Memories of Halloween and All Saint's Day

When I was a young girl, I remember that I always had to sleep early on Halloween night because our family had to leave early to visit our ancestral family cemetery in Malabon. Early the next day, November 1, my mom would herd us all to the van and begin that long tiring journey from Manila to Rizal Cemetery. I actually looked forward to this journey because oddly, I found it fun.

The travel was long and what i remember distinctly was all that traffic we went thru and the route included passing by the controversial "Smokey Mountain" area. When we got to the Cemetery it was always filled with people and street food! The driver would park the van somewhere and we'd walk a short distance (well it seemed short that time) to our mausoleum where my grandfather, his two wives and an uncle were buried. It was by standards from that area, one of the "upscale" memorial plots. Surrounding our mausoleum our "neighbors" were either buried on the ground or "condo" style (one on top of the other). What's strange about the area is that it is located in the boundary of Malabon and Caloocan. Once you cross a little bridge, the area where our burial ground was located was no longer Malabon but Caloocan. Strange isnt' it?

Anyways, I enjoyed trips to this memorial plot because my mom will always bring lots of food and drinks. I had several brothers and sisters who always came along so she really has to come prepared. I remember one time though, we ordered a big bucket of Kentucky fried chicken...all drumsticks! Yess! There was this intelligent fishball vendor who will hang around the gate of our mausoleum and I'd buy several sticks from him I think every 15 minutes. Then an ice cream vendor would pass by too...He won't leave until I bought Magnolia drumstick from him. So you see, all my fond memories of a cemetery visit is based on food haha!

When we get there, we'd pray the rosary together and sometimes a priest will come and give a "mini mass". We had an old lady caretaker who...get a load of this...sleeps inside our mausoleum. She has passed away several years ago. The lot had a small garden which had some flowers and a small patch of grass where as a child, i would chase dragonflies and put them in a jar. These poor creatures died on the way back to Manila, oh well.

This cemetery had one distinct feature that I always came back too whenever I was there. There was this distinct grave that had a statue of the devil defeating St. Michael. It's creepy but it made national news several times in the past years. Then there was another grave site I would visit. It had two coffins side by side with what appears to be a wedding aisle decoration leading to it. Urban legend goes, the dead were supposed to get married when tragedy happened. I don't really know these people but they were part of what I looked forward to whenever we visit this cemetery.

We'd bring the radio, listen to music, or play cards and mahjong...but we'd stay until it was around 4 or 5 in the afternoon or until Mama will declare that it's time to go home. Every November 1 it never fails to rain in the afternoon. And since this was still Malabon area, the rains can suddenly turn into an instant flood. I remember being carried on the shoulders by one of our workers just to get me back to the van. It was knee deep in water and some of the graves were already submerged.

It was different back then how we commemorate Halloween and Nov 1.

Now that I'm older, I look forward to the yearly Halloween tradition of a gimik night with my friends and braving the next day even with lack of sleep just to be with my side of the family. The only thing that hasn't changed is how my Ate Ces has taken over the role of Mama and gathering us together to visit our new cemetery. She's not as strict though, whoever can go can come along.

Years ago, we gave up our Malabon plot and moved our dead to Manila Memorial Park (which is better known as MMP. When both our parents died, this where we had buried them. My sister had the ashes of our grandparents cremated and transferred them here. Our uncle's ashes were given to his family.

We'd go around 10am, a more reasonable time and at an earlier date. We don't go along with the tradition of going on the Nov 1 date itself to avoid chaotic traffic. We'd say the rosary taking turns at each mystery and a special novena for the dearly departed. Around 12 we'd look for some place to eat. Despite the many food stalls that dotted the park, we felt it safer to eat in a restaurant near the city and outside the cemetery grounds. If there's still time we walk around the park and visit the mausoleums of our other relatives.

Looking back now, so many things have changed except for one thing...that we never forgot to remember our dearly departed come "UNDAS" or All Saint's day. Regardless of how or when you want to commemorate this day, all that matters is that you remembered them on their special day and prayed for their souls.

WHY DOESNT HALLMARK MAKE GREETING CARDS FOR STEPDADS?

