Inverse Point

Today is the day...

2007-09-09T10:05:00.000+08:00

Today is the television debut of High School Musical 2 in Disney Channel. My oldest daughter Sam is very much excited. She have waited long enough for this and today is the culmination of all her sacrifices. Earth movement will stop at our home at around 7:30 in the evening.

Ever since she saw the first High School Musical, she got addicted to it like I was to blogging. She had various school items with High School Musical emblem and patches on it. Pictures of Troy Bolton and Gabriella decorate some of her personal belongings. We had a DVD of the movie as well as the CD and minus one of the songs in the movie. Sam also affected our youngest Nicole about her fascination on the musical hit. Nicole also owns stuff with High School Musical characters on it. We had seen the movie ten times as I can imagine. Sometimes I feel that I was sucked into the set when I hear my daughters sing those beautiful and catchy songs.

Today also is the 9th anniversary of the relationship that started it all. September 9 was regarded as family holiday same as the birthdays of our children, for this day, 9 years ago, my wife Thess accepted the love I had offerred to her.

As Sam is eagerly awaiting for the new songs on the debut of High School Musical tonight, I am also eagerly awaiting the songs I will be singing in my cool ascend to high spirit tonight (musical or not).

This could be the start of something new.

Early to Bed

2007-08-30T12:53:00.000+08:00

For three consecutive nights, my children (Sam & Nicole) were not able to comprehend the house rule of going to bed early. For the first two nights my wife was very angry at both of them, making them cry before getting their sleep. On the third night, again, same thing happened, but this time it was my turn to get furious. It was half past nine already and was way beyond their sleeping time when i entered our bedroom and saw my children still watching reruns of Tom and Jerry cartoons. I was not totally mad at them but I thought it is a better opportunity for me to be more authoritative over them. I wanted them to respect and be more cautious and aware over certain house rules.

I turned on the lights and switched off the tv. My children sensing danger hurriedly acted like they were sleeping hours ago. I slowly raised my voice as I overturned them. I was firm and dictator-like that I resemble my previous supervisor. I wanted to use reverse psychology on them so I asked them to stay awake and accompany me to watch tv until the wee hours of the morning. Then they started crying and grasping for their mom who was the ultimate hero in their eyes at that moment.

I took them downstairs including my wife and turned on the tv and allowed them to watch their favorite channel Cartoon Network. To my amazement, Nicole, my youngest stopped crying and actually started watching the show. My reverse psychology took its effect on me. However Sam was feeling guilty on all counts so she continued her silent whimpers and sniffs. Ok, I'll work on Sam first so I thought.

I portrayed power up to the point that I wanted to teach them my point. Then my wife gave the signal, I was able to explain to them the purpose of all this early to bed house rule. Sam started her monotonous apologies while Nicole still watched the TV. I saw the sincerity in Sam's eyes even though it swelled a bit, so I instantly forgave her. When it was all over, I hugged both of my kids and showed them my affection.

After the incident, it was never hard for anybody in the house to get them to sleep during their bed time. Even during Fridays and Saturdays, they are now inclined to sleeping early rather than watching TV late. My kids knew the consequences of such actions and for sure they are not willing to pay for it the second time around.

Speak your mind but let your heart do the talking...

2007-08-16T10:56:00.001+08:00

Hi!

I really don’t know how to start this. It somehow pains me to accept the fact that today is my last working day here and leaving a nice place such as HICAP is truly agonizing. But knowing that there are many talented and honest individuals here than there is in Congress, it somehow makes me feel delighted.

This may come as a surprise for many, because I was not very vocal about this. My apologies for those who have been affected by my decision. I kept my silence as long as I can so as to lessen the hurt of letting go, as I used that much needed silence for myself also.

Having friends like you are good reasons for me to love my job, and working with intelligent and lively colleagues justifies it even further. That is why I am truly honored and grateful to be working with you all. Despite some frustrations and struggles along the way, I’ve learned a lot from all of you and it made me a better person today than I used to be. However, it is sad to note that having great friends here was not enough to make me hold on to my job a little longer. Like everybody else, I too have a breaking point.

As we journey through our lives, we will notice that the talents we have are being used to make a better environment. I have come to believe that I have contributed my talent to HICAP willingly and without hesitations and so do I noticed with some dedicated engineers here. HICAP is composed of talented individuals willing to share their knowledge and expertise for the company, that is why HICAP continues to progress. However I do not see myself being of greater service anymore to HICAP and HDD in particular. I do not see myself being part of those major talents anymore. Thus I seek a better place.

A place where I can contribute more and use my talents efficiently, that place may not be better than HICAP but it may be better for me. It may not be as big as HICAP but it may be big enough for me. The road to this better place might be narrower and darker but I believe at this crossroad, will lead me towards my dream. I just hope most of my friends here will understand this bold step I am taking.

Aside from having my family, HICAP became the next big thing for me. That is why saying goodbyes to all of you, left my heart weeping in sadness. I have learned to love the people around me as I develop friendship and brotherhood in almost all the departments here. I have found happiness, camaraderie and support in all of you – and these make saying goodbye painful than I ever imagined.

I wanted to extend my heartfelt thanks to the following people who made my stay here comfortable and memorable…

… to the true-blooded Server people (Sir Erwin, Sir Rio, Sir Sam and all those under them in one way or another). You guys are the greatest thing that ever happened to me here. I may not have reached what I accomplished without the help of each and every one of you. I developed not only friends but family here; I gained not only supporters but allies. As I am the last original Server production engineer to leave HICAP, I kept my heart where I wanted it to be - Server to the very end. I am grateful I have known each one of you.

… to my WRC family, you kept me floating when I was drowning, you kept me warm when I was chilling… I have shown you what I am and what I am capable of doing and you made me special for that. You made me cry at times, you also made me laugh always and one thing I will never forget, you made me a better person. Because of this, you occupy a soft spot inside of me that makes me hard to let go. You have shown me the value of unity and team spirit, when a chain is weak, everything else is affected. This department of just a few people made me realize that we should never underestimate the power of a dedicated few. God bless you all.

… to my HDD friends, a department full of dedicated individuals, I wanted to say thank you for all the favors, the chats, the emails, the laughs, the meetings and everything else in between all of them. I’ve got hundreds of thousands of memories that I will bring and most of it is with you guys. From the staffs, clerks, line leaders, operators, technicians, engineers and supervisors, I have gained much confidence in myself because of dealing with people like you. You have been a part of me and forever will be.

… to my Contamination Team, I simply take my hats off to you guys. You are one hell of a group of geeky and colorful individuals. I have great memories with you especially those who have seen my hilarious and entertaining newsletters. You always kept on asking for more. Thanks for appreciating it. More power and good luck to all of you guys!

… to my Bowling Team-mates, being part of this group of very athletic individuals made me realize that life is not all about work and family, need to play once in a while also. Being with you made me discover that I can be the best in what I wanted to do if I put my heart into it. Good luck in your next tournaments, remember, work hard but play harder. Bring home the bacon!

… to my blogging friends, I may forget how you look like but I will never forget how you made me feel proud about my writing skills (if there is, hehe). My passion for writing will make me keep in touch with you. Like you, I write not to impress but to express… let our minds speak but allow our hearts do the talking.

… to my fellow basketball addicts, I will surely miss those little leagues we have and that wonderful bonding we developed. I have made friends here that I never thought of having, I have gained respect here that I never realized I would earn. Keep on dribbling guys and remember life is like a basketball game… need to have the vision to see what is going on and the agility to act and counteract on these unpredictable situations. For the love of the game!

… to my classmates in Sucat and Alabang shuttles, you were my inspiration when I took on the frantic essay on Sleepless in Shuttle. For all those comedy scenes that I have witnessed, it made me realize that laughter is still the best medicine.

… to my airsoft friends, sorry I was not able to buy those Armored Personnel Carriers that I was suppose to buy to match your armaments, maybe next time… hehehe. Beng-beng!

… to my six sigma buddies, I am grateful for my manager for introducing me this wonderful concept of six sigma and eventually gaining friends like you in the process. Sir Zaldy already left us a week ago but the lessons we gained will be treasured and nurtured for a long time. I hope to see you holding that certificates of being the 1st batch of HICAP greenbelts.

… to my ISO family, what can I say that is greater than thank you. Uhmm, I know – GREATEST THAN THANK YOU! HAHAHA!!! You guys were superb!

… to my classmates in blood donation, you guys are the real heroes. You are more than willing to give something without expecting anything in return. It really is fulfilling to know that a little sacrifice meant a lot to a total stranger. Continue to donate blood my friends and more power to HOP.

… to my friends in other departments, you know who you are, hehehe. Being my friend is one thing and being your friend is another. I am glad you gave me the opportunity to show you who I am. You may have doubted me before but it’s ok with me, the important thing is you have received this mail thus I consider you as one of the influential persons here in HICAP.

Though I am still looking for the good in goodbye, I just come to believed that I will have friends situated far away that I will always treasure for being part of what I am right now. As Henry Thoreau would put it, “Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes.”

Finally I have a confession to make – that I found satisfaction and happiness in my work here. My life would be half empty if I would neglect HICAP in my whole existence. Truly, no one can compare this family to another. Thank you for keeping me and nurturing me. Now, it is time for me to move on.

May God bless and keep us and our love ones.

Humbly,

Edong

http://inversetutuldok.blogspot.com/

The 'S' Note

2007-08-06T18:56:00.000+08:00

Two weeks ago, Sam underwent a terrible exam week. It was a test after a test after a test. These tests were given before Quarterly Periodical Exams much like the Prelims in College. Teachers called it Mastery Exam Week, I called it nightmare.

Since my wife was not on a regular office work right now, she took the job of reviewing Sam for her ‘nightmare week’. As for me, my job was to render overtime at work to compensate for the lack of resources we currently have. It was hard for me to check on Sam’s lectures and monitor her academic performance due to my work schedule. The least I could do was to give her continuous support and fatherly advice.

On one occasion, before going to work, I took the liberty of fixing Sam’s school bag and lunch box. It has been a while since I made up her bag and ‘merienda’, therefore I was savoring every moment of it. Then, a little thing crossed into my head. You know in those Tom and Jerry cartoons where an idea just suddenly popped into Tom’s head, this tiny lighted bulb suspending itself in mid-air, yes, I did experienced that. Actually, the idea was not new, however I haven’t done that before and so I asked myself, why shouldn’t I try it.

I took a small piece of Post-It note and wrote a tiny message to my daughter.

Dear Ate Sam,

Good luck on your exams, I know you can make it.

Love,

Daddy

There was this mixed feeling of excitement and fear that somebody might spoil my plan. I carefully placed the note inside her lunch box on top of her sandwich. I was then thinking how this simple note would affect my kid during her exam, hopefully in a very positive way. When I finally zipped it up, I made my silent prayer.

Lord,

I wanted to help my daughter during this time, but I am having some difficulty adjusting my work schedule. This is the least I could do for her. Send your angels to watch over her in class. Please give her a clear mind to think and a good heart to understand, as we lift all glory and honor in your mighty name.

Amen.

When I went home that night, Sam anxiously but secretly narrated the note she had seen inside her lunch box. She teasingly made me concur that I made it all up, with that matching smile of hers and up and down movement of her eyebrows. She said that she showed the note to her girl buddies and kept it in her wallet.

Last week, the exam results came in. Sam perfected seven out of eight subjects that were at stake. I couldn’t be more satisfied than that. My wife claimed that it was her mentoring that did the job.

However, Sam begged to disagree, “It was the note, Mom!”.

And she secretly winked at me.

On Being Humble

2007-07-27T10:59:00.000+08:00

Sixteen years ago, one sunny morning of March, our neighbor who was browsing a morning tabloid, called the attention of my father. My father, who was busy hanging up our wet clothes in the clothes’ line, checked what the rush is all about. Our ecstatic neighbor claimed that he came across my name on the newspaper that he is reading. Perplexed, my father ceased what he is doing and examined the paper.

This is what he saw.

Since I was young, I wanted to see my name written on some part of a daily newspaper. It doesn’t matter where as long as it is not about crimes and obituaries. This started when my brother, jokingly told me to look for his name inside the broadsheet that he handed over to me, with the condition that if I found it, he will treat me to a lunch out. This was the time when he secretly passed the EE Board Exam. He doesn’t want others to know, it was just between the two of us. From that day on, I wanted to be like my Kuya. That very day of March, sixteen years ago was a fulfillment of my simple dream.

I was privileged to be part of the 1991 batch of TOSM awardees. I was lucky enough to get the affirmation of the judges despite my terrible English and horrifying talent. Perhaps, it was my stand on the “fraternity issue” that sealed their confirmation.

