once upon a tree swing

our old house was built in the middle of a large lot with wide open spaces allowing for trees and flowering plants all around the yard -- santol, mango, star apple and nganga (beetlenut). the backyard, aside from being used as a laundry area was a small vegetable garden. at the far end was an outhouse/bathroom with a humongous banga (earthen jar) for water.

never having been allowed to go out without an adult companion, i could not even play in front of the cyclone wires (held by metal pipes for support) that used to be our yard fence. they had their reasons. unknown to them were instances though, when i would slip out and walk in the rain with my umbrella and little basket.

so there i used to be -- at times playing with bessie (our great dane)... chasing the geese and the ducks around the yard... watching the hantiks (large, red ants) who made their homes out of the leaves of the santol and mango trees... but mostly it was just me playing by myself.

when i was about 5 years old, my grandpa made a tree swing just for me. he came home from batangas one day with a thick slab of wood. he bored two holes on two side edges of the slab and tied it to a sturdy branch of the mango tree by an anchor's rope. in no time i was swinging away.

when i am not in my favorite place at the window sill, i would be under the mango tree swinging for hours. often, the hantiks would find their way down the rope and onto my hands or thighs. imagine being bitten by it's mandibles... pulled as i may, it's severed head was always left attached to my skin.

the neighborhood kids often gawked at me sitting on my swing. and since i was not allowed to go out, i invited them in. funny... while they envied me for having a suspended swaying seat under a tree, i envied them for being out there.

naughty

little ayel's expression when she's up to something.

the thread that binds... still

my cellphone started ringing the moment i arrived at the office. it was my father-in-law's number flashing onscreen.

"hello, A!" the voice on the other line exclaimed. i remember that voice so well -- it was my mother-in-law. well... former mother-in-law.

"Mom...?" i answered.

yes... she is in manila... back to US on saturday... was supposed to go to London to visit cousin... elder sister died so she came home instead for the funeral... died of depression... died of depression?!?

"remember tita E -- the spinster? she died of loneliness. don't ever be depressed, A."

"me, depressed? hardly. i used to be, long ago... i'm actually happy, Mom.'

"we're survivors. we are lucky."

"that we're still alive?" we both laughed.

"saw your husband's picture... bigotilyo... "

i laughed. it seemed somewhat strange that we're casually talking about my husband P who is not her son.

"i am leaving today open for R and ayel," she continued, "i want to see them before i leave."

"sure," i said, "you'll love ayel. she's such a beautiful child."

"i can't believe R has made us great grandparents already!" she exclaimed.

we wanted to chat some more but i was at the office and already being called for duty. "ok then, i will get in touch with R and tell him to call you up," i said.

talking with Mom on the phone was... nice. we didn't talk that way while i was married to her son. bone of contention eliminated, maybe?

it has been more than seven years ago. i used to count the days as they passed by, ever so slowly... when every waking hour a struggle of sorts. now it's more like has it really been that long...?

i had a great relationship with my father-in-law but the bestest was with my brothers-in-law. practically growing up together -- we shared jokes and secrets and drank from the same glass. we also played "pekwa" while doing our homeworks with my youngest bro-in-law JV acting as look-out in case Mom or Dad happened to come up the stairs unnoticed. once a signal was given, the cards would quickly be stashed under our notebooks, books or tablecloth (together with the loose change, gamblers!).

the first time my husband R left us to "be alone for a while to find himself" (i've always wondered why he kept losing himself), my son R (who was barely a year old) and i stayed at my in-laws for more than a year. Dad was giving me the girl's room (formerly my sister-in-law's) but i chose to share the boy's room with my wacky bro-in-law, JN. i would wake him up every morning and together we commuted to school. sometimes we would get up earlier than usual just so we'll have time for a tokwa't-lugaw breakfast in blumentritt. my other bro-in-law, M and i on the other hand would agree to meet in front of Quiapo church after class, eat at McDo's then go window shopping along Rizal Avenue. they kept my spirits alive those times when i was at my lowest. in turn, i would review them for their exams or type term papers. i was a confidante (who never squealed), an adviser, a buddy, a sister who stood in the middle of fist fights...

we played practical jokes on each other -- even Dad, the quiet one was not spared -- using a pentel pen, M and i would draw objects on their sleeping bodies. during power failures, we would scare each other by telling ghost stories. other times we would turn the circuit breaker off and traumatize anyone who happened to be taking a bath. the poor victim would hastily come out of the bathroom -- livid, half naked, soaped all over.