My daughter came home today coming from a shopping trip from the mall. She told me she had a hard time looking for a greeting card for her stepdad (well, soon to be legal). You see every Father's day my kids have that dilemna of honoring two dads. It's not like I gave birth to two different kids from 2 different men. (Not to offend some women in that situation) but in my current state, my kids have gotten to recognize my long time fiance to be their 2nd dad. They are still close to their real dad but since in our situation they see my fiance more than their dad, they have gotten so close to him like a real dad. Hence, my daughter is wondering "Why doesn't hallmark make cards for Stepdads? All I see is Tatay, Itay, Papa..no stepdad"

I found the scenario cute and alarming at the same time. Father's day is so near yet I realized, not all father's are given their due respect. In today's society, it is not uncommon for children to have stepdads. I risk myself being bashed by moralists but that is the reality that we face today. Some are adoptive parents, like the one I grew up with. He is the only father I knew (well, if we count my ex father in law and my father in law thru my new husband to be--that will make 3 dads...so confusing).

Fathers are fathers...and they don't have to be biological. They are fathers in the true sense once they start acting like one. They are the silent pillars of the family. They provide the strength that keeps the family together...either by their Hitler like rule or by their commanding silence. Every father is different, each has their own style. But in whatever way, they are very endearing to each one of us for without them, we won't exist to be.

The Father who brought me up in this world is not my biological dad but he means more to me than the physical dad who gave me my genes. By twist of fate, he passed away a day before my birthday two years ago. Every year I'm faced with that thought of whether I should think that my dad chose that day to die so I won't be so sad on my birthday. Nevertheless, I am still sad and I miss him dearly. I have a lot of wonderful memories of him - both the happy ones and not so happy ones.

I remember him as the man who would put his pajama top on top of my blanket during a cold morning while we were in Baguio (so i will have extra warmth). He had a great sense of humor and played the harmonica a lot. As a kid, we'd watch sunday movies in Escolta (oops, no Glorietta 4 yet that time). And he would make me baon a whole bunch of warm buttered pan de sal. (which is until now my favorite).

Thru him I learned generosity, patience, the virtue of silence (well, when he had fights with mom hehe) and love for family. And from him I inherited my temper. I can go on being mad at someone for years and give them the longest silent treatment. He was like that. You will have to be patient to win him over again. But once you do, he's the sweetest person on earth. I spent the last few weekends with him just hanging around his room and watching old DVDs of Charlie Chaplin. Even if he did not say much, just holding his hand was language enough.

So who said fathers had to be the same blood? I had the pleasure of knowing a father who was a great man and a very good one to me.

With my kids now, I see some resemblances of my dad in Gabby. They are both soft spoken, quiet but intelligent men, over flowing with humility and love for their children. Gabby loves listening to old school music on Sunday afternoons, just like my dad. And he has a gentle way of reprimanding me or the kids when something goes wrong. He keeps a calm exterior when all the others are in panic. But he does have a mean temper when he runs out of patience. He rarely will say harsh words but when he does it cuts precisely like a surgical knife.

I read somewhere that women fall in love with a man that reminds them most about their dad...

I do believe so.

TO SCRUB OR NOT TO SCRUB?

I had a severe case of acne during my teen-age years which left me with acne scars impaled by the acne pricking treatment my old derma gave me. Of course, I never went back to that dermatologist with all the pain she caused me and I had to bear living with the scars for the rest of my life.

Fortunately, as time moved on there are a lot of modern derma treatments that were developed and all claimed to remove the pimple scars on my face. I tried at least 2 of them, skin peeling and diamond peel. Both were excruciating and painful that it never made me want to take them again. My friends told me to finish the treatment to see the true results. But who in their right mind would want to subject themselves to unnecessary pain just to become beautiful? Well, some would but I wouldn't.

I resorted to topical treatments which were much more for me. I didn't want to take anything orally because I believe it will alter my body system too much. There are medical ointments that claim they can reduce or remove scars. But they are way too expensive and they do cause some side effects. My skin is hypersensitive to anything so I experimented instead on using facial scrubs.

According to a dermatologist friend of mine, gradual scrubbing can reduce the appearance of facial scars and even signs of aging like wrinkles. It all depends on what topical solution you will apply on your face. I didn't want to be too drastic and apply just any chemical on my face so I started out by trying all the commercially made facial scrubs I can find in the market.

I've tried the likes of Maxipeel, Eskinol and St. Ives. What I noticed about them is that they leave a sense of clean after you wash your face but after a while you feel an oily film on your skin afterwards. What is so strange about it is that when I rub my face with a cotton ball dipped in facial cleanser, the ball still has some remnants of dirt on it. That's pretty annoying especially when you know you scrubbed your face well for a good ten minutes!