Seven years after, my Kuya once again graced the pages of major broadsheets as well as the internet. He was awarded as one of the Outstanding Teachers by Metrobank Foundation. Our family hardly knew about the award except when my Kuya informed my father that they will be going to Malacanang for an occasion. Up to the very last minute, Kuya never informed us.

Full of humility and humbleness, my Kuya never wanted the limelight. He never discussed or boasts about his awards and citations. If he can credit it for someone else, he’ll do it. He never let the recognitions clutter his brain and eventually remove his feet from the ground. Everyday is just another ordinary day for him, always doing what he does best – being humble. A trait I remarkably admire from him.

Until now, Kuya still speaks softly about his accomplishments; yet behind those soft words are character traits worthy for emulation.

The Fall

2007-07-25T15:41:00.001+08:00

Standing on SOLID Ground

2007-07-17T17:57:00.000+08:00

When I graduated from high school, I had no idea what was in store for me in college. I was just certain that I will be taking up engineering as I wanted to be an engineer like my Kuya.

Needless to say, I was in for the biggest culture shock of my life. College was very different from high school, far more different than what I expected. In high school, demons are wearing disguises, but in college, all hell break loose.

I was really having a hard time during my first two years in the institute. I was exposed to numerous influences in which I seldom fall prey. My grades are dropping faster than my will to learn and worst I lost all my scholarships. In the learning war that I am involved, my only battle cry was ‘HELP!’.

During my 3rd year, my friend Willie introduced me to this student organization called SOLID. It stands for Study Organization that Leads to Integrated EE-ECE-CoE Development. It was just a normal student organization, but little did I know that it was the turning point of my academic life.

I gradually gained various friends in SOLID, from the graduating batch down to the freshmen. As well as everything in between the geeks and the meeks. I also learned a few tricks of the trade and a little ‘diskarte’ on the side. SOLID armed me with few weapons I need to have to power me on my learning war.

Indeed, my friends in SOLID helped me sway with the waves and kept me afloat during high tides. I will be forever grateful to them.

I may not be the greatest, I may not be the best
I may not get 100 percent in all kinds of test
For the whole year long, I may be nuts
But as a SOLID member, I always have the guts.

Thank you guys for being my SOLID ground.

Edong ala Britney! (End is Near)

2007-07-16T17:07:00.000+08:00

If there’s one thing you would not want from me, it is to hear me sing. I must admit, I really don’t know how to sing. This is one of my biggest frustrations in life aside from knocking out Pacquaio.

I am very much delighted that I came from a very humble and talented family; unfortunately none of us is a born-singer. My father used to sing ‘Kusinero’ together with his friends and companeros, in front of an overflowing supply of beer. True enough, when you’re drunk you always think that you sound like Sinatra. My mother on the other hand, regularly sings in church but aside from that falsetto-singing-voice of her, there is no distinct feature in her operatic voice.

Happily, my siblings were not so different from me, in terms of singing. I remember my Ate Jho who always sings inside the bathroom. When you asked her why she does it, she will reply that it is simply because she sounded great in a comfort room. Maybe it might not be comfortable at all.

Ironically, the lack of singing prowess in our family does not deter us from enjoying music. My dad once said that a home without music is like a body without a soul. That is why, a portable AM/FM Casette Radio was his first investment when he worked abroad. He wanted us to enjoy music despite the shortage of notes in our vocal chords.

I was able to carry that fondness in music until now. Music has a profound effect on me. It calms me, soothes me and relaxes me. Sometimes it even inspires me to write, but most of the times, music just brings me to this magical place where I can be the simple me. Music is truly a living miracle on earth.

This is also the reason why every now and then, I stretch my vocal chords to do a Natalie Imbruglia or a Britney Spears impersonation. It is just up to my listeners to accept my version of the songs ‘Torn’ and ‘Ooops, I did it Again’, objectively.

Miracles still happen these days. :)

The Conspiracy Theory

2007-06-28T11:56:00.000+08:00

I grew up knowing a bunch of children stories ranging from the obscured and the unknown to the stories of heroism and courage. My father willingly narrated me these stories when I was a toddler. I remember, every night I would always insist on him to recount to me a legend or a fairy-tale until I fall asleep. Little did I know, that my father was slowly molding my imagination through his remarkable and outstanding stories.

My youngest daughter Nicole, age 3, is on the peak of knowing things around her. She watches TV very meticulously. She can memorize a dance step on a commercial within three to four showings. She listens to radio attentively. She can remember a song and its melody within a day, though she can only audibly sing the last four syllables of every line. At her age, she becomes very observant on how things work around her.

Despite the pleasure I feel every time she discovers something new, I’m still wary on feeding her information. Members of the household were advised not to use certain ‘ban’ words when Nicole is around. If accidentally she heard it on TV, my wife always makes it a point to explain it to her and reiterate that it is a ‘bad’ word. Her older sister Sam is also part of the conspiracy on feeding Nicole appropriate information.

However, we noticed that although Nicole is gaining knowledge on things around her, it is very ironic that she often forgets or has little knowledge to do normal things. Like the hygienic ones (brushing of teeth, washing of hands, trimming of fingernails) as well as the healthy ones (eating vegetables, going to sleep early and praying). She often neglects these things, eventhough time and again we told her that these are very important and necessary personal tasks. Her unwillingness to cooperate makes the conspiracy incomplete and unsatisfactory.

Knowing her thirst for knowledge, I took advantage of the situation. I used the theory my father applied on me – use story-telling to impart a message. I began conceiving and plotting stories about basic hygiene and having a healthy life. I made stories of legends, fables and fairy tales with an afterthought of doing the right thing and the implications of not doing it. I started with Severino Reyes' Alamat ng Lamok, about the consequences of not washing before bedtime, then I developed mine which is Alamat ng Gagamba, about brushing of teeth.

Every other night, before going to bed, my two daughters await the stories that I have to tell them. Sometimes, if I don’t have a story plot, I tell them normal tales of kings and giants. Based on my childhood experience, I know how much impact my stories have on my kids so I am very careful about it.

I gambled on the theory of trying to convince Nicole to do things normally by the story-telling method. I never knew exactly that the impact on her would be that immediate and long-lasting.

Today, we are not anymore telling Nicole that it is time to brush her teeth or go to sleep, in fact, she’s the one telling us that we always forget to remind her about her normal duties. And as any fairy tale would end, our conspiracy also ended happily aver after.

My Tatay, My Kuya and Me...

2007-06-17T14:10:00.000+08:00

I don't have much to brag about. All I have is my family.

Tatay, Happy Father's Day.
Kuya, Happy Father's Day.

You're the reasons behind this wonderful talent of mine.

Happy Father's Day to me as well.

Making a Name in School

2007-06-11T13:38:00.000+08:00

I missed my school days. For the past several weeks, I’ve been trying to contact some of my classmates in grade school. This was prompted from a story of my friend Jheng, my former elementary classmate. She told me that she met several of our grade school classmates and teachers during the last election in Palanan. I somehow envied her on the encounter experience but I begged her to tell me more about the details of their unexpected reunion. Hearing this information makes me recall some memories from my childhood days.

She met Donato, the tallest thin guy on the school. Donato was older than most of us that is why we call him ‘Kuya’. He was the first to wear long pants during our grade school days because short pants make him look awkward and uncomfortable. He was always the Sergeant-at-Arms of our class, his wisdom and maturity makes him the decision-maker of our group.

According to Jheng, Donato still dons his hair in a one-length manner and still has this respectable aura. He has three kids already.

Jheng also met Mhelieh, our Chinese-looking friend. Mhelieh was my seatmate since our surnames were alphabetically in series. I remember her as having this wide-spaced penmanship full of loops and circles. She was very famous for her Bruce Lee hairdo, Jheng failed to noticed this but mentioned that Mhelieh still wears a short hair.

She also met Obet, my buddy in playing SOS. In our class, Obet was the notorious one. He usually dominates the list of noisy students written on the blackboard, with an astonishing (7x) written across his name and surely he’ll boast about it after class.

My friend also met several of our elementary teachers still practicing the profession. They have dedicated their lives in serving the students moreover the country. Truly a remarkable feat well deserved to be called heroes.

This week, my daughter Sam will start her school days. She is now on her second grade. Being the second honor student in her class last year, much was expected out of her by her classmates and teachers. However, I did not push this thought to her because I want her to enjoy her school days as much as I enjoyed mine, since schooling is all about fun, learning, enjoying and being educated.

But I somehow sensed that Sam will likely make a name that will be recalled years after their school days. In what possible ways - that I don’t know.

I want to be an Engineer... engineer Future

2007-06-01T12:08:00.000+08:00

My wife and I are both engineers, we are designed to meet certain specifications with considerable amount of tolerance. We are magnetically attracted with one another.

We were educated to handle stress and strain in a relationship. For every critical decision, we tend to gather the information and lay out all the given. As much as possible, we based our decisions on data-driven information rather than baseless accusations and intuitions.

We are a couple who enjoys romantic moments with each other. Such that our physics and chemistry are of the same frequency and no amount of noise can penetrate the well-engineered relationship.

The free body diagram of my wife pushes me to put the decimal place into correct position. Compute for the projectile motion as well as the acceptable application of the force and the accompanying work. According to Newton’s law of motion, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. This was further clarified through the study on the motion of rigid bodies, vibrations and waves and the right hand rule.

The perfection of our relationship resulted into two significant figures. They were meticulously designed such that their birthdays would fall in a tolerance of +- 5 days.

Today is Sam's birthday, 5 days ago it was Nicole's. It was a cost-cutting design.

My Ms. Universe's Day

2007-05-31T07:23:00.000+08:00

The world has recently witnessed the crowning of the new Miss Universe. Among the 77 candidates, Miss Japan emerged as the righteous winner of the most coveted beauty crown in pageant history.

In a country where boxing, basketball and beauty contests are among the national past times, watching the Miss Universe is an experience you would not want to miss. Although I enjoy watching the contest, there are only two portions of the pageant that matters for me, the swimsuit competition and the question and answer portion, all others are just wall papers.

Again, for three straight years, Ms. Philippines bagged the Ms. Photogenic title, assuring all the nations that Filipinas are indeed subjectively photogenic in nature.

I remember seeing a picture of my mom when she was still in her late twenties. She was wearing a black silk pants and a simple beaded white blouse. Her hair was long, black and wavy. She was making a half Pilita Coralles-singing-posture with her right hand on her waist to counter balance and obviously wearing her remarkable smile. It was like a photo-session for Miss Universe.

The actual picture was actually a little bit faded now, so to make it last forever, my father decided to wood-laminate it. The final product now hangs on one side of the walls of our house in Bicutan and indeed it was a beauty captured in photograph, I mean wood.

My mom always calls me ‘Mahal’. When I was a kid, I would always detest it, especially when she does it in front of my friends and classmates. Consequently, I would hear side teases on me about being a mama’s boy. I would always wish that one day when I wake up, my mom would never call me ‘Mahal’ again, but sadly that day never came.

However, there were innumerable instances were I would enjoy the sound of ‘Mahal’ on my side. When I got caught by our neighbor sleeping in their garden, my mom fought for my rights which I usually don’t know. When I lost my bid for a seat in a student body, my mom was there to cheer me up. When having fevers, colds, sprains, even anxiety attacks, my mom was always my first aid doctor.

If I have to equate the times I hated the word ‘Mahal’ against the times I loved hearing it, it would not be an equation but a condition, since the latter would be infinitely large compared to the former. There were thousands of reasons I should be thankful for my mom and calling me ‘Mahal’ was on top of it all.

My mother was very charming when she was in her teens and very passionate until now. If I have to pick one Miss Universe for the rest of my life, it would have to be my mom. She’s the perfect epitome of ‘the essence of a woman’, my mother, my ‘Mahal’.

Happy Birthday Nanay! We love you.

Men in Black

2007-05-21T14:51:00.000+08:00

Of all my classmates in college, there are no more than ten people I wanted to say thank you. These personalities have influenced me and helped me get through my struggling years in college.

One of them is my grad class president. He is a highly-opinionated individual with a strong passion for two things -pretty girls and meticulous subjects, though the former usually occupies his mind more. He always has this big crush on flawless, cute, light-skinned members of our school organization. There was even a time that he has admired (and planned on courting) on three different, innocent, hapless victims simultaneously. Good thing, it did not push through (I squealed).

What makes him unique for me is his role in my love story. Although he is not that bad in courting, he often excels in motivating other guys do their stuff in courting their dreamgirls. I should know this because I’m a customer of his.

He is the one responsible in making my fairy tale come true. He introduced me to my wife, who was then an assistant secretary in one of the student organizations in Mapua. When he saw my reaction during that encounter, he knew right there and then that I got hit by Cupid’s arrow. And from then on, he served as my inside connection in determining various important information about my wife (class schedule, telephone #, family background, etc). Though he was very helpful, still I did not took advantage of the situation.