Dad and i "videoked" -- he is a good singer. when i took up PT, i would ride with him back to manila, talking and laughing as we traveled. i would candidly ask him questions the answers to which he'd dared not tell Mom. he also took me along as he went on site inspections and would ask if i was hungry each time we passed by a fast food restaurant. he supported us when we put up our video shop several years ago. i remember always being tasked to ask snack money from Dad who has forever been generous with me.

a lot of fond memories in there... when my marriage with R ended, it pained me to think that my friendship with his family will end as well for he was the thread that binded. while my son's relationship to them is by blood, mine just by affinity.

two years after the separation, they reconnected with me. like nothing happened. my bro-in-law M told me that i should not waste my life on a man who does not appreciate me, even if that man happened to be his own brother. congratulated me when i married P... he was glad that i was shaken to my senses and got my life back.

i would like to think that it is because we have a friendship totally separate from the one i had with their brother that keeps us in touch. i cannot treat them any other way except as my brothers-in-law. they will always be that to me... Dad will always be "dad"... Mom will always be "mom". a thread will always be there -- my son R and little ayel... binding us for all time.

in fairness and with due respect to my husband P, i do not keep anything from him -- especially those that concern them. i have formally introduced him to Dad when P and i brought little ayel to meet her great grandfather.

i wish the same for my son R who misses his own dad. i hope his father would reconnect with him and rekindle the friendship they had which is totally separate from the one we had as husband and wife. in time, probably... hopefully... anything is possible. even the unexpected.

prawn cooked 'i dunno' style

i would take prawns anytime of the day. i've come up with my own recipe for preparing them and called it "i dunno". the first time i tried it, my son R asked what the dish was called. i told him, "i dunno...". it's actually a very simple dish, cooked within 20 minutes or less.

1 kilo prawns (with upper head pointed parts trimmed)
3 tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic crushed finely
thumb-sized ginger, crushed finely
5 tbsp soy sauce
5 tbsp tomato catsup
1 tbsp sugar
chili flakes (if you like it spicy)
chopped wansoy (or coriander, optional)
sesame oil (a few drops, according to taste)

in a frying pan over medium fire, pour olive oil and add garlic and ginger. stir for about 3-5 minutes till light brown.

add soy sauce, tomato catsup and sugar. stir for another 2 minutes.

arrange prawns in the pan just so it mixes with the sauce. adjust heat to low and cover. let simmer for about 5 minutes.

turn prawns over and set heat to medium again to thicken sauce. add a few drops of sesame oil.

add chili flakes and chopped wansoy. plate, serve and enjoy.

early morning dance

ayel's sleeping habits have changed these past two weeks. she would awaken at around 11pm and play till 2 or 3 in the morning. though safe inside her crib, i could not bring myself to doze off... not till i am sure she's gone back to sleep. times like these, i let her be. i would simply lie on the bed, watching silently as she amused herself.

ayel would circle her crib, uttering syllables only she can understand. then she would pick her stuffed toys and drop them on the floor one by one. when all her toy companions hit the floor, she would shake her head sideways, saying "aaah.... pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-paaaaa!". later, i would find her sitting down playing with her marge simpson doll or examining her hands--left then right then left.

after a while, i would softly call her name and ask if she wants milk. her face would break into a smile with hands clapping saying "ma-ma-ma-ma-maaaaa!"

last night was no different. she awoke round about the same time and smiled and talked and clapped and played.

by 1:10 in the morning, i was almost ready to take my place beside my husband P who was way past sound asleep. so i turned the soft night light on and hit the sack. lying on my side, i was watching her still. i believe little ayel was singing her very own song. i smiled and slowly rose.

walking towards her, i whispered her name. she raised both hands in the air so i lifted her up and held her close to me. she put her arms around my neck and muttered "na-na-paaaa!" i had no idea what that meant.

in between the dark and the soft night light, with our arms around each other, i slowly danced and rocked her back to sleep.

who you gonna be in mine...?

rummaging through boxes this weekend, i chanced upon old photo albums. there i was as a child... pics with my grandparents, with my mom, with uncles and aunts, with cousins. there were also several photos of me with our great dane, Bessie. photos of my confirmation with godparents... wait just one min, little Ayel looks like me when i was her age!

in sepia or brown (i wonder why they weren't in color?) were my class pictures from grade one to high school. staring at them, i successfully named my former classmates one by one.

santacruzan pictures -- i was reyna elena twice with the same consorte who now has 8 kids with four different mothers. more photos of me as a teen-ager -- celebrating birthdays with friends, swimming at the beach, JS prom photos, senior prom... i saw my senior prom date six years ago while hearing mass and he was going bald.

pictures with best friends Em and Li. Em, whom i haven't seen in more than twenty years stood as godmother to my son. same with Li who went to work in italy. last we spoke she said she married an italian.

high school graduation pictures -- we all wore a see-through-blue-pleated dress for that occasion. and "remembrance" shots with closest friends.

now look what we have here -- my old wedding pictures! no wonder the priest didn't even shook our hands after the ceremony. we really were much too young to be getting married! why haven't i thought of that before?