With our very humid climate, I tend to wash my face at least 3 times in a day. With these products my face is stripped of the natural oils and it tends to look dry. Imagine to my horror when one of my friends told me I was starting to look dehydrated. "Parang nanunuyo ka!" And there goes my brand switching again and hunt for the facial scrub that will truly work for me.

A very good friend of mine (Steph) started introducing organic products to me. I wasn't into using organic stuff that time because my initial reaction is that "Oh my! That's expensive!". During my scouting for beauty and facial stuff, most organic products are marketed as really pricey that it's so way out of my budget. I couldn't afford it. Plus there's this apprehension that I might be spending so much money on something I'm not sure will really work for me.

Knowing that concern, Steph sent me a few samples to try out. Imagine my delight when the LBC delivery man knocked on my door and handed my goodies! She sent me a small tub of the STRAWBERRY MOSCHINO. Upon opening the container I was greeted by a pleasing Strawberry scent that was truly yummy. It really smells like Strawberry shake! I dipped my finger and the texture of the scrub was soft and light to the touch. It had  fine grains in it. When I rubbed it on my face it felt really invigorating. It feels cool and the fine grains weren't harsh on the skin. After I washed it off my face felt softer, smoother and cleaner. I waited after a while anticipating that familiar oily film that normally appears after you scrub your face. There wasn't any! And the good news is, my face didn't itch which was a normal reaction for me whenever I try a new product.

                                              The uber yummy smelling Strawberry Scrub!


I asked Stephy what was in that wonderful scrub. I love the way it smells and the soft texture of the scrub itself. The fine grains in it were not strawberry seeds but poppy seeds. It's highly effective as a natural exfoliant she said. It's so mild you can even use it on your entire body...which I did with my next bath! I let my daughter try it and she loved it as well. "Mommy can you order a bigger one next time?" she said.

I then tried another sample she sent...the AGE DEFYING FACE SCRUB. It had a different scent, a bit lighter but equally refreshing. The scrub is colored white, has the same consistency as the Strawberry Scrub but the fine grains are thoroughly blended with the mixture. You can't see them but you can feel them when you apply it on your face. It thoroughly sloughs off the dirt and oils that clog up your pores at the end of the day. Intrigued by the fascinating scent, I asked Stephy what it was and she said it was "White Tea" scent.

                                    Defying age with this elegant smelling Age Defying Scrub!


After just using them for around 2 weeks what I noticed about my skin is that it looks fresher and my pimple scars got lighter. I believe if I use them a little longer my scars will eventually fade away. Stephy recommends I use some ACE serum to go along with it. I just started using the that the other night as I am still building my own facial cleansing regimen as I try out more and more of the LILAC Organics Face and Body Products.

In my next order I got 100ml containers of each of the scrubs. These products are so addicting that I use them everyday. Now I look forward to taking a bath...in fact i take a bath 3 times a day just so I could use the scrubs. My daughter and my husband are equally addicted to the scrubs that I foresee I'll be including them in my grocery budget every month. It's so affordable anyway so I'm willing to set aside for that little luxury. Besides, it's truly hard to find a product that's safe and truly works! I am looking forward to trying the other flavors. I heard that there is now a COFFEE SCRUB and a CHOCO LOCO.

The complete line of Facial Scrubs of Lilac Organics!

CLOSE TO PERFECTION

It was one Sunday morning I woke up disturbed and
discontent. I woke up with awareness that I was alone on the bed. Panicky, I
groped around and true enough my husband wasn’t there. I look beyond the bed
and saw him on the floor sleeping. A bit annoyed, I poked his shoulder. He
turns on the floor and lied on his back smiling. What are you doing down there?
I asked. I was so used to waking up to his smile and getting kissed with a
“malambing” Good Morning! He stretched his arms and smiled that familiar be
dimpled smile. Oh, I decided to sleep on the floor…he began, and then laughed.
I actually fell coz you kicked me out of bed last night. You were having a nightmare. He got up stretched some more and went out
the door of the room. So there I was lying on the bed thinking…oh he’ll be back
and then maybe we’ll cuddle. But what seemed like an eternity (well the clock
said 15 minutes had passed—but it seemed like forever)….no signs of him
returning. So I drag my sorry ass out of bed and huffed and puffed down the
stairs. I stop midway when I see him puttering around in the kitchen. He looks up like a kid caught with his hand
in the cookie jar. He was cooking breakfast. “I wanted to surprise you…” he
smiled sheepishly as he went on beating a couple of eggs. “A new recipe, I
invented ….” he went on. In my mind, I was silently wishing we ate out
instead…been a long while since we’ve dated. I look at the sink and groan at
the number of pots I’ll have to wash after he cooks. How I wish we had a maid
to do the cleaning.