The eldest among the three siblings, he served as the role-model for his brother and his sister. He is a friendly neighbor and an extravagant one indeed. Usually, he would take care of the all the charges if there are any events in the family or within friends. Truly, my kind of guy!

He was a block-mate (classmate in 1st year, 1st sem) of mine and also a black-mate (no need further explanation). He was a classmate, a design group leader, a drinking buddy, a batchmate, a member of WETJAM, a friend and a ‘kumpare’. I may not have finished my schooling in due time if not with his help and motivation and I really appreciate that.

I know I may not be able to see or meet another individual with the same caliber as he is, that is why I’m saying my heartfelt thanks. And one thing more, it’s his birthday today.

Happy Birthday Willie (malaki na ang inaanak mo!).

Numbers with Letters

2007-05-18T13:27:00.000+08:00

I love Math. I know it sounds geeky to others but it really interests me. From the simple equations of Algebra up to the complex situations in Trigonometry and Solid Mensuration, I can say that it is kinda amusing to me. However, I will leave those muti-levels of Calculus, Statistics and Differential Equations to Mathemagicians et al.

One thing that amuses me in Math is the usage of letters in combination with numbers. The ever famous “X” and his cousin “Y” are some of the protagonists involved in most mathematical analysis. The simple equation of 6 + 4 = 10 becomes as lovable and interesting as a flash fiction when you combined letters to it, 6x + 4y = 10. Perhaps this is also the reason why I love writing.

Early this week, my brother-in-law Kuya Noel, gave me a little mathematical problem. He had this argument with his boss regarding the time of dispatching delivery trucks from their cement plant. The trucks were usually dispatched every hour and Kuya Noel is in-charge of all of this. His boss’ claimed that it was not the case, since he saw three delivery trucks on opposite direction from his moving car within the span of one hour.

Kuya Noel wanted to prove that there is no problem in the dispatching process and that there is no conspiracy involved between the drivers of the trucks. And to do this, he needed my services.

Enter the dragon.

I got hooked on worded problems when I started reviewing for the ECE Board Exam, my reviewer Mr. Perfecto Padilla influenced me a lot to enjoy such kinds of tribulations. I gave the solution to Kuya Noel, minutes after he discussed his problem to me.

I said that after seeing the first truck, his boss moving towards the second truck will encounter it 24 minutes later. It will come across the third truck after another 33 minutes, given the average speed of the car and truck equal to 60 kph and 40 kph respectively.

I told you I love writing.

Sunshine

2007-05-15T11:25:00.000+08:00

Two days after I wrote my post on missing my kids, I found myself absent from work and fetching them in Quezon City. Yep, they’re finally here with us.

An emergency made my in-laws drove all the way from Olongapo together with my kids and their baby-sitter. It’s because my sister-in-law Bel had a miscarriage.

Bel is younger than my wife, she’s the middle child among five siblings and she has this cute little son. Supposedly this will be her second child. She badly wanted to have another kid unfortunately some unexplainable things will have to happen along the way.

The incident brought back memories of the same nature. Five years ago, my wife also had a miscarriage. She was on her third month then and having her normal check up when the doctor diagnosed that our babies don’t have any heartbeat anymore. Yes, were having our twins then.

We really felt bad and unworthy; it was awfully hard for us to know it, more so, accept it. During that time I composed a short elegy in memory of my lovely twins.

...You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy, when skies are gray...

I'm sorry, I haven't had that much time,
To talk to you and to know you more.
I will not be able to whisper silent words to you again,
Like we always did before...

I will not be able to tell you bedtime stories,
Of what is wrong and what is right...
I will not be able to kiss you both goodnight,
And tuck you in your beds real tight.

I wish I had seen you my lovely twins,
I wish I had caressed your pretty faces,
I wish I had felt your smooth little kisses,
And the warmth of your loving embraces...

But God has other plans for both of you -
I just couldn't understand?
The message behind all of these
-Footprints in the sand...

You never knew, how much I've waited for you,
My heart is now about to cry.
To my sunshines, -I'm gonna miss both of you,
Goodbye my twins, goodbye...

...You never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away...

This has strengthened my faith in Him, moreover I have now two angels watching over us and I do hope Bel would also see the difference it made.

Missing My Strength

2007-05-05T11:45:00.000+08:00

I miss my kids.

It’s been a month now since I last saw them and every passing day seems to be like years in the making. My kids (Sam and Nicole) are still in Olongapo with my in-laws on an extended summer vacation while I am here in Manila due to my vocation.

This set-up made some significant changes in my everyday life. This has stopped me from being excited on going home after a day’s work since no little princesses will greet you when you open your front door. Eating has become a silent movie for me, when it was full of drama, laughter and adventure before. Sleeping also becomes as hard as waking up since there are no more bedtime stories to tell and no more goodnight kisses to give. It is really hard to gain strength when your source is not around.

Our home became a house, it went silent also. The four walls which amusingly witnessed the noise and madness of my kids stood noiseless now. Their toys which normally litter our floor are now stuck up on the toy cabinet, sleeping and busy gathering dust. Our fridge which is a victim of kiddy harassment for making him open his mouth regularly is now being afflicted by muteness. In our corporate world, silence can be a relief, but not having to hear my kids’ voice can be maddening.

I recently watched Spiderman 3 with my wife. When my kids had watched the previous versions of the movie they immediately made Spiderman their super hero. While I was watching the movie, I can’t help but imagine the looks on their faces when they see how Spiderman turns from brightly colored red and blue to villainous black.

I personally am not satisfied with the third offering of the webbed-hero, however if I have to watched it over and over again with my two kids, no doubt I had all day.

To combat my loneliness I set an environment that we normally have when the kids are around. The kids’ channels that they used to watch are now part of my channel surfing menu. The computer games that they always play are oftentimes being accessed by me just to have a feel like that of Sam. The candy bars and chocolate drinks that my kids used to enjoy decorate the inside of our fridge. I would arrange our pillows like Nicole would have wanted it. Though it somehow alleviates my loneliness, the desire to touch them makes all my efforts empty.

Hopefully I might be able to see them sooner, or else I may not be able to control the effect of the black meteorite on me. It’s steadily creeping.

Tumor No More... Proud Even More

2007-04-23T13:08:00.000+08:00

Together with my two sisters and three other friends, we went to St. Luke’s Hospital last Sunday to visit a family friend – Frankie. Frankie underwent a major operation on his left brain because, a week before, he was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor.

He went through hours of delicate operation to remove the tumor inside his brain which has been causing him headache attacks and seizures. The operation was successful although not all the lump was removed because according to his Kuya Rene, if that would be the case, it would render Frankie mute for life. He will just be undergoing chemotherapy sessions for the remaining mass.

I still remember him as a good friend of my Kuya, they’re basketball teammates and drinking buddies. He lives exactly opposite of our house in a ‘looban’, which makes me a good target of his ‘pang-aasar’. I always get back at him by beating him in a friendly chess match.

When I saw Frankie that day, he instantly recognizes me. I was pleased. He was being attended by his lovely wife who was very warm and accommodating. He smiled at me and asks me how am I doing, I answered softly and returned the question to him. He smirked quietly and said, “I’m still looking good not like you, what happened to your hair? It’s terrible!”

Frankie, always lived up to his name, he was frank and candid. Because of this, I normally expect comments from him that can ruin or lift your day and that day was just like any other encounter with him. His frankness was bold, an indication that Frankie is normal right now.

I was hesitant to ask more questions to him for fear that he might be stressing himself down, so after a few more minutes, I decided to say my goodbye to him. Before I went out, I got hold of his arm and said, “Get well, soon, I’ll be preparing for our chess match.”

He smiled and said, “Thanks Engineer Edong!”. He turned to his wife and said, “Don’t you call him names because his family is well-respected in our place.”, then he winked at me.

As I strode my way out of the ICU, Frankie’s words echoed on my mind. I was smiling inside, or should I say happy. Happiness brought about by the truthfulness of Frankie. In those instances, I increase my respect and heartfelt appreciation to both of my parents who raised our small family well, enough to earn those comforting words from Frankie.

It turned out that he comforted mo more than I comforted him. He got me this time.

Memory Recall

2007-04-16T16:07:00.001+08:00

My wife went to Olongapo last Saturday to check on our kids, who were spending their summer vacation with my in-laws. I wanted to accompany her but she insisted that I should attend the blogging summit, which I have waited for months.

This has put me in a situation which I always feared to happen – loneliness.

Dreading the situation, I planned of going to work on Sunday. Though I don’t usually do this, the circumstances have taken its toll on me. Sunday. Work. This is not me!

I just found myself standing on the waiting area for our shuttle service. I reached our office half an hour early than my usual time in and since it was Sunday, the canteen queue was shorter than the usual also. No traffic, no superior, no long lines were some of the justifications I made, on why do I have to work on Sundays.

I have finished a couple of documents that I needed to update when I noticed that I have lost my 256MB memory card. I brought my card to check and update some of my personal documents in it.

The cost of the card was irrelevant to the content of it. This card contained various literary pieces that I have written years ago, confidential and chronological personal notes and special family pictures that are priceless. The lost of which will mean a major shutdown on my system.

I was rummaging into my things and have almost turned it over when I noticed my Lord of Pardon prayer booklet in between my papers. It was the booklet that I always read during times of trouble and depression.

It immediately went through me. My Lord was simply asking me, what am I doing in the office on the day that is allocated for Him. I humbly expired.

When I got into myself, I fixed my things hurriedly and went home. All the while asking forgiveness for what I have done and somehow praying that if my memory card was picked up by someone, let him be good enough not to use my works and photographs for ill will.

When I got off from our shuttle service, it just struck on me to check on to the area from which I waited for the shuttle bus that morning. Still there is that glimmer of hope that I can find my precious memory card.

I went back and forth, fast and slow, recalling every incident that happened that morning and at the same time looking for my chip.

I came to a halt in front of this oddly-colored paper. I bowed down and slowly lifted this paper and there is was, my 256MB memory card lying under the shade of this paper. I was ecstatic.

I did not go home that time but instead I went directly to a nearby church to hear a mass. I was nearly in tears, during the first and second reading but it went off before the gospel ends. It struck and stuck instantly, it said “Have you come to believe because you have seen me. Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed”.

I believe You Lord.

I always do.

Standing on my Principles

2007-04-04T13:37:00.000+08:00

Despite the fact that I had a bad day yesterday after my boss talked to me about the friction that has been going on between the two of us, I still managed to joke around with my line leaders during our morning meeting today. I still kept my composure and the same lively and energetic feeling every morning.

Anyway, my boss decided to seal the matter of between the two of us yesterday. He summoned me to see him at the meeting room around 2 o’clock. I have a feeling that this meeting will gonna be a disruptive and furious one, hence I armed myself with principles and prayers that I firmly believed in.

“ Lord, grant me the serenity,
to accept the things I can not change,
the courage to change the things that I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.”

The meeting started on the wrong foot. It was not what I pictured to be, instead he started to talk sh#t on my face. He lividly brought out innumerable questions as I calmly introduced specific answers and pertinent issues. He mentioned numerous problems as I peacefully raised collective concerns.

He was very vocal in insisting that I have affected most of my colleagues with my broken opinions. I was very calm in claiming that my opinions are based on facts and it is not an intuition. If I have affected their decision based on his so-called ‘my opinion’, it is because my opinion matters, which gave me some edge over him.

He kept calling me rude words that can really downgrade an individual, but I kept my poise and claimed that I’ll take those as compliments from him. I insisted that I be treated like a professional, the same way that I treated him. Mocking me and saying words against my face is purely a work of an uneducated animal.

The coldness of the room was not enough to pacify my boss’ anger. It was also not the reason why I was shaking uncontrollably. I was not scared of him, I was only reluctant. I fear that if I pushed him too far, it might raise his BP level and might affect him in the end. Still I showed a bit of concern for him, however he kept provoking and insulting me, which didn’t have any effect on me. Enough reason to make him more furious than ever.

The discussion went on, until I felt that were leading into a blank ending. I finally interrupted our discussion and concluded that as long as I see some abnormal things and witness some wrongdoings and malpractices, I will not hesitate to raise the matter to the concerned personnel and stood on my belief about what is right and just. I will do the same on every situation whenever I think it is appropriate and necessary.

Really, I am a soft-spoken individual.

My Big Brother

2007-03-24T08:41:00.000+08:00

Tomorrow is a special day for me, it is the birthday of one of the two guys that I only trust. It is my Kuya’s birthday.

Ever since I started going to school, my Kuya is my inspiration and idol. I witnessed how he managed to study and work at the same time just to have something to give to me as a ‘baon’. He would sell ‘balot’ at night and ‘newspaper’ in the morning to have a few pesos after, that will be divided among us - four siblings. He never knew that I dedicated my ECE Board exam to him.

