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.

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.

Jin’s SUN Warriors

Winter this year have been quite mean and so now that spring is here, we couldn’t wait to get out and enjoy the SUN. Coming from the tropics, you would expect that we would have had enough of the heat but I guess our skins and spirit will always long for days out in the SUN.

We have been lucky to have wet weekdays and SUNNY weekends.

Oh, and for 2 weekends in a row, we got our dose of SUN vitamin.

A week before, we went hiking along the rain forest of Waitakere. It was still chilly but we can’t wait to get out. Laagan we are.

And this week, we had fun at the Farmer’s Market of Matakana. It was a lovely SUNNY day. We had lunch across Goat Island and stopped by a pottery barn. We had gelato at Charlie’s and had a fun time out in the SUN up the winery.

Hmmm, and we certainly did have Jin in mind when we took this warrior photo because I cannot bear to disappoint our friend who wanted an updated blog. =) mwah

Here is the link to more photos on Facebook.

Caligula and Arwana

Kevin is Roland’s 6:00 pm. He works together with Peter (an NZ soap opera dakilang extra). They are tasked to move Kevin so he does not get bed sores and give him a shower or sponge bath.

Kevin is a giant of a man – an ex rugby player. It takes a lot of muscles to move him about but it is not the pulling and the pushing that is a challenge but rather the mood swings and the grumpiness that his caregivers will have to endure.

One day, he will love you to pieces, even gives you the honor to be the one to clean his dentures. Yes, cleaning his dentures is a task only given to the one he favors. But the next day, he will go totally balistic and if you are not careful, a punch at the waist or the neck or any place his hugeness of an arm lands. While he can only deliver uncoordinated punches, it is the heaviness of his arms that you will have to escape away from. Imagine moving him and restraining his arms at the same time. Good luck to that.

And so he is Caligula to us. The meanest of them all. He is critical to everything you do to him and mumbles words that you can comprehend only to be swear words starting with ‘rubbish’.

Many caregivers (that I have talked to) would hands down agree that it is not the patient that is difficult to work with BUT the family. Kevin lives with his wife which we have given the monicker of ‘Arwana’ the fish. Her eyes are like the arwanas’, gawking at your every move. She is quite haughty and I suppose she is doing this as part of her servitude to the hub.

On a good day, Arwana would cut out old newspaper clippings that showed articles with Kevin on it. Kevin looked really handsome and kind then. Photos of her with her flight attendant friends on tour where the airline tooked them. She was tall, already haughty looking but was always with company. With friends at the park, with family on a boat, with Kevin beside her…

Oh, and she always wore dark macabre outfits. It enhances her fair skin and ivory hair. (very conservative, I reckon)

She fuzzes about how Peter and Roland would put Caligula into a hoist for pulling him up. She follows your footsteps to make sure you have clean feet or socks. Either that or she just loves bossing people around. The work is a challenge with her checking their every move. Yet, Peter and Roland have withstood the longest where others could only handle for a day. They found friendship. Roland helped Peter get the top caregiver award. Peter humors him with his television stints and auditions (“never the lead role, buddy!” that is his line)

As for Caligula and Arwana, oh well, they are just characters in this journey.

Fr. Mary

Father Mary fills 1 hour of Roland’s Saturdays starting at 8:00 am. I think he is really Murray (it is a common name here) or Mari (as this could be a man’s name) but everyone calls him Mary or at least that is how they pronounce his name. Fr. Mary is 92 years old. He was an Irish soldier at 20 and fought some war. He got his foot endured in battle so he was moved to a farm in Italy where he worked and they made cheese to be sent out to feed the soldiers. It was only at 32 when he found his calling to priesthood. He spent most of his masses at parishes in Australia. He is a Redemptorist priest. He also spent some of his years in Samoa before moving to New Zealand. The Mother of Perpetual Help parish in Glendowie is home to him and his other brothers in Christ. A younger priest takes care of the older priests. On Sundays, they hear the 8:00 am mass at the backside of the pulpit. There are about 6 of them of the same age and is not able to say mass anymore. They are sent via wheelchair to hear mass and brought back to their rooms after receiving communion. Fr. Mary stays in his bed all day. He has a television set in his room and during meal time, the younger priest wheels them to the dinner table where all the priest gather and eats together. They do not have family to visit them. In fact, the parishioners may not have even seen them. Fr Mary is very familiar with the Filipino culture as the Redemptorist have been very active setting us parishes in the Philippines. He knows a lot of Filipino priests and some few ’swear’ words that his friends have taught him. He takes his bath by himself but Roland needs to accompany him because one of the older priest slipped in the bathroom and died. Now, the house rule includes always having someone around when a priest (as old as Fr. Mary) does their bath. Oh yes, it is only on Saturday mornings that he does his shower. On other days, he is given a warm sponge bath by another caregiver.

Fr Mary can’t wait to be called up to heaven. When that day comes, he says he will be very happy to meet Peter at the gates. He can’t wait to be home.

Meet Anna

Anna is Roland’s 5pm. She lives in Epsom by herself and she is 95 years old. His grandson visits him daily, joins her for dinner and leaves. He says she is old enough to take care of herself. (grrrh) Indeed! As Anna would always say — “I am not old.” period.

The first day Roland came to her house. Her neighbors came to check on her. Making sure she was safe with this newbie. They watch each others back. Lovely, isn’t it?

Anyway, she is a fit and sane golden girl. She just needs help with the cleaning of her kitchen. She has a huge kitchen after all and you would think she was into parties during her prime. (It will remain a guess).

She fusses a lot about her kitchen. Bones should be wrapped in tissue paper and placed in plastic containers, kept in the refrigerator until it is time to throw the trash. This to keep the trash odorless. (amazing!)

Only 1 drop of liquid soap. One drop per washing. Manual washing is to be done to save on electricity. And she keeps track of her spending too. Smart woman.

You cannot fault her for being super critical. How can one not fall for her ‘Oh, I hope I did not hurt your feelings’ line everytime she starts to lecture.

Roland fits in cooking, cleaning and closing her home in one hour. Roland cooks her soup and making sure that the medicine is dropped in. She takes her prescriptions this way. While having her dinner with his grandson, Roland starts cleaning her oven and keeps a mental list of all her requests or rather demands.  And oh, even the clearing of the table has a set routine.

After dinner, the grandson leaves and Anna (or Nana) goes to her room and Roland completes the kitchen clean up, turns off all the lights and closes the house. The locks are through a series of number codes to close the doors. She is literally locked in her own home.

Another person comes in the morning to open up and clean the house for her. And what does Nana do all day? She watches the news. Walks in her garden, and talks to her friendly neighbors. She refuses to think of her age. She says she will out live her 28 year old grand son. She walks gracefully. She tells Roland that she was a dancer.

She choses topic to talk about but never about her life. The news, yes. The neighbors, yes. The weather, yes. The grand son and the girl friend she never met, yes. But never about how she lived her life.

Only a picture of her children sits by her bed side. Her house is very pretty (clean and in order) but stripped off of things that links to her. A photo album perhaps, photos of her husband perhaps or trinkets that tells a story of her — you will not find there.

Maybe that is the secret to her life. To never hold on to things and people. Or keep memories. (I will just have to pressume)

For what we know is only that she was a dancer and that the kitchen is her sanctuary.

And oh how she loves Roland’s bisaya soup. The version Roland made for her made her sweat. =)