that's me when i was heavy with my son R... what's the matter with my nose? seemed swollen.

pics of my son a few days after he was born, his baptism (hey, there's Em), his birthdays, his first christmas and new year... the first time i gave him a bath, with his dad, with his uncles, aunt and grandparents... several family reunion photos (from his dad's side).

more photos of R -- class pictures, school activities, pics at the zoo, in tagaytay, in baguio, in batangas, at the beach, in Luneta...

my college pictures with friends and classmates -- i was married before i graduated. golly, i looked awful in my graduation picture! i never framed them.

more pics of R growing up...

two whole albums of me with my officemates... another filled with pictures with my mba classmates. there were even several shots taken at the ferry we rode on the way to Bataan.

pictures of former suitors with funny dedications. well thought of, but funny anyway.

i got to thinking -- i have met thousands of people in my lifetime, my own family included. could've been hundreds of thousands, but then i haven't kept count.

just how do we know who's going to stay and be part of our lives the same way we are going to be in theirs? is it fate that decides that, or do we? quite remarkable how a simple acquaintance could lead to an enduring friendship... or an unusual circumstance leading to a lifetime partnership. i guess one will never really know. the most important thing is, there was always something learned from the impressions they've left behind.

i have new albums with new pictures -- new albums for a new life. the stack of photos grow thicker everyday... R with his little Ayel... me and Ayel with our faces pressed together... mom with little Ayel...

and what's this? a girl in a green gown wearing a tiara. it's my tita, (Rosanna) who being only 3 or 4 years older than i am became more of a barkada. turning her picture over was this dedication which goes "in case your memory bits to remembrance..." married to an arab, she has since made her home in the middle east.

girl, wherever you are... what exactly did you mean by that?!?

distant shores

Sweet soft summer nights
Dancing shadows in the distant lights
You came for me to follow
And we kissed on distant shores

Long quiet hours of play
Sounds of tomorrow from yesterday
Love came for me to follow
And we kissed on distant shores

The careful glance of children playing
Raindrops fall as if they're saying
Quiet thoughts of you caressed by time

The breeze of summer's gone
Whispered memories as nights grow long
You came for me to follow
And we kissed on distant shores

in your eyes

I think I finally know you
I can see beyond your smile
I think that I can show you
That what we have is still worthwhile
Don't you know that love's just like the thread
That keeps unraveling but then
It ties us back together in the end

In your eyes, I can see my dream's reflections
In your eyes, found the answers to my questions
In your eyes, I can see the reasons why our love's alive
In your eyes, we're drifting safely back to shore
And I think I've finally learned to love you more

You warned me that life changes
That no one really knows
Whether time would make us strangers
Or whether time would make us grow
Even though the winds of time will change
In a world where nothing stays the same
Through it all our love will still remain

In your eyes, I can see the reasons why our love's alive
In your eyes, we're drifting safely back to shore
And I think I've finally learned to love you more

elvis wants to be a teddy bear

still yawning as i commuted my way to the office this morning, my husband P and i sat across a stocky man with short wavy hair wearing black shirt over jeans. nothing unusual about him -- just a regular guy, i suppose.

aside from the customary dust, traffic and honking horns, the ride was uneventful. as we were traversing Kalayaan Avenue, i heard a faint and inaudible sound. looking around, i tried locating where it was coming from. the man sitting in front of us was looking out the window, but his lips were moving. i looked away.

as we were turning left to N. Garcia, the sound became louder and clearer.

i don't wanna be a tiger
coz tigers play too rough
i don't wanna be a lion
coz lions ain't the kind you love enough
just wanna be your teddy beaaarrr...!

he was not only singing, he was also rocking his head and slapping his thighs to the beat of his song. we tried not to stare for he seemed to be in a world of his own, having the nicest of time. he was still singing and head-banging when i got off my stop.

smiling as i walked on, i still didn't think there was anything unusual about him. the morning ride wasn't uneventful and boring, after all.

LA-LA-LA to you

i was not born a singer and i don't think i have what it takes to become one. a pro, is what i mean. sure i can sing... to myself while cooking or taking a shower, during videoke night outs with friends or office christmas parties where it was mandatory to belt a song or two. we used to go to bars along remedios in malate where the audiences were encouraged to participate onstage. i dared not.

when my son R was born, i became a regular singer... and composer. i would talk to him in ad-libbed songs. i had a song for him while giving him a bath, one for putting him to sleep, one for amusing him and still others when i played with him or danced him around.

twenty three years later, our little ayel was born and i've started singing again. upon waking up, i greet her with a song, like "good morning ayel... good morning ayel... good morning ayeeeeeel...". nothing fancy, just a tune to go with it.