He is six-feet tall and usually stands above the average, literally a big brother for me. He is an accomplished teacher, engineer, father, son and a brother, walking tall above all of us. He is the reason why sometimes I see farther than the others. It is because I was sitting on the shoulder of my brother.

He is very soft spoken. You will never hear any hint of arrogance in him. When he was chosen as one of the Top Ten Outstanding Teachers in the Philippines, we have no idea about it, until the very last minute.

He’s now living in the United States with his family. Last week, he sent a Balikbayan Box full of goodies to my parents. He gave my kids toys, clothes and sweets. He never fails to amuse me in his own little ways.

I will never forget his advice for me that the best investment that we can have is good education. That, if a man graduates today and stops learning tomorrow, he is uneducated the day after.

I miss you na Kuya… Happy Birthday.

Salamat!

Strawberry Fields (forever)

2007-03-19T11:55:00.000+08:00

Me and my wife had a weekend get-away in Baguio. We took the opportunity to experience a cool summer breeze when my wife was assigned to work there for a week.

Since it was only a couple of days, we were confined in a very limited engagement with some Baguio scenic spots. However we did not miss the chance to go to the celebrated Strawberry Fields.

Let me take you down, 'cos I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hungabout
Strawberry Fields forever…

Strawberry Fields is a 20-minute ride from the town proper, right in the heart of La Trinidad. Aside from strawberry, the place is also known for its cheap fresh vegetables and colorful mums and flowers.

My wife and I had a brilliant time in Strawberry Fields. It brought us back into our childhood days of being as carefree as a bird. It was our first time to experience such - to see and be able to pick from the plant itself the fruit in which Baguio is famous for.

Seeing those juicy strawberries hanging from their cute little stems makes the trip more fulfilling and more mouth-watering. They are like shouting out their tiny voices to pick them all up and put them into the basket. Oh, how cuddly they are.

As we wrap out our moment with the strawberries, I happen to whisper a few parting words to them. I told them that I will comeback again to see them and when I do, I’ll introduce them to my daughters – Sam and Nicole.

They told me that they will be looking forward to that encounter.

Strawberry Fields forever ...
Strawberry Fields forever ...
Strawberry Fields forever …

Reality Kites

2007-03-15T09:21:00.000+08:00

I am a kite lover myself. When I was a kid, I used to own half a dozen of different kites, all handmade and all custom-made for me. My brother taught me how to make and how to fly one. We used to join neighborhood war of kite-flying and thread-cutting, though we knew how tough the competition was, my brother never fails to amuse me with his flying tricks and tactics.

Recently, Sam’s school held a kite-flying contest. All students and their parents were invited to join. Prizes were to be given to the student and parent, who can fly the kite first as well as to those who can maintain the steadiness of their kite in flight. A time limit was set to further select winning forms.

My work schedule that time prevented me from making a homemade kite for Sam and as a final recourse, my wife opted for a ready-made kite at a department store. A decision we both agreed upon not knowing that we will detest it afterwards.

It was a sled-type kite with no framework or sticks. I remember when I was a kid; I never wanted to have this kind of kite because of its difficulty to maneuver during flight. But my options were limited, I have to make this kite fly during the contest and somehow put a little pride for Sam.

We woke up early that day, as we begin our quest for dominance in the air. We made a few practice flights on a vacant lot near our house, a little rundown the street and a few lifts and toss on the basketball court. We were very much excited for the event.

About twenty kites were listed for the contest including our colorful sled-type kite. Some were made out of trash bags, others were out of Japanese-paper while most were ordinary plastics and cellophanes.

At the start of the event, three big kites with prominent girdles immediately rose up in the air, while I painstakingly give instructions to Sam on how to toss our sled up. After a few attempts of no output, we changed our battle plan, and then again changed it later, and again, until such time that I finally gave in.

After exhausting all efforts and attempts to fly our kite, I decided to end our quest, we never made it up there as we envisioned it to be. Sam still wanted to try some more but I insisted that we should stop trying, that’s when I saw her lose her passion and pride for me.

I tried to explain to her that there is no point in trying because of the type of our kite and the weather conditions. I back it up with all possible reasons that I could gather. She just sat there and bowed her head. She was so down that she could not mutter a word for me. It was the first time that I saw that reaction from her.

As Sam was affected by the turn of events, I was hurting inside and every second thereafter seems like the wound is getting deeper and bigger. I must admit, it was one of the lowest portions of my life. I fear that it may leave a lasting memory on her.

I do have my share of failures in life but as a dad, it was hard for me to fail in front of my daughter. My father-figure was challenged, tested and questioned. It was hard, really hard.

A kite is a kite when it’s up there, powerful, mighty yet ominous - indeed life is just like that.

Lovelier, the Second Time Around...

2007-03-07T18:59:00.000+08:00

Months after I had my first Mensa Qualifying Exam at Oakwood Hotel, I had a series of self-denial stages. It was hard for me to accept my failure in front of my friends and family. It took me several months before I acknowledged the fact that I did not make the 98% cut.

That experience taught me a lot. I learned to know more about myself and my limitations. I’ve also learned that there are certain things in life that you just have to accept without questions and these are all part of a bigger plan for you.

Last Saturday, I took another shot at this prestigious test. I thought of giving it one last try, however, this time I changed my battle plan. If during the first exam, I was over mentally prepared, this time I was emotionally and spiritually armed. I believed that if you are equipped with these weapons, the mental factor will just come naturally.

'I’ll do my best and God will take care of the rest', was my earnest battlecry.

We were the first batch to take this type of supervised exam here in the Philippines. Compared to the previous method of exam, ours was under time constraint. If you are under pressure over a difficult exam, answers seemed like a pin dropped in the woods at nighttime.

Halfway during the exam, I noticed that I skipped three consecutive numbers, because of the simple reason that I don’t know the answers. This was unusual for me, I thought for a while, I might skip one or two questions but not three consecutive ones. I was slowly losing heart.

All I did was pray. I did not ask for answers on the exam, all I wanted was a clear mind and a brave heart. Luckily, I finished the exam before the time expired.

I made sure that I have answered all the questions that need to be answered and God also made sure that He answered what I asked Him to answer – my prayers.

It was a well-fought battle and victory was mine to taste.

Blame it on the Rain

2007-03-01T07:34:00.000+08:00

If you want your children to turn out well,
spend twice as much time with them
and half as much money on them.
Abigail Van Buren

The erratic weather prevented us from escaping our small shelter last Sunday. One moment the sun was up and then, before we knew it, dark clouds were hovering above us and just trying to put a thin layer of raindrops all over the place. Though my kids detest it, we were confined in the four corners of our home.

As the hours went on, my kids were glued to their seats watching TV, like it was Sunday Night Football, well, I couldn’t blame them, so I blamed it on the rain.

Later, after lunch, my eldest daughter, Sam, thought of a brilliant idea. She suggested that we make an activity out of a few cardboards she had saved during her art class. Nicole, my youngest, then mimicked the way of making a mask. Me, as the leader of the group, grabbed a pencil and immediately drew our plan of attack.

My two soldiers were very excited at the sudden turn of events. Moments ago, we were lazily watching those poor production numbers on TV, but now, we’re busy sketching the features of our state-of-the-art face masks.

I made two sketches of different shapes, the funny and the serious one. The latter was for Sam to cut out while the former was for Nicole of course. It was Nicole’s first time to use a pair of scissors, so she was at awe when she first made a cut at her funny sketches.

Sam’s mask was a rounded-face, long-haired lady with pinkish and fluffy cheeks while Nicole’s mask was a wavy-haired homosexual with a headband, rounded lips, flat nose and reddish cheeks.

As we were about to finish in our art attack, my wife then treated us with her delectable, home-style, sweet-smelling, mouth-watering pancakes, one of the best in the world.

I watched with a smile on my face, my family laughing, eating, clowning and getting together in our own small place, we call home. Perhaps I was wrong to blame the rain for this.

Sam-thing Special...

2007-02-23T10:36:00.000+08:00

Last January, I was invited to attend a birthday party. It was the 1st birthday celebration of one of my godchildren. I was not able to attend his baptism before so this occasion will be our first encounter. This will be my chance to redeem my absence.

However, during that weekend also was the time that I have to teach Sam her lessons and prepare her for their upcoming 3rd Periodical examination. I was caught up in between two roles that I play in this life – godfather and father.

I chose the latter and spent the whole weekend having fun with Sam. We developed our study technique that incorporates reading and learning into playing, story-telling and those in betweens. This developed a practice that was never dull and giving me enough quality time with my kids.

Sam never thought that we are actually reviewing her with her lessons. By arranging and grouping her toys, we thought her multiplication techniques; by making her draw and posts her drawings on the wall, we made her some visual aids, and by playing with her cooking utensils, we thought her some basic scientific principles. We occasionally inject some humor in our reading and comprehension and enhanced her imagination through fairy tale story-telling. Indeed, it was a learning experience that she enjoyed more.

Since, we also included our youngest Nicole in our weekend workout, we noticed that she’s also developing her logical and motor skills, talk about hitting two birds in one.

Last Monday, the fruit of our labor ripened. It was so delectable that I almost cried with joy. Proud daddy was standing eight-foot tall.

It is because, Sam was again no. 1 in her class.

And just like what Clyde Drexler said in winning his first ever NBA championship… ‘How sweet it is baby, how sweet it is…’

Rx - A Warm Hug

2007-02-19T17:36:00.000+08:00

Last Saturday, a part of the world crashed on me. The series of misfortunes I had experienced were enough to drain me physically and emotionally.

It started when I brought my car to an aircon specialist to have its aircon cleaned only, however the mechanic found numerous little problems along the way. He enumerated all of it like there was no tomorrow and punctuated with an assurance that he can fix it in no time.

True enough, he repaired all the leaks, replaced worn out parts and made the aircon functioning very well. However, the repair caused me a hefty sum of money which was over my budget. Impressive yet expensive.

So before settling my dues to the mechanic, I have to withdraw money first from the nearest bank, which incidentally is one jeepney ride from our place. I thought of withdrawing the entire amount in my account since I still have to pick some grocery items later.

As I was doing my transaction, the ATM suddenly went offline. The next thing I knew, I don’t have any amount left in my savings account. My account was debited the total sum.

I managed to borrow some money to pay my aircon mechanic, but as I was about to drive the car home, the wheel axle broke loose from its connection.

Wow! What a great day!

I cannot start the car as well as my logic. We pushed my car down to an auto repair shop. The estimated damage according to the specialist was three more grand and much worst it cannot be done overnight, so I have to leave my car behind and I have to commute my way to the grocery.

I almost cannot move my feet as I walked home that night, I felt like a candle burning away, slowly succumbing to the forces of nature coming my way.

I nearly cried when I tried to illustrate to my wife, Thess, the misfortunes I had. She instantly felt the anguish and the distress that I was feeling. I knew in her heart that she wanted to ask me a few more questions but she never did try, she just looked at me and gave me her warmest hug possible.

You see, my wife is my silent doctor; she knew my medications before illness strikes on me. She knew how to equip me during emotional struggles. She knew how to handle my weaknesses and to capitalize on my strengths. She knew me like the back of her hand.

That moment, Thess never said anything to me because she knew that in my situation; I would not dare entertain any words.

A simple, warm and invigorating hug was all that she could offer but it was all that I need to help me get through that day.

I love my doctor – my wife.

Imperialism

2007-02-13T07:45:00.000+08:00

A week ago, as I was cleaning a wooden cabinet that is home to an enormous village of dust and cobwebs, I stumbled upon a book I purchased two years ago.

‘All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten’ by Robert Fulghum.

I held the book as I removed layers of dust above it. Little did I know that the book was some sort of a portal, a door for a journey back in time. Suddenly, my memory was being transported back to my Kindergarten days.

It was a small room filled with about thirty students, all first time schoolers. We are all standing in front of our chairs as the bespectacled teacher scrutinizes each project of the students. She was holding a long stick and talks rapidly and continuously; she was like a fire-breathing dragon ready to roast each hapless victim.

Mrs. Imperial, as imprinted on her table, was three students away from me and I was sweating uncontrollably. It’s all because, I purposely did not make the project she gave to us, just to keep my promise to my friend/classmate who also intently failed to make the project.

As a consequence for our misbehavior, we both faced the classroom wall until the end of the school day. A traumatic and very humiliating experience for six-year old boys.

Suddenly, my wife called me. I lost the scene. The sight of the dusty cabinet came into reality once again.

If people asked me about my most memorable grade school experience, I would not hesitate to say that it was that moment. The moment where I learned the true value of friendship, trust, respect, punishment and education. Mrs. Imperial showed us all of that in that instant.

