insoy back to us. Nonetheless, the worry loomed like forever.

Where was he going to spend the night? Who will he share his dinner with? What would his friends’ parents think of us? Why did I still feel cold towards him? Am I normal? How did we create this monster? Why did he have to take anger management from me? Is he our son? Was it legal in NZ to have a 14 year old leave his home? What will happen next? What should we do?

I ran away too. I ran away to a place I knew how to handle. I played cafe world. I took refuge in the knowing I had control.

In a perfect world, our son would never walk out the door. In a perfect world, we would have a perfect life.

I texted him. “We are having dinner now. I hope your friends would care enough to cook for you the food you love to eat. We build the boundaries for you to learn discipline. Without boundaries, could you imagine how you will turn out? Think about it long and hard when you are alone and no friend will be there for you like family always do. Enjoy your freedom while it last.”

I hated myself more than I hated him. I was selfish and did not act like a parent at all.

 

Our Battle (Part 1)

It was bound to happen. A head-strong mom and an equally head-strong son sharing the same space.  He was playing his guitar ever since he woke up.

It was a Saturday and it was the family’s scheduled cleaning day.

I was busy with the laundry, Roland doing the grocery, Basti with his folding. Insoy still in his room playing the guitar. Then me with my cleaning, Basti with his folding “still”, and Roland now with his cooking.

A tired, overworked and irritated mom lashed out the line ‘if you can’t do chores in the house and follow the rules, you better pack up and leave’. And so pack up and leave he did.

My 14 year old son didn’t have second thoughts. He stepped out of his room and walked out of the house with a knap sack with whatever clothes he could fit in. No money on him. A tattered rubber shoes and his low on battery mobile. He left his school uniform and books. He left with only a sure thing in his mind. He was never coming back.

Roland caught up with him. He said he wanted freedom. He was not coming home forever. He was not our son anymore. Of course, it broke the hub’s heart. I was stone cold as ever. It was a matter of who is going to give up. I had the upper hand. He had nothing on him.

We had David and Normita on the phone, Therese on chat, my mom and Joy on text. They were behind us.

He had his korean classmates and Filipino schoolmates behind him.

I pity the hub who was torn between prodigal son and prodigal mom.

I texted him ‘We are having shrimps (your favorite) for lunch. It is a pity you are not here to eat it with us *wink*’. He did not reply.

Oh, I did feel guilty. A different kind of guilt. Guilty that I cannot find the love in me to even ask for a truce. I was just so angry and I prayed for nothing but to see him suffer and experience the pain of not having a family. I wanted him to sweat in hunger and the coldness of being out the house with no shelter. I cannot bend down now and I wasn’t going to ever.

4 hours later, Roland went to find him again. Hoping that he would have cleared his mind of his anger. He was with his Korean friend, biking in the park. He was a picture of total happiness and freedom.

Roland went up to him. He had the same response. “I am not your son anymore. I now have my freedom. I now have my own rules”

Roland came home upset. I still could not find the heart to even talk to Insoy. I know he could not go far. He does not know how to ride a bus. He didn’t have money with him. He is left with his school (a fence away) and neighbors across the street to run to.

No ceasefire was going to happen.

No Compromise

Last year, I had this grand plan of networking so that I would have better chances of getting employed on a 5 months work to residence visa. So, I joined devotees of the Senor Sto Nino. We met 3rd Friday of each month for prayers and Sundays nearing the Feast of the Sto Nino. Auckland is host to the Sinulog festivities and I am helping organize it. We will be on our 16th year.

Then came the opportunity to write a monthly online column for the Katilingbang Bisaya sa New Zealand (Society of Bisaya Speakers in NZ)

As if it was not enough, I volunteered to help a group organizing regular trainings for migrants to upskill in IT through Software Testing. This to help them get their permanent residencies at a time when jobs in engineering and accounting is scarce.

Added to the fact that I have to fit in gymn and dance classes to my daily routine to get my weight to a healthy level.

Recently, projects in the pipeline are for a big IT school and a migrant monthly paper. I have been able to forge new friendships. But sometimes it saddens me to not have time enough to chat with the people who really matters. Those that have helped us settle here. Yet, I am happy to see people benefitting from the prayers and the trainings and the stories we have collectively pursued.

It breaks my heart when people ask me to be there for them but I could not because I am now to busy.  I should always make people matter, otherwise, what is the purpose in all of this.  There should be no compromises. 24 hours in a day is now not enough.

Be Still!

Be Still! This I repeat to myself when I see my 14 year old son transform his hair to “manga” hair. No not the fruit, but the japanese comic book genre usually in black and white where they have all those over stylized characters mostly refered to as ‘anime’.

Our grocery list includes a wax specifically for Manga hair and Lynx cologne (which is probably the twin of Axe in PI).

I could of course stop buying him this stuff but that wouldn’t stop him from using his dad’s cologne or mine. He could also just start creating a gel made out of cooked rice and glue and that would cost me heaps too (ala Dexter’s laboratory)

As it is, he uses my hair dryer and iron. He wakes up early and does a ritual of drying his hair & ironing it to style, then comes the wax part that seems to take forever. If we wanted him to come with us to some event, we have had to tell him at least 2 hours prior so he would have time to complete his hair do. The hub calls it his mini antennas.

He twitches his head as he walks which really looks so Gay for me. He thinks it is cool. I was once a teenager and I did crazy things to my hair but Insoy tops the hair category.

No typhoon or tsunami will get his hair down. *kidding* of course.

Oh, for the sake of vanity, I close my eyes and keep still hopeful that 5 years from now, his obsession will somehow die down and we would laugh at all his pictures come his wedding day. Oh, I can’t wait. :p

 

 

Carlotta Casals Gallegos

Happy Birthday La.

It has been 16 years but I still terribly miss you.

Your cooking, your kind of loving and most of all your fire within.

Wherever I go, you remain (pointing to my heart) with me.