After breakfast, he settled down on the sofa and turned on
the TV. After an endless switching of channels, he finally settles down to
watching…wrestling! AAAARGGGG! And he pats the sofa so I could sit beside him.
(But I don’t want to watch wrestling you see…I want my Sunday cooking shows!)He
has this habit of switching channels so fast you end up watching 5 TV shows
within the hour. Ang masama pa, he loves holding my hand while watching TV ergo
I couldn’t control the remote. (How sneaky!) After 30 minutes of watching men
grappling each other, I made an excuse to get up from the sofa to call on the
phone.

 I decided to call my best
friend. Talking to a female with
unbiased opinion helps. I guess she woke up on the wrong side of the bed too
coz I was greeted with “Hay buti tumawag ka…kakainis talaga itong asawa ko!” I
was going to say the same thing but her endless complaints about her hubby
didn’t give me enough space in the conversation to talk. For one thing, they’ve
been married too long and have lost the touchy-touchy feeling we women
sometimes need in a relationship. Her
husband is not malambing na nga, he’s quite demanding pa. He literally NUDGED
her awake just so she could cook his breakfast in a jiffy. He’s in a hurry daw
to play golf, pero he couldn’t find his socks, his shirt, his pants, his golf
clubs. He wanted her to look for them for him. Then he left without kissing her
goodbye. My friend literally went crazy. I told her, I used to be “inggit” coz
they dated in fancy restaurants (they being a bit well off—very successful
businessmen that couple)…and she goes,” Hah! It feels like business meetings
for me….you know, we end up talking about our business over meals. None of the
romantic stuff! Haaay! He’s so clingy! He’s around me all the time but it’s
because he needs something. Yah, we still make love, but it feels like he just
wants me to let out some stress or something coz he doesn’t seduce me anymore….”

After that long revealing conversation I put down the phone
with a bit of a daze. I look at my husband who was now back in the kitchen. I
go up behind him and tell him, “What are you doing?” He smiled and said,”You were busy on the
phone so I washed the dishes. You go back there and watch TV and rest. It’s a Sunday;
it’s your day off. Save your energy for ….later…” He then gives me that naughty
wink.

I hug him from behind and kiss his neck. “Thank you…” I
said. “For what?” He asked. I wanted to
say THANK YOU…that even if I kicked him out of bed, he stayed below and still
watched me sleep. That even if we couldn’t afford to eat out, He’ll cook me a sumptuous
meal. Even if we didn’t have maids, he had no qualms about helping with the
chores and doesn’t feel less macho about it. And even if I had to put up with
his endless channel surfing and wrestling shows, he still held my hand all thru
out….He is not perfect, but close to it. And I wouldn’t have him any other way.
Then I realized how much I love him and how little I appreciated him.

”La Lang, thank you for EVERYTHING!” I hug him some more.

“Hay naku! Mushy ka nanaman!” he jeers. But he meets my lips
for a long delicious kiss.

Now that is what I call…CONTENTMENT.

MARCH 31, 2007

PILLOWTALK

he pleasures of being a single mom is having a lifetime of pillowtalk. I’m just tickling your fancy, but there’s nothing here in what i’m going to say that’s malicious.  Pillowtalk has always been associated with the cuddling and after sex talk. For me, its that time of the night when I get my endless supply of  hugs and kisses and "i love yous". Ever since they came into my life I made it a point to lavish them with all the love and care they deserve. There was a point in time I got impatient. After an entire night of cuddling, i wish they could cuddle back and whisper all the endearments that will give me comfort in my sleep. It took years. And this sort of loving grew with time and patience.

Every night now, before I settle down to sleep, i have not just 1 but 2 tugging at my sleeve to go to bed.They couldn’t sleep without me. They have that kind of anticipation for a bedtime story or a "little girl story" (stories about my childhood). Now what are you thinking? Of course, I’m talking about my kids!

Recently, our pillowtalk has changed. My pre teen daughter has been asking me questions about my past life, mind boggling questions about life in general and advices to her problems in school and how to deal with weird classmates and friends. The most comfortable time of the day to talk about these things is when were settled in bed, arms around each other. My son takes his turn the next night. so you see, I’ve been sleeping in two beds… every other night…ha ha!