After I graduate from college, I sent her a ‘thank you’ card, just to let her know of my appreciation for all her help in molding an ‘educated’ me. I never heard from her since then.

This Valentine’s Day, I wanted to dedicate my heartfelt admiration to the woman who influenced me a lot (second from my Mom of course), who taught me the heart of dealing with other people.

To my beloved Kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Imperial, Happy Valentine’s Day Ma’am!

Playing and Winning by Heart

2007-02-12T11:18:00.000+08:00

Last Friday, was Scout’s Day at Sam’s school. It was an event she was very eager to attend since the moment her teacher announced it. I was absent from my duty at work because I have to fulfill another duty – fatherhood.

Almost all of the students showed up for the event however, just little over a quarter of them had an accompanying parent or guardian. There were lots of parlor games in store, some of which were very challenging while a few were bone-breaking.

They were group into five teams with eleven members each. Sam was in Group # 4, majority of which were girls in their early years in grade school. They have two boys from Grade 5, but they were not as agile as the other boys from other teams.

Sam was very athletic compared to others as I’ve noticed, since she grew up playing street games with her cousins. We raised her to be fit physically and emotionally (though the latter was still in the process). Together with her mom, we developed Sam to be focused on what she’s doing and do the best she can regardless of the outcome.

They all played their heart out during the games and they enjoyed each moment of it. Unfortunately, their team, (our team) did not won in any event. It was a sad note for me as a Dad for I know Sam played her best.

During the awarding, I was sitting beside my daughter watching other teams claim their prizes. But to my surprise, she was not showing any resentment on what had happened. She was smiling and clapping at each name called at the stand. I asked her if she’s alright. She said it was okay not to have those ribbons, at least she had me by her side all the while.

The words went through me and lifted me up in higher clouds. I was speechless, trying to get the best words that I can muster but there were none. Suddenly, my eyes went moist as I grabbed Sam by the shoulder and pulled her closer to me.

On my thirty years of existence, I never heard a compliment as powerful as coming from my 6-year old daughter. She got me there.

Sam lost all the games, but she won my heart convincingly.

Zoo-per Dad

2007-02-05T10:37:00.000+08:00

Weekend is family time for us, since my wife is often out of town for her work assignments during the weekdays. We always make it a point to enjoy each others company during this short period of quality time.

Last weekend, it was Zoo-day. This will be the first time for my youngest, Nicole, to enjoy and witness some animals that she often see on Discovery and Animal Planet channels only. She loves animals because I often make funny stories on them. Sometimes I have to change my voice to different weird tones for her to comprehend the story further.

Manila Zoo was the only destination we have thought of, since Singapore Zoo and Hong Kong Zoo, would devour much travel time for us. Remember that time is not on our side here, hehe.

Nicole enjoyed seeing animals in the flesh. When the elephant pooped on the side, she gave out her famous smirk; when the tiger rolled over the dirt, she screamed her heart out and when the monkey climbed the bars, she also scampered her way up to my arms.

I enjoyed taking pictures of her as she enjoyed her time at the zoo.

When we got home that afternoon, she told her wonderful experience to my Tita, complete with the details and with matching facial expressions. The good thing was, I was always the hero in her narrative.

I love being a dad.

Dante's Pick

2007-01-31T16:02:00.000+08:00

I have a friend named Dante. He is tall, good looking and very athletic. I’ve known him for almost fifteen years since we grew up in the same neighborhood. We were teammates in basketball; opponents in chess; and buddies in our weekend night-outs. But after my family moved to another place, we lost contact with each other.

Last night, I received a text message from a common friend of ours indicating Dante’s loss of his father and the details of the wake. Since it was just a few kilometers from our abode, I managed to drop-by that very night.

I saw my friend again after many years of no communication, though in a situation we did not dreamt of. We had a juicy conversation about his father, his memories and legacies, promises and dreams as well as his last frightening moments of life.

Dante’s greatest recollections from his father are their chess moments. His father taught him how to love the game when he was seven. According to his father, if he will become a chess piece, he wanted to be a rook (tower). He will guard the king with all his power, limit all advancing forces and aid the queen in bringing down the enemy. It was a simple yet very concise definition of the power of the ‘tower’.

Dante’s dad lived as a rook. When others tried to criticize his family’s faults, he will stay on guard and stick with his family. When they were forced to move-out from their dwelling, his father stood up and fought for their right. When Dante’s mom suffered a disease, his Dad did not leave her during the entire battle. Truly remarkable.

When it was time for me to call it a day, I slowly stood up from my position and Dante also got up. When he did, a little thing fell off from nowhere.

Dante picked it up unhurriedly.

It was an old tattered wooden chess piece - white rook to be exact.

Bisaya by Heart

2007-01-24T17:10:00.000+08:00

My wife left again for her out-of-town assignments. This time she was assigned in Iloilo, my native province.

My mother is a genuine Ilongga, so I guess that makes me an Ilonggo. I have trouble speaking the local vernacular (Bisaya) but I do understand it. My parents (both from Visayas) who struggled and licked hard-life for years in their native hometown, met and settled in Manila, thus all of us grew up in the city. We seldom visit our province that is why I have vague memories of my childhood experiences in Iloilo.

This is the very reason why the story about the ‘city mouse’ and the ‘country mouse’ always inspires me, because I can personally relate to it.

It has been more than twenty years since I last set my foot on that ground and it’s really haunting me. The natural instinct to return and know my family’s beginnings is a fervent desire just lurking at the back of my mind. The longing for my Ilonggo cousins and relatives have resided in my heart since time immemorial.

I left a part of me in Iloilo and I’m sure in due time, we’ll be meeting again. I hope it will be soon.

Before my wife left, I asked her to kiss the island for me.

French-style, to be romantic.

Sibling Revelry

2007-01-24T07:49:00.000+08:00

When my 'kuya' got married several years ago, I was the only member of the immediate family that was not included in the presidential table.

Of course, there were my parents, sitting beside the newlyweds. My two lovely sisters, who were both part of the entourage. My brother, who was gorgeously placed beside his wife in the center of the grand ballroom. And there was me, sitting occasionally somewhere in between tables no. 10 and 11.

I have three siblings and all of them are sitting in front, while I was sitting at the back, desperately trying to contain the doves in the cage. All of them were busy smiling in the cameras while I was the one taking pictures of each of the sponsors. And whilst most of the guests were busy tapping their plates and glasses with utensils, I was also busy tapping my head to drive off solitude. There I was, alone and out of the picture.

When I got married years later, it was the other way around. I was the only one sitting in front, as all of my siblings were busy trying to make that day the best ever for me. My sisters were the ones who talked and amused my guests when the sound system was having trouble. My brother took the liberty of paying for my reception bill when I had difficulty in my arithmetic skills. My parents, who were very supportive and true that night, entertained and mixed with my in-laws.

As I was busy cherishing each moment of my wedding, my whole family was in full support in making that day the best ever possible for me, and indeed it was.

Sometimes life gives you instances that you just cannot comprehend easily, that it often take years before you learn the true meaning of it.

I was alone and out of the picture during my brother’s wedding but little did I know that it was just only a set up for me, to be put in the limelight afterwards.

Bl(oguing)

2007-01-17T15:22:00.000+08:00

You see, I have this passion to write. If I experience something extraordinary, I write it. If during my normal everyday life - an incident, a thought, a joke or even a story from an old friend made me laugh, ponder or cry, I write it. If I think it is worth writing, it will be written. Sounds simple yet too complicated.

My obsession for writing and the wonderful idea of blogging crossed path, exactly a year ago. The idea of having your own web site and compiling your own works and showing it to the whole world is just the thing for me. This gave birth to Inversepoint.

Inversepoint theme was not exactly what I planned for but it turned out to be a perfect one. The original plan was having just random thoughts on almost anything, may it be dramatic, comedy, inspirational or just plain one-liners. But as I was posting my series, I noticed that I tackled issues mostly about families, relationships and inspirational stories based on my personal experiences. My friends would text me or email me about my stories and how it affected their life, hence the theme stuck to me until today.

Though at first I was compelled to write in English for my universal friends, my patriotic ego forced me to launched Inversetuldok, a month after.

Inversetuldok is the other side of the coin. It’s very different. For one it is written in Tagalog, another is, it is funny and hilarious. There are no grammar rules here, I use down-right Tagalog slang and cono words that reach the normal Filipino sensitivity. Bob Ong for one is a big influence here.

But due to technology, I was forced to upgrade my Inversetuldok site and affected some of its parameters. Having troubles posting images, I shifted to the upgraded Blogger, and it paved the way for Inversetutuldok.

Between inversepoint and inversetutuldok, I also own a couple more blogs which I think would be best if I just kept it secret. Hehe, but to give you an idea about the subject matter, it’s all about my hidden desires and scorpio nights. PG-18, of course.

Blogging has been a part of my weekly life. I get frustrated if I experienced the writer’s block syndrome. If I’m not able to get inspirations out of my daily hustles, I felt incomplete.

Writing has been the receiving end of my angers, qualms, fears and anxieties. And after every writing endeavor like this, I always felt relieved and accomplished.

Last year has been a fruitful inauguration for me as a blogger, hopefully this year, I will be better as I lift all my talent and praises for Him.

2007, Watch out for me!

My Quiapo Devotion

2007-01-11T07:27:00.000+08:00

Some might disagree with my devotion to the Black Nazarene of Quiapo but the picture below shows that hundred thousands more might agree.

(Photo taken from ... my_sarisari_store.typepad.com)

I’ve been doing the ‘Panata’ since my first-born child came and every year, I am part of the barefooted flock of devotees that wrestle the wave of human strength into the streets of Quiapo. Wearing my ever-reliable, special maroon shirt with the ‘Senor’ imprint and a knee-high folded jeans, I jostled around the crowd to try my luck on getting a grip on the rope of conviction. Armed with only a hundred peso and my enormous faith, I always managed to grab on to the rope and carry it on my shoulder every time I came near to it.

I really don’t know how I managed to hang on to the rope where in fact my life can be threatened there. I just felt that there is an unexplainable Divine intervention every time I hold it close to my body.

All the hurt and all the pain that I endured tells me that one man suffered more than this just because of His love for me and I am just reciprocating it.

Many devotees can attest the power of prayer every time you request it to the Black Nazarene and I am one of those.

Indeed, even if I walked home barefooted and drenching with the mixture of body fluids and dirt, I know deep in my heart it is as clean as I can never imagine.

VIVA NUESTRO PADRE JESUS NAZARENO.

Secretly smiling

2006-12-27T14:02:00.000+08:00

My own family (me, Thess, Sam and Nicole) spend a day of fun and laughter at SM MoA (Mall of Asia). It was our first time to enter this mall and like my daughters, I was truly captivated and mesmerized.

From its modern architecture to its seaside backdrop view, the mall was truly fascinating. State of the art cinemas, shopper-friendly sofas and an exhilarating ride around the mall were the features that left imprints on my mind except for the never-ending-dizzy-crazy spiral path to its upper level parking lot. :)

We were not able to check all the stuffs the place can offer but the happiness it brought to my kids was enough for me to be thankful. I can sense that they are truly enjoying each ride they take and each step they make.

I remember when I was a kid, the first time that I went to SM NE or Megamall or EK, it was like a day full of OHs and AHs and WOWs. It felt like that I needed a couple of days more to truly enjoy each moment, each offering. Sometimes I still consider living in a mall, I don’t know why. Maybe because there is still that ‘child’ in me that makes me smile every time I see Jollibee dancing or seeing a fantastic toy robot. The same feeling that my kids experienced that day that I’m sure they will never forget.

As we went home that evening, my wife and I had a beautiful recollection of the smiles and laughter of our kids. She thought that my kids had a wonderful time, as they lay sleeping and smiling at the back of our car, she never thought that I enjoyed it more than my kids, hehe.

Shhh…

Sense and Sensibility

2006-11-27T16:11:00.000+08:00

Since my wife started to travel around the archipelago every other week, our special moments and conversations with each other began to suffer as well. Though we thank the wonders of modern technology in bridging us closer even though were far apart, still I yearn for her tender touch and embrace and that little smile on her face.

When my wife arrived from Cotabato the other day, the last assignment for her (at last!), she brought with her tons of sea foods which were part of the ‘pasalubong’ frenzy of the locals. At lunch time, we munched our way to the bottom of the sea foods on our plates and whilst doing so, we manage to exchange some idealistic views and nods as we normally do – our special moments.

She wanted to confirm if a guy really needs physical attraction first before he develops his feelings towards a girl. Good topic, I whispered. But then, I was kinda hesitant on how to open the discussion. I wanted to say yes at the same time I wanted to say no.

‘Yes’, guys need attraction first before everything falls in their proper places but ‘no’, it does not have to be physical.