little ayel would eye me quizzically each time i sang to her. i am not sure if that meant she was enjoying it or simply mental telepathy-ing me to read her thoughts which implored "cut it out mami, you're driving me nuts!"

i do not know if my mom sang to me when i was a child. all i know is, she talks to her dogs like a song.

from mami

to R,

happy father's day, son. i love you.

kitchen exercises

watching my grandma in the kitchen used to be a source of delight so it was not surprising that learning how to cook became a fascination for me. in my teens, it evolved into a chore. when i got married it somehow became an asset especially if one was to be judged by what one can do around the kitchen. years later, it became a therapy -- something i did to get things off my mind.

is cooking a talent or a skill, my son asked. it's either one i guess, or both.

i got exposed to kitchen work even before i entered first grade. my first duty was to remove skins from onions and garlic, by hand. i was not yet allowed to use the peeler. i would simply gawk at that little gadget, hoping to be assigned with the potatoes.

i waited patiently till grandma felt confident i was competent to handle the peeler and strip those potatoes off their skin. i remember being so excited about finally getting hold of that stainless thing that i peeled a little skin off my finger. from potatoes, other veggies followed--carrots, sayote (chayote), kalabasa (squash), labanos (raddish), gabi (taro), patola (ribbed gourd).... but all the time that i was peeling, i was eyeing the kitchen knife, studying it's movements. "soon", i told myself, "soon, you will be slicing, chopping, dicing, cubing..."

the first time grandma handed the knife to me, she watched ever so closely. over and over she cautioned me to be very careful and keep my fingers away from the blade lest i cut it. it didn't take long for the knife and i to get acquainted for i was already cutting away effortlessly. eventually, grandma would ask me to taste and stir her concoction once in a while. and i knew that anytime, it would soon be me standing in front of the fire. till then, i watched, observed and tinkered.

i cooked my first dish at nine. it was stir-fried baguio beans with ground meat, i remember quite distinctly. it was a little salty, but "impressive for a first try", my grandma commented. from then on, i was tasked to do the cooking for simple dishes which consisted mostly of fried fish and stir-fried veggies.

grandma said that if one cooks, one should also know how to buy them. she would give me pointers on how a fresh fish should look like... even smell like. leafy veggies should be bright green. carrots, onions and potatoes firm. tomatoes should be shiny, she added. my mom, on the other hand, taught me how to quarter-cut a whole chicken.

aside from the standard ingredients, as a young girl i would also create my own. i've come up with stir-fried pansit bihon with pechay, ginisang munggo with eggplant (or potatoes, whichever is available). it might sound strange, but what was stranger still was that it actually tasted okay.

i became more experimental when i became a mom and would come up with new dishes every now and then. i was not too afraid to try on new spices and will keep on stirring and mixing till i found the taste i sought. i guess one's tongue get accustomed somehow for i can duplicate a dish just by tasting.

one thing i learned, though... it isn't advisable to cook when you are unhappy for you come up with food tasting just like the way you feel. order take out. that way you wouldn't have to nurse a broken heart on an empty stomach.

me thinks

sitting on my work table one night making a new budget list for the month, i wondered how much i've spent since i started earning my own.

it made me smile... i had already been a millionaire. i just didn't have it all at one time.

time in my hands

come june 18, i will be on my 17th year of tenure at the office.

seventeen years... my, that's 6,205 days and i hadn't counted on staying that long. it was not my first job, it was actually my third. i took it as a temp till i found something better--a better job, something better to do with myself, something better to do with my time... apparently i had nothing better to do... hah!

last month i advised my boss that i am planning to take a vacation. yes, after seventeen years, i am finally taking a vacation. i said there are things i have to attend to, which is true, but there were other stuff, too which i didn't say. i didn't have to mention that sometimes things can get so monotonously boring and unfruitful you'd have to find something else to do to keep your spirit alive and sustain your interest. i do not know how long i intend to keep on vacationing. it could be three months at the least, or it could take forever. but i already have a list of things i will do:

1. put up that business that had been prancing in my mind for the last three years (!)
   
2. take a week or two vacationing in the northern parts with my husband and of course, baby ayel
   
3. ride, ride & ride my bike till i fit comfortably in my clothes again
   
4. take pictures... lots of them
   
5. play the keyboard till i am at ease again
6. tidy the house till everything is in place
7. read those books i bought last year
8. get on with the repair works for the property i am overseeing
9. learn soap & candle making (making it the right way, i mean)
10. walk along the promenade and sit by the benches at the bay watching the sunset

seems to me i will soon be into a lot of fun...

hello kitty

well what do you know... we just bought ayel her first toothbrush--a pink hello kitty one with tiny bristles (if i have one like it i would probably have to brush one tooth at a time). and i can hardly wait to use it on her.

i never thought buying a toothbrush could be so exciting.