There were nights i couldn’t talk but cry. Cry about mundane things in this world that upset me…yet too complicated for me to explain to their young minds. Yet for some reason, they understood. And i have had nights when they will just hold me and let me cry, looking at me with eyes filled with love and concern…waiting until i ran out of tears and finally drifted off to sleep.

The best pillowtalk ive ever had? those were the nights i spent with my children.

They love unconditionally…even when there were times that i cant.

One of the perks of being a single mom I’d say…are those "pillowtalk nights"

These are the best nights i’ve ever had …

AUG 22, 2006

REVISITING INTRAMUROS

I remember a few years back when I had my last tour of Intramuros. My fiance found out that my last visit was way back when I was in grade school and my recall of the place was already quite hazzy. It was a romantic date. We visited the churches in the area - Manila Cathedral and San Agustin. It was quite nostalgic. The churches withstood the test of time and several centuries of change. The adobe walls though ancient represented the remarkable strength of stability. As we walked the streets, some still bore the same bricks that lined the path over 200 years ago, my mind played images of how life might have been during our history's Spanish era.

However, Intramuros is home to the darkest ages of my country's history. That was the time when the Philippines was under the Spanish colonial rule. The church, although advocating Christianity also was imperialistic. The priests then abused their power using religion to govern and influence the country. To be excommunicated by a priest was like being outcast and condemned from heaven! Sadly, history has a strange way of repeating itself.

A few days ago, Carlos Celdran, a famous tour guide of intramuros and a very vocal advocate of the Reproductive Health bill (RH Bill) made headline news. He interrupted a mass by appearing in Manila Cathedral, dressed in a black suit and hat looking like Jose Rizal, with a huge placard bearing large dark letters that said "DAMASO". For those who did not know, Damaso is a notorious and abusive spanish friar in Jose Rizal's subversive novel Noli me Tangere.  This irked the priests and they called the police to have Carlos put in jail for a night.

Now Carlos is not an ordinary citizen. He comes from a very affluent family and he is well educated. He did not do what he did out of a whim. In my opinion, he was very gutsy with his approach in calling the churches attention regarding a major issue that has been pervading the country for several administrations. Quoting a friend: "This guy has balls!"

The issue here is the RH bill. The Phillipine population has grown out of proportion and there was a need for the government to do some measures to keep it under control. The RH bill states that the government will educate its people in all the methods of birth control. It does not support abortion but will provide post-abortion assistance without condemning the person. The catholic church has been protesting the sanctioning of this bill under the belief that any form of contraception is like abortion itself. The constant meddling of the church has contributed to the delay of this bill's approval and implementation. And while all this dilly dallying is going on, the population is increasing by the minute.

What Carlos Celdran did was merely to express what most advocates of the RH bill feels. The constant interferance of church in state affairs greatly reminds us of the Spanish era when "Damaso" ruled. His arrest and imprisonment only justified the thought how the church still lived in the colonial mentality when freedom of expression was taboo.

The country is now under the new administration of President Noynoy Aquino, son of a former president. They too are very much Catholic but Pnoy is very adamant on his stance on the RH bill. It fell on his hands the tough responsibility of dealing with the church's influence in this issue. The RH bill was passed on from several administrations with no resolve. Hopefully the buck stops with him and finally there will be a solution to the population explosion with a common ground that will satisfy all sectors of society. The challenge there is how he will keep the intermarraige of church and state on a peaceful level. There were news that the church was threatening to excommunicate the president for his views on this bill. This is so ridiculous since the last excommunication that I know of happened during Rizal's time!

What saddens me is that I now see Intramuros for what it is. Intramuros is still a beautiful landmark of our history but it reminds me of how the church's mentality is still trapped in that ancient time.  It is home of the CBCP who are a mere handful of men who do not see the entire picture of what our modern society is all about. Yes people and morals have changed. We no longer live in the skirts of Maria Clara. The choice of birth control should be left of the individual provided you educate them with all the possible methods. The church should be there to guide us spiritually in making the right decisions, not to impose what they feel is right for them.

Intramuros and its beautiful adobe walls now is a concrete representation of how the country continues to live in its Spanish colonial mentality. The church is as stubborn as its adobe walls which explains why our society has not progressed despite the passing of centuries. I understand fully why Carlos Celdran chose such a venue to air his grievances in a manner that stole headlines. As I updated myself with the news, it was like revisiting Intramuros for me. It's a wonderful place trapped in time, but not a place I would like to be in.