To stress my point, I cited our example. I strongly emphasized that though I am physically attracted to her, it was not her looks that captured my heart, it was her intelligence and personality. The appearance criterion just falls on the next slot.

I further added that it was the joy of having a good and sensible conversation with her that melted my heart away. Physical attraction may vary relatively depending on the sense of sight. She may be extremely beautiful today but tomorrow may be a disaster, hence physical attraction also diminishes. However, intellectual attraction is far different, it attacks your mind and will leave permanent imprints on your ego and it will be very hard to let go.

Haven’t you wondered why Condoleezza Rice is very attractive for both sexes?

At the turn of events, my wife agreed on my point. She also recalled that she was not physically attracted to me (ouch!) in the first place, it was the sense and sensibility of the words that I spoke that captured her heart. Not to mention my sixth sense – sense of humor.

As we devoured our last piece of crab over lunch, I looked at my wife and I thought to myself – this is what I missed the most. This is the kind of girl that I wanted to grow old with, loving what I know of and trusting what I still do not know. Falling in love a little at a time is amazingly wonderful.

Glad to have her back again.

TOIL

2006-11-17T07:37:00.000+08:00

(The One I Love)

It all started with a smile…

The smile that awakened my heart from a deep slumber;
Very magical, it made me fall frantically in love for her…
Her mesmerizing smile that caught my full attention,
So endearing that I develop my warmth fascination…

Then, it was on her mind…

She has a mind of unexplainable extremes,
Always in reality but once in a while in dreams…
She is very open minded yet incredibly opinionated;
I can tell that she is simple yet too complicated…

After which, her eyes…

Her eyes that could express how passionate she is,
Dreadfully enchanting, you would not want to miss…
The stare that could melt your heart away,
So commanding that you’ll know she want you to stay…

And her whole self…

A package so complete, you would not ask for more,
Perfect in many ways, may it be after or before…
Truly, a blessed gift from heavens above,
That’s my girl, the one I am madly in love…

The Caterpillar Factor

2006-11-07T16:03:00.000+08:00

I’m allergic to caterpillar’s hairs and so are my kids. We usually get this itchy red spots every time we came into contact with these tiny hairs, an allergic reaction according to my wife. Though it lasts only just a few minutes, still there is that uncomfortable urge to scratch.

Last week, I happen to come across this beautiful caterpillar perched on a branch, beautiful enough to make me get my digital camera and take pictures of it. I was so overwhelmed that I forgot this TRO (temporary restraining order) that I have against caterpillars. I was so fascinated that I watched her how she munched her way from one leaf to another. Indeed, it was an astonishing encounter. Young, innocent and always hungry, I can’t wait to see what she looks like when she transformed into a lovely butterfly. Surely God has made various wonders here on earth.

My youngest daughter Nicole just turned two and a half and she’s just a wonder to be appreciated. Just like the caterpillar, she has grown her hair faster than I could imagine. It’s very thick, black and fluffy. I often freak out every time I see her hair loose and untied, my wife calls this an allergic reaction to her hair (like that of the caterpillar).

During dinner, Nicole never fails to amuse me of her munching prowess. She will eat anything that her spoon come into contact with, may it be a slice of banana, a slab of pork, pieces of fried fish, shrimps, chicken, even leafy vegetables, she’s like a caterpillar on duty. After that, she will gulp a bottle more of her baby milk as dessert. Whoa, that little angel of mine has a munching power like that of a bear. Watch out Kathryn Ratcliffe, your Guiness record for most Smarties eaten hangs in obsolescence by now.

As I watch my Nicole lay asleep every night, can’t help but wonder how this young, innocent and always hungry little being looks like after her metamorphosis stage is over. Life is uncertain indeed, hope that her upbringing will lead her to a wonderful and meaningful life ahead.

Only one thing is certain, she will always be daddy’s little girl.

A Very Special Date

2006-10-18T07:52:00.000+08:00

I have a date today and it’s not with my wife.

Yesterday, I made a promise to this lady that I will take her to a nearby mall. Have dinner together and engage in a marathon reading inside our favorite bookstore (we both love to read). Thrilled and excited, I also promised her that I will not be late on our date.

I’ve known her for more than six years already and we’ve been together through thick and thin. Sometimes, we have to separate ways because of life’s circumstances however; fate will always bring us closer together.

I have to keep my promise to this young lady, thus I have to go home earlier than my usual time-out. I don’t want her to get the impression that I can’t keep my promises to her. Very demanding indeed!

This beautiful, intelligent lady looks a lot more of my wife hence, the fact she captured my heart. I am very much in love with her that she’s one of the reasons why I am so much inspired with my life.

And today is a very special day for us. I am having a date with my six-year old daughter. Wish me luck.

Silent Bondage

2006-10-14T11:53:00.000+08:00

Part of my job description as a Manufacturing Engineer is to make sure that all parts that are being used in our production are of good quality and of the same specifications based on our standards. One thing that captured my attention was this unusual screw which was caught up in a bag of a different kind of screw and silently attached itself unexplainably to a single screw.

It was very unusual that I have to take pictures of it. Their bonding was so great that you cannot simply rely on mere human strength to break it. It’s just like they were alive and their bondage kept on getting stronger and harder.

Last month, my wife and I celebrated our 8th year anniversary as boyfriend-girlfriend very silently, so silent that we haven’t spoken a word about it.

The 9th day of the 9th month was very memorable to us that we signed an agreement in our hearts to declare it as a special non-working holiday. It was the date of our anniversary; however last month was an exception to the agreement.

She just arrived from Ilo-Ilo on that day, part of her bimonthly out-of-town assignments. Her work requires her to implement a system on each regional office located on the entire archipelago. It was an exciting work but very tiring and demanding, as I noticed.

It involves a lot of personal sacrifices both on my part and hers. Sad thing, it also ate up our personal moment with each other. It was not long, after she noticed the changes on our routine romantic life.

She admitted on her shortcomings and reasoned her work and having no choice at hand. I can sense that she’s sincere on her feelings as her eyes spoke the rest of her thoughts. She’s having a hard time I know but she’s trying her best to give us her time also. This is truly my kind of girl.

Our anniversary last month was celebrated very silently indeed. However this silence helped us to stop a bit and think, and listen carefully on the echoes of our hearts. They were all the time telling us about the bondage that we formed eight years ago and still growing by the day, and that nobody and no one can separate us forever.

Like the screws.

High School is Cool

2006-10-05T12:11:00.000+08:00

Recently, I had a chat with one of my classmates way back in high school. It was a brief, spontaneous, informative and hilarious discussion about anything that we thought was fun and worthy to talk about.

It has been fifteen years since we last saw each other and surely the chat time was not enough for us to discuss about the long-lost details of our lives. We’ve been seatmates since day 1 of our high school days and it’s just thrilling to note that I’m talking to one of the major influences of my so-called behavior. Though I did not dare say this to him during the chat, but of course the thought of saying this to him is still lingering at the back of my mind.

He’s setting up a reunion for our batch and he’s having a hard time for those seldom loggers in the net, hence, I came to the rescue. I will be the focal point of the ‘Text Brigade’ and as the name implies, the group will be involved in the campaign and information-dissemination through text and phone calls. Unfortunately, the budget for us was cut-off as well as the number of members. Tsk! Tsk!

Our job was to update each member of the Batch about the latest on the upcoming reunion and in return, the members will update us as to what Nokia model they are using, hehe. We need to get their work schedules, vacation schedules, various locations as well as their latest phone numbers which incidentally kept on changing. Sad thing were those overseas classmates who kept on texting us but we often failed to return their text due to budget constraints. Huhu!

The task was to be ‘on-call’ or ‘on-text’ 24/7, no overtime pay and no holiday, but the thought of seeing your high school buddies once again after fifteen long years is gratifying enough to continue the assignment.

Organizing a reunion is like designing a building; all considerations are kept in place and must satisfy all restrictions. Though we encountered various obstacles along the way, my friend kept the fire burning and up for all of us, until now.

We are just days away from completing our dream – a small dream with a simple purpose in mind, to bring back the glorious days of high school and tie again the friendship cord that once hold each one of us. This is truly magnanimous, unimaginable and beyond-compare.

High school rocks.

Sessions With Sam

2006-06-27T14:33:00.000+08:00

My wife left for Butuan for her work assignment, and this scenario left me alone with my daughter Sam (and my Tita), my youngest, Nicole, is still in the province. This prompted me to change my daily schedule and include the all-important ‘Sessions with Sam’.

One of the major change in my schedule is that I have to go home early everyday just to be in-time with my date; otherwise I would not be able to do my brief meeting with my daughter for she would be in bed at half past eight.

Just like any other meeting, ours would commence upon reading the minutes of our previous meeting. In this case, I will read all her notebooks and books scheduled for that day and will look for the things that they did in school (writings, exercises, assignments, scribbles, etc…). I would occasionally ask some questions about the things that I have noticed and would let her explain it in a child’s point of view.

After which, I would help her in her assignments, I would tell her some good old secrets of doing assignments easily that I know her Mom would not allow her to do. She would hesitate a bit but she would widen her eyes and grin from ear-to-ear. Silly me.

Then, we’ll do what she loves most - advance reading. This is our secret, proven family-formula. We would do reading on the upcoming lessons and I would make some activities for her to answer. You would not fail to notice her eagerness to learn more. I’m a bit careful at this part for I can dictate if she might like the lesson or not. Of course, I would occasionally inject humorous stories to make our sitting fun and imaginative.

I would do this each and every day until my wife gets back from Butuan, and I am enjoying evry minute of it. The sessions are short and simple. It was a very good learning experience for Sam. And as for me, it was more than that.

Worth Every Cent

2006-06-19T07:29:00.000+08:00

Last weekend, my wife and I decided to see a movie.

Our kids were on the province, so we don’t have to worry much about them. I have her and she has me and we have all the time to enjoy each other’s company (in a movie house).

We have not made this for quite a long time now; the last was probably more than a year ago. So the feeling was totally excitement and anticipation of what might happen.

I held her hand as we walked down the dim aisle (sounds familiar). And when I looked at her, she gave a simple smile at me, as if telling me that she’s enjoying the moment. Even in silhouette, she looks very lovely. Gosh, how lucky am I.

As we try to respect the silence of the theater, we managed to devour our snacks and share on the single straw of our soda. She would occasionally hold my arm and somewhat feel my biceps and I would savor each and every moment of it.

After the film, we tried to exchange ideas and comments as we would normally do. Though seldom, I would agree on her thoughts, I normally encourage argument and be thankful in the end, that I have a very clever wife.

The date costs us a few hundreds but each and every single cent was worthy.

Can’t wait to do that again.

Checkmate

2006-05-04T13:45:00.000+08:00

I’ve been playing chess since I was a kid. My dad taught me how to play the game and my brother inspired me how to love the game.

At age 7, I was competing in various inter-school chess competition. I was sparred with opponents twice my age. Winning against older opponents develop my confidence in playing the game. I was a consistent member of our school’s chess team and that time I was dreaming big, really big.

During high school, my fondness of playing the game deteriorated like a burning candle. The school was not interested in joining chess competitions, my father instructed me to prioritize my studies and forget any qualms about my addiction over chess, and what hurts most is that none of my classmates is interested in the game. I was slowly waking up to reality and leaving my dream behind. Although, I still played chess during high school, problem is, it is not in competitions… Chess exposure and improvement were far from being attainable.

College is my wake up call. When I watched how the Chess Varsity Team played, I was totally amazed. During the try-outs, my opponent was way far better than me, I know his game level is not of mine. For three games, he continuously fired and trampled on my defense, I was like a fish gasping for oxygen. My four-year drought in chess backfired at me and consequently I was not able to make it to the Chess Team.

It was hard for me to accept the fact that I am no longer a good chess player. I am no longer competitive. I am no longer bound for greatness. Sometimes dreams just vanish into thin air.

The other day, my landlord fielded me in a chess competition within our village. After a long thirst for a real battle, I was there facing the pieces of my enemy. I have to battle wits against eight opponents and aims to be on top of our bracket.

I don’t want to prove anything to anybody, I just would like to get my self-esteem back in playing the game. After eight laborious bouts, I came second in rank, not bad for an amateur. The first rank suffered only one defeat, unfortunately that is from me.

I did not try to continue battling for the top spot and the coveted cash award anymore, because I have already proven my worth and my caliber. Although I lost the honors, I’m proud I gained back my attitude and self respect towards the game, which have eluded me for quite a while.

Learning it the hard way is fulfilling, this is why I love this game!

Picture Perfect

2006-04-24T10:02:00.000+08:00

Today is the tomorrow that I longed for yesterday.

After weeks of being alone in the four corners of our small abode, the bell has finally made its toll. My solitary confinement is finally over. I was longing to have my wife and my two daughters back in our home again, and today is my lucky day.

The sight of my family being complete once more is picture perfect. My wife seemed to have lost a little straightness of her hair, more or less shed a couple of pounds and somewhat developed a small line in her forehead but her mystic smile and wonderful personality that made her distinct, still makes me love her more.

My eldest daughter Sam, seemed to have enjoyed her vacation so much in the beach, I can tell it through the color of her skin. She obviously lost some weight herself and needs to be replenished immediately, but her sweetness and values were very much intact.

My youngest daughter Nicole was different from the two. Her cheeks puffed a little bit which was very obvious due to her short hair that was roughly cut. I also noticed that she quite developed her appetite for eating anything that was offered to her and God, I missed her dimple.

As I watch them lay flat on their bed, I thanked the Lord above for taking care of the family that I loved.

I can only describe my feelings for this day in one word – complete.

Missing the Finest Moments

2006-04-21T12:05:00.000+08:00

It was the 2nd iBlog summit, I was very eager to attend this event that I have already filed my leave from work in advance that I don’t usually do. It will be my first time to witness and meet blog-addicts, experienced-writers, famous-hackers, blogger-wannabees, skin-developers in a single information-filled happening.

Consequently, that day also was the first school day of my eldest daughter in her summer class.

We both got up early in the day, excited on what the day holds for each of us. My plan was simple, I will just take my daughter to her nearby school and I can spend the rest of the day listening and taking notes of my idol speakers.

Little did I noticed, that summer class is far more different from the usual school year class. Different classmates, different teacher, different classroom and different syllabus greeted my daughter in her first day. She was caught dumbfounded. It was just too big for her to handle. Her eagerness and excitement to go to school turned into fear and anxiety, mine just melted away.

I have to convince my kid that everything will be alright and that includes me to watch over her until the end of her class. As I do this, the thought of not attending the summit pains me more.

After class, my wife told me that I can still catch up with the afternoon session of the summit but I decided not to. I will just stay home and watch my kids play.

At the end of the day I realized that what I did was right. The iBlog summit would be very helpful for me to elevate my knowledge in blogging but the moment when me and my daughter had a heart-to-heart talk, was greater than giving me a ‘Blog of the Year’ award. The summit, for sure will happen again next year, it is predictable; but my finest moments with my daughter will come unexpected. I’m just glad I didn’t miss it that time.

Family<->Connection

2006-04-05T12:03:00.000+08:00

Being away from your loved ones is a misery. I grew up in a small family with a strong family connection, so when my father left for a job overseas, I somehow felt a part of me that has been pulled apart. The same goes when my brother was assigned in Germany and my sister worked in Japan. It somehow pains me that I always find myself shedding a couple of tears.

I have my own family now and that strong family ties are still very significant to us. That I usually rush home from work praying that I would catch my daughters waiting for me. That I would have to talk to my wife about nonsense things and she would smile and asks stupid questions and we’ll laugh until we get teary-eyed and fall asleep. It’s really amazing where that invisible bond brought us now to where we are.

Today, I accompanied my wife to the domestic airport at around 2 in the morning. She was assigned in Davao City for a series of training. Little did I know that I was also training to be alone in our house, a hands-on training.

Two weeks ago, I brought my two kids to my in-laws in Olongapo for the summer break. That very day, I also break my heart for having to leave my daughters behind.

Now, I am all alone in the four corners of our small room, where four souls used to sleep together, I felt very weak and fragile. My sources of strength have been placed miles away from me and what pains me more is that I cannot do something about it.

Every night, I used to tell bedtime stories to my kids, now I dreaded the moment every time I go to bed. I have nobody to tuck into their bed sheets. I have nobody to kiss good night, nobody to watch Disney Channel with and nobody to pray with.

What makes me fall asleep is the thought of tomorrow. The thought of making my family complete again. That one of these days when I wake up, my wife will be beside me and my two daughters snoozing quietly as the sun rays hit their soft cheeks.

Until then, I would have to be contented with a prayer that connects us all - me, my wife and my two daughters. ‘Lord, bless our family to have a strong bondage, enough to battle our emotional weaknesses, but not exceedingly, enough to battle our bondage with You.’

My Sam-one

2006-03-27T11:15:00.000+08:00

After a gruesome 4th grading examination week for my daughter Sam who is in kindergarten, the results have finally been tallied.

Last 3rd grading period, Sam ranked no. 2 overall in their class. After being on top for the first two grading periods, she slid down to second place. It was really a sad moment for us, seeing our daughter in that very low state. However, we tried to make her feel that it’s perfectly fine, whatever the results may be.

From that very day, Thess, my loving wife and I promised to help Sam in making her dreams come true – that is to be no. 1 in class. We developed a method which we call the Betamax Method - integrating review into her play. (Review – Play – Betamax… makes sense?)

We combined this method with colorful visual aids pasted on the four corners of our house. She never knew that all along while she’s playing she was actually reviewing her notes for the class. Even our youngest daughter Nicole who is also playing along with her sister is also educating herself. Talk about hitting two birds in one.

Sam was recently awarded ‘Best in Mathematics’ and the coveted ‘First Honor’ recognition in her class. We brought back the smile into her face and she also did the same to us hundred times more.

Now that’s what I call fulfillment.

Sleeping Smiling

2006-02-18T15:43:00.000+08:00

A COLD FRIDAY morning breeze kissed me that should have sent me under the comfort and warmth of my blanket, but the gentle wind blow was enough to tell me that it’s time to get up. The sight of my daughter Sam, who was smiling yet she’s still sleeping makes me smile also. She always does this, and unfortunately I don’t know how.

Today is no ordinary day, today is Sam’s Field Trip day and boy was she excited. She’s been waiting for this day ever since her teacher broke the news to them. She’s been telling it to her friends and cousins and even once became part of her dreams.

Sam’s excitement grew everyday since she learned about the field trip so you can’t imagine her enthusiasm at the day of the event. It is her first time to experience such affair and I am to accompany her to make sure that she will enjoy each and every part of it.

I’m a disciplinarian myself but for this school affair, there will be only one rule. That is – ‘don’t hurt yourself’. I junked all house rules (inside and outside) and temporarily locked it into my safe. I thought that if I will be strict to my daughter during the entire field trip she might missed the chance to enjoy and have fun with her classmates.

We went to an eco-trail in Angono, Rizal, to see the Petroglyphs; a manufacturing plant specializing in customized life-size clay mold; Angono Park and Mini-Zoo and last stop was a dip in Club Manila East.

Of all the places, Sam and her schoolmates enjoyed the last part. She rushed into the pool like there were no tomorrow. Together with her friends, they took pleasure running uncontrollably, splashing indiscriminately, swimming wildly and drinking occasionally (water from the pool).

I enjoyed myself watching her like I enjoyed watching a movie; the only difference is that this is real life. The various emotions and gestures of my daughter was more than enough to make me and my camera busy. The smile for every successful face dip; the fear for every push from her classmates; the worry for every moment she looks for me and failed to see me; the laughter for every streaked of water in her face; the hurt for every scratches she had and the contentment for having me beside her. Sam doesn’t know it, but she really made my day complete.

She was extremely exhausted during our journey back home. But before she fell asleep, she kissed me and whispered, “Let’s do this again, daddy…”

Holding back my emotions, I kissed her back and said, “Certainly Sam… certainly.”

We slept smiling.

A Good Fight

2006-02-16T11:47:00.000+08:00

My daughter Sam’s third grading results were released yesterday. For the last two grading periods Sam was consistently on top of everyone, however this time, she was not. Sam was ranked no. 2 behind her best friend Mariel, who leads her by 0.13 points.

I was the first to receive the news directly from Sam’s teacher and as a parent I was deeply disappointed and I know her teacher would have noticed that during our discussion. The excitement that I have at the start of our meeting turned into sadness and the smiles that I showed to her were predominantly fake. Though my daughter did increase her GPA, Mariel did it better than she does.

Sam is an intelligent young lady, she got her wit from her mom, who is an A-student in her class. Sam was brought up in a simple principle that she must excel in everything that she does and stands out from the beliefs that we imparted into her. Being no. 1 is her greatest motivation and breaking the sad news to her would definitely dishearten her.

Sam was watching TV when I told her as careful as possible about her class standing. Still, my cautiousness was not enough to prevent her from shedding a couple of tears. I calmed her and convinced her that it’s alright and sometimes kids have to experience these to help them become stronger.

I told her that there are times that we must face competition in the eyes of everyone but the greatest competition to face is actually inside our hearts. You compete with yourself alone and if you are victorious, everything will turn out to be just fine. Since she increased her GPA that means she is triumphant in her self-battle. I hugged my daughter teary-eyed like I never hugged her before. She was crying at my shoulder and telling me that she sought to be no.1 because she wanted me and her mom to be proud of her. I added that we are happy for her and definitely very proud for she did pretty good in school, and because of that we will treat her to a single round of Chickenjoy and a stay in National Bookstore. She wiped her tears slowly and said, “…next time, daddy… we will all be smiling…”.

Sam might be successful in her battle against herself but her motivation will bring her to the next level of competition. Mariel may be better than my daughter in some aspects but Sam might pull out a trick or two. Although we don’t promise anything to anyone, but definitely Sam will give her a good fight.

Whatever happens, Sam will still be ranked no. 1 in our hearts.

Me and Mensa

2006-02-04T10:31:00.000+08:00

Ano stats ko?

While many are quite busy now preparing for Valentine’s day, I also made my schedule a little bit tiring. No, I am not arranging anything for the V - day, not yet. I am busy preparing for battle. Battle of the brains.

Three days before Valentine’s day I am scheduled for a qualifying exam for Mensa Philippines membership. Am I too ambitious? I know.

Me and Mensa crossed path while I was only a freshman in high school, I got interested instantly. There was an immediate connection between the letters of my name and the letters of Mensa. Eddie Mensa… thought I heard it before somewhere in the showbiz industry. From that time on, I envisioned myself to be part of this prestigious organization of wit.

I’ve been preparing for this for more than fifteen years already and I know the time has come for our formal introduction with each other and I’m looking forward for that long-lasting friendship.

May God give me the presence of mind to use my talent convincingly for this arduous task. Pray for me my friends.

Sana kahit Mensa-n…

Creases on my Soul

2006-01-25T11:51:00.000+08:00

We just recently bought a brand new electric iron. We decided to replace our five-year old heavyweight iron with this state-of-the-art-designed clothe-flattener. It has holes in its stainless steel soleplate for mist-spray, a sprinkler in front, user-friendly variable dial, ball-point 360 degrees pivoting cord connection, automatic-off safety feature, comfortable and easy grip handle and most importantly it is lightweight.

The enormous features of the item make it incomparable to our old, rusty, weighty flat iron which has serve us for years already. Though there are many differences between the two, still their purpose is the same – to iron out wrinkles from our clothes.

We iron our clothes to make it more agreeable for others to see, more acceptable in the society and sometimes it also dictates our social status in life. We are always worried about what others might think of if our shirts were not properly ironed. Indeed, an electric iron is a must in a household.

It can spell a job-offer, a long-due promotion, or a perfect pictorial depending on the number of folds in your shirt. However, these are all based on superficial aspects, how about our inner beauty which I guess is more important, how about the folds and furrows on our soul?

I wonder if there is a super flat iron that would eliminate all the creases in my soul, so I can be pleasing not only to man but also to my creator… never mind the features.

Ano stats ko?

Affecting the Young Minds

2006-01-24T14:16:00.000+08:00

THE OTHER DAY my wife bought a new Barney VCD. My children were so ecstatic upon seeing the item especially my youngest, Nicole. Thrilled, she doesn’t know what to do, whether to sit on the couch or to lie down or stand closer to the TV set. I immediately turned on the player and it's really indescribable to see the look of mixed excitement and surprise in their faces. It was just a pity that I was not able to record it on cam.. tsk tsk.

The VCD was entitled Sing Along with Barney, and just like any other Barney shows, it has numerous song numbers and easy-to-get-along choreography. The story was about an event that will be held on the tree house and all Barney's friends are invited, together with the ones who were included in the original Barney shows years before. It was just a funny feeling that those kids which we used to watch in other Barney VCDs when my eldest daughter, Sam was only fifteen months old, are now already grown ups. Funny, that they still have that 'childish emotions' in them. Funny, that they still laugh, sing, dance, imagine and care like they were grade-schoolers. Funny, that I find myself singing along with the Itsy-Bitsy Spider.

Barney and his friends were my daughter's TV idols. I'm just glad they were exposed to these kinds of children shows - amusing, entertaining and educational.

Later that day, I just couldn't help but wonder what happened to my own childhood TV idols like the know-it-all Kuya Bodgie, very caring Ate Shena, the funny Pong Pagong and the harsh-mouthed Kiko Matsing. The songs which they taught the children then were still playing at the back of my mind. Sometimes when I encounter strangers, may it be a nurse, policeman, doctor, fireman or a farmer, I just coudn't help but sing inside of my head 'Ako ang Kapitbahay'. It also never fails to amuse me when I think of the songs, 'Alagang, Alaga Namin si Puti' and the famous 'Alin ang Naiba?'.

Batibot has been a cherished part of my childhood memories just like Barney would do for my kids. These TV shows will always leave an imprint in the young minds of young ones and of young once as well.

Batibot rules!

Ano stats ko?

Reparing Damages

2006-01-19T07:33:00.000+08:00

FOR THE PAST four years, I’ve been donating blood to Red Cross, I felt somehow proud for the very reason that I am supporting a very significant cause. The thought of helping strangers by merely giving a part of you is more than a reward for me. It’s simply very fulfilling.

Last November, a very close friend of mine sent me a text once, she was badly in need of some blood donors for her dad who will be undergoing a heart bypass operation. She needed eight donors of O+ type of blood. Fortunately this is also my blood type and I was indeed scheduled for a blood donation on that week, hence I was lucky number 7 donor.

The good-deed would mean a one-day absence from my work. Seems a very simple sacrifice indeed, but it would also mean that I will be giving up my team’s project chances of winning in our company’s Technological Awards, which promises a huge amount of prizes.

I was torn between doing a good deed and an empty pocket in need. I was caught in a discussion with my conscience but the devil-inside-of-me was more powerful at that time. Though I hate it, I chose the latter.

I was able to get my team a major award in the competition but I lost a friendship in return. Until now, my friend would not talk to me even though; I have already said all the apologies I could muster. I could not blame my friend, I believe this is the price that I have to pay for being so self-centered.

Blood donation is not only literally giving a part of you, it is also sharing what you have to brothers who are in need of it. In simple terms, blood donation can save lives. I am trying to warn all those who will be under the same situation that I went into to - not make the same mistake that I did. Value life, it is the best gift you can offer.

The last time I checked, my friend’s dad was in a more stable condition now, thanks for the donors who made the right choice. It is our friendship that needs a major operation, to repair the damages brought by my selfishness.

Ano stats ko?

I know it Will

2006-01-18T15:12:00.000+08:00

I’m a very emotional person. A simple tragic scene of departing love ones from a movie can easily move me. A heartbreaking story of family concepts and virtues can touch my heart effortlessly. Indeed, this is one of my weaknesses. Oftentimes, I had to move my eyes away from the scene or think of other thoughts just to prevent my tear glands to work, and yet it will always find its way and prevail against me and my efforts.

Recently, we went to the interment of the mother of one of our close friends. Her mother was in a coma for about a week before she was pronounced clinically dead. The weather was sort of gloomy that day as if trying to invite sadness and sympathy. Slowly emotions are filling up the atmosphere. There was no further ceremony during the burial, the family was just given enough time to pay their homage to their dear departed and to take their last look before closing the casket.

I promised to myself that I will try to fight the emotions that are creeping steadily to everyone especially me. I was sort of trying to think of other happy thoughts, however I felt that I was losing the battle when I saw my friend’s one-year old son cry, when the casket was lowered down into the grave. He somehow sensed that he will not be able to see his grandma anymore. He cried as if there was no tomorrow. I felt sad for my friend but more to her son, I don’t know why.

That night, I had a one-on-one talk with my God and my prayer goes something along this line. “Lord, if my time comes and I know it will, please give my daughters/sons/grandchildren enough courage to accept my loss and enough understanding to glorify Your presence”.

Everyday Miracles

2006-01-18T13:30:00.000+08:00

MY WIFE AND I were already pushing our usually normal walk because it was already 15 minutes past six. I was trying to catch our second bus (SUCAT) which usually arrives 6:30 AM and she was trying to beat her time in at 7AM. While we were waiting for a jeepney in front of Severina 18, we witnessed a tragic event unfold.

An ELF truck (6-wheeler) moving about 60 KPH, was carrying around 20 men at the back, most of which if not all of them were construction workers. They were headed southbound along South Super highway taking the innermost lane. Suddenly, the truck lost its control, the driver’s impulse was to hit the truck on the middle concrete barriers. The impact pulverized the barriers as it scattered on the northbound side of the highway. The abrupt turn of the truck was enough to lose its balance and flip over. Passengers at the back were thrown in different directions, worse; some were pinned by the truck as it turned upside down and slid across the highway. The sight of metal against concrete against flesh was very horrifying. The incident happened in a matter of seconds in broad daylight. My wife turned pale because of what was unfolding in front of us. I was motionless for a time, I was whispering, my God, this can’t be happening.

Then a thick white smoke from the overturned truck enveloped all of us, we could not see what was happening, all we can hear was nothing but agony. It looks like the world stopped for a moment, traffic from both sides of the highway was halted. Then slowly, the smoke clears and presented to us the aftermath of the tragedy. The truck was about 20-feet away from its collision point as the wheel was still turning and the windshield shattered. The driver was still there waving his arm. Few men were struggling to crawl to the side and some are just lying flat on the ground in their own pool of blood. I wanted to help them but the highway screen prevented me from doing so. I hated the most were the sights of sufferings because I can actually feel the pain from their wounds. My instincts told me to do what is necessary, I got hold of my cell phone then I dialed 117. It’s the least I could do to help, I was shaking so bad as I am describing the scene to the telephone operator. I remembered she told me to calm down and breathe deeply.

Mixed emotions surrounded me, I wanted to see what was going on but the pain of seeing somebody in distress was more painful. My wife was crying as I hugged her and she could not stand the sight.

Passengers from the nearby bus got off and started to help the wounded. After about three minutes, PNCC pick-up trucks arrived. They transported the heavily injured men to the nearby hospital and got control of the scene. Many were injured from the car accident but the good thing is, there was no fatality.

I cannot believe it, I was sure in my mind that there was, I saw it in front of me. The truck pinned him down like a hapless vegetable and carried him as it slides down the concrete highway. As I was recalling the series of events, I can’t help but think of the thick white smoke that engulfed all of us. As most of us were busy struggling to see a better view between the smoke, God was busy rescuing His workers. The thick smoke hid the miracle that God has done, and It made clear to me that I was wrong to conclude.

That moment, I realized three things. One, that there are still miracles happening in our daily lives, we don’t have to see it physically but we can feel it spiritually. Second, that God has His reasons for you to witness such tragic event, it’s His way of telling that it’s okay to have these tragedies because He will still be in command and third, I realized that I was already late for work and could not catch up even the last bus…

I was absent from work that day, but God made His presence felt.

Big Sister

2006-01-18T12:55:00.000+08:00

Since there is now a new craze over ‘Pinoy Big Brother’s’ new housemate, which is Sam, I just would like to share to you my obsession about my ‘Big Sister’ which is consequently named Sam also.

My wife and I call our eldest daughter ‘Ate Sam’, mainly because of two reasons. One is to let our youngest daughter, Nicole know that she should refer to her older sister as ‘Ate Sam’ and secondly to let Sam know that she is now a ‘Big Sister’ and a baby no more.

She was kinda hesitant at first being called an Ate, but after some time she found it somewhat ‘cool’ having a prefix in her name. For her being an ‘ate’ is synonymous to taking responsibilities and additional duties. She is now responsible for making her little sister busy playing, when my Tita is doing some household chores. She is responsible in watching over her little sister so as not to get her harmed. She is also responsible in doing other light duties inside our house and doing some quick errands to the store. Though we did not try to push these tasks to her she somehow sense it that it is a default in being an Ate per se. She accepted the word ‘ate’ by heart but somehow with some reservations, hehe.

Being an Ate entails additional duties for her which include going to school and doing homework before watching television. She used to dislike schooling. My wife painstakingly inculcated in my Big Ate’s mind the importance of going to school and learning new things that she would not be able to learn in our home. Soon, Sam developed her self-confidence, self-acceptance, maturity and a sense of responsibility. She learned that she was able to gain some knowledge from school and made it a part of her daily life. She gained friends – lots of girl friends and significant boy friends.

With my wife’s desire to teach our daughter more knowledge and with a strong conviction, she succeeded in doing it gracefully. Sam is now enjoying school as much as she is enjoying playing with her cousins.

My ‘Big Sister’ is only five years old and just a little over the height of those MRT turnstile, but she has a big heart and a big mind in preparation for the big world out there.

Sam is now on Kindergarten and currently ranked number 1 in their school.

And you’re asking me if I am proud of my daughter? You never know how much.

Prize of Pain

2006-01-18T12:47:00.000+08:00

I HAVE AN ulcer, a peptic ulcer so to speak. This illness is typically caused by an acid resistant bacterium called Helicobacter Pylori which infects the stomach. It usually corrodes the lining of the stomach walls developing some sort of an injury inside. In simple terms, I have a hole in the lining of my stomach.

For ten years, I was enduring the pain and the burning of my stomach during late night attacks of this illness. I would just cry haplessly as I would allow the spasm in my abdomen to conquer me. Simple antacid medicines would just fall prey to the fury of this disease. There were times that I would volunteer myself to the hospital just for a shot of any pain killer available. It’s physically and mentally weakening.

Last month, it attacked again.

I was already feeling uneasy that morning but I tried to ignore it. Before lunch, it made it’s presence felt. I was fixing the ‘bike’ of my 5-year old daughter when it unleashed its ferocity. I suddenly felt a searing pain in my stomach in the lower left portion. I was already grimacing in pain when my wife noticed me, she then gave me my pills to somehow lessen my agony but the pain is really killing me. I went up to our room to rest and somehow it prevented my wife from seeing me in that awful situation.

I was in the middle of asking God questions about the pain I’m feeling and why He is allowing me to suffer such kind of distress when my daughter Sam came in. She was carrying a bond paper with some scribbles of crayons and pens on it. She then asked me if I’m ok and sort of massaging my back as if she’s trying to pacify me. Then she lowered her head close to my ears and whispered, “Daddy, I have a gift for you.” She then smiled and hand me down the paper she’s holding.

It was a home-made, hurriedly-drawn card prepared by her, with all sorts of crayons and pen scribbles around. In front was a drawing of a man walking with his daughter and inside was a sketch of a huge pink heart. There are also some small illustrations of a basketball, a house and a flower. The message was written in blue crayon and it says, ‘I hope you feel well soon daddy. – Love, SAM’. Though the card was like it has been used to test the ink of a ball-point pen, that moment it was a Picasso for me, a beautiful work of art.

I was not really sure how am I feeling that moment, I just found myself hugging my daughter teary-eyed. How could you not fall in love with this kid? The warmth of her hug melted my heart and my pain away.

All the while I was questioning God about my ulcer and the agony I’ve been going through every time I suffer, that I somehow failed to notice some of His tremendous blessings for me. It took the simple effort of my daughter to make me realize what I should be proud and thankful for.

After ten years of battle with my ulcer, I now discovered an antidote – the hugs and smiles of my lovely princesses.

It's alright...

2006-01-18T12:44:00.000+08:00

MY ELDEST daughter Sam is now in Kindergarten, she’s enjoying her schooling like she was enjoying her afternoon street plays. She doesn’t forget doing her homework and constantly looking forward for a new school day. I’m not pretty sure if it’s because of her eagerness to know more from school or her eagerness to see her crush.

Yes, you read it right. She has a deep crush on one her classmates.

Sam never forgets to tell her stories from school but as always, the topic about her crush is automatically included in her narrative.

My inquisitiveness got the better of me, so I volunteered myself one day to accompany her and attend a school event. During the affair, I was calmly looking at all the little gentlemen and was trying to figure out the special Prince Charming, suddenly this young curly boy approached my daughter. He was whispering something to Sam and after a little while my daughter nod in agreement as she was pointing at me. I somehow sensed it that I was the topic of their whispers, but I’m sure that Sam did not notice that I was trying to study the physical attributes of the wavy-haired boy.

He is bigger than most of his classmates, curly with receding hairline, puffy cheeks, small chin and wore a shirt that wrapped his body tightly. As they were exchanging whispers, I am silently whispering to myself also… “..not this one, Sam… not this one..”. I don’t know why, father’s instinct I guess.

I almost gave up figuring the odd one out when Sam’s teacher approached me. We discussed about her status in class and her behavior towards her classmates. Before we end, I simply cannot stop myself from asking the purpose of my visit there. The teacher smiled and said that the young man was sick and was not able to come to school. I was a bit frustrated by the revelation but shyly smiling because the curly boy was not the ‘lucky one’ after all.

I still enjoy Sam talking about her crush every night when I put her into sleep. I guess it’s alright for my daughter to have a crush on someone; her Dad has had his share of crushes too.