I am still grieving for Tony. But I am picking up the pieces of my life slowly. I know that things will never be the same again now that he is no longer around but I also know that I will survive this loss and start again. A few years back I have called myself a wildflower that only grew in the mountains. It thrives even in the strong winds and the very cool mountain climate. I am not a little flower like St. Therese but nevertheless, a flower loved by God just as He loves all the works of His hands. He protects me from everything, even from myself.

A piece of my life is devoted to writing and I am glad that in spite of the numbing of my right arm, I am writing again. I have just met a wonderful online friend, Mr. Webslave Mc'coolot himself - Jorich - my officemate Jon's brother.

Another piece of my life is into watching movies. I love all sorts of films. I am the type who only judges a film when I have seen its entirety but there are exceptions to this rule. When I have seen five minutes of a film and it still has not caught my interest, I stop watching. I prefer viewing movies online than downloading videos. I'm a registered user of watch-movies-links.net, my fave online-movies site.

Still picking up the pieces and I don't mind sharing whatever I find.

All through my life, first as young girl transplanted from Malabon to Grace Park, Caloocan City, then on to my adulthood in Proj. 4, Quezon City, I had seen violence. I grew up experiencing it and later on I married into it and even exhibited violent tendencies myself. My father had taken care of me as a young girl while my mother worked as tour guide. He had a shop where he used to tinker with TVs and radios at home. There were nannies who helped raise my brother and I. Daddy  would help feed me and watch over me. Along with the baby fat went the loss of my father's fondness for me. He began to show more favor towards his only son then, my brother Boying. Though he was affectionate, he was also less patient and less forgiving to what he perceived as my stubbornness and lack of finesse. 
 

He was never one to spare the rod.  In my case, it was a leather belt. He was also careless with words that cut through my very soul. He would call me names like stupid, gaga, and good-for-nothing.

I am Catholic and for almost ten years I lived with the father of my five children. We were married in Catholic rites. What happened in May 2001 changed the course of my married life forever. The same man who swore before God that he would cherish and love me "till death do us part" came within an inch of killing me with several blows of a piece of brick on my head. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was brought to the hospital by Barangay Safety Officers and some policemen. (A barangay is the basic unit of the local government in the Philippines.) I had him arrested and a case was filed against him for slight physical injuries.The case was eventually dropped because I could not pursue it for lack of time and money.

Since that day, there were two occasions when he tried to ask for forgiveness from me. He had beaten me up in the past but nothing could be worse than the last beating. He had always asked for forgiveness afterwards. I had always forgiven him. It was a cycle that had to be stopped before anyone was maimed or killed. The children were not spared from violence. After the last beating, I told him that I had forgiven him but that we could no longer live together.
 

In April 2005, I met a man with whom I entered a relationship in July of that year. At the time, I had been active in several church groups. I was even serving in Masses as a lector/commentator. A concerned friend told me to refrain from serving in Masses if I were to persist in my relationship with Tony. He was not my husband and the liaison with him would set a bad example. So I had to think things over. I was convinced that my relationship with Tony was worth a try but I could not serve in Church and have it at the same time. I dropped all my church involvements though I remained a Catholic.

At first, we just made it a point to see each other everyday. Later on, we were living together. For more than three years, we spent our lives as a couple until one day he became ill and for months he struggled with kidney stones and later with osteoarthritis and weak vocal cords. He had difficulty eating and he never ate another hearty meal again since September 2008 until the day he died. His heart, the weakest part of his body that showed an old heart attack wound in the autopsy, gave in to a second attack.

Tony was not the perfect partner. Neither was I. We had our differences. But in all the time we had been together, he never belittled me. We fought and loved. He never once laid a hand on me even though he never promised to cherish and love me till death do us part in holy matrimony.

February 6, 2009 will always be etched in my mind as the day God took my Tony from me. I will forever be grateful because I was there by his side when he breathed his last. My daughter and I had prayed over him and sang "Come, Holy Spirit". I had reminded him to be strong and have faith for 'where two or three are gathered..." there He was in their midst. In about fifteen minutes after the praying over, Tony expired. I was not prepared for his dying because it had never really occurred to me that he would die. I had been praying very hard for his healing and was scheduled to go as proxy to a healing session that would be conducted the next day by Sis. Raquel Reodica, RVM at the Mother Ignacia Healing Center in Novaliches.

Today, I am still grieving for Tony but I have placed everything in God's hands. I still cry when I reminisce about our times together.  I will continue to attend Masses for him and pray for the repose of his soul. I will continue to meditate on his role in my life. He was brought into my life for a purpose and he had a purpose for being. He was and still is a gift to me. I thank God for the gift that is Tony. I believe that wherever he is now, he is also praying for me and the children. Thank you, Tony, for giving of your love and now, of your prayers.

Rest in God's peace.

 

                       O HESUS, HILUMIN MO (OH, JESUS, HEAL)

O Hesus, hilumin Mo
(Oh, Jesus, heal)
Aking sugatang puso
(My wounded heart)
Ng aking mahango
(So I can redeem)
Kap'wa ko kasimbigo.
(My equally wounded neighbor.)

Hapis at pait
(Sorrow and bitterness)
Iyong patamisin
(May You sweeten)
At hagkan ang sakit
(And kiss my suffering)
Nang magningas ang rikit
(To enkindle its beauty even more)

O, Hesus, hilumin Mo
(Oh, Jesus, heal)
Aking sugatang puso
(My wounded heart)
Ng aking mahango
(So I can redeem)
Kap'wa ko kasimbigo.
(My equally wounded neighbor.)

Aking sugatang
(My wounded)
Diwa't katawan
(Spirit and body)
Ay gawing daan
(May You use as instruments)
Ng 'Yong kaligtasan.
(Of Your salvation.)

O, Hesus, hilumin Mo
(Oh, Jesus, heal)
Aking sugatang puso
(My wounded heart)
Ng aking mahango
(So I can redeem)
Kap'wa ko kasimbigo.
(My equally wounded neighbor.)
 

youtube video by artzone

 

It is the fact that the Pinoy is a lover of the homeland and his patrimony and never is that quality more pronounced than when he is suffering from homesickness while in a land faraway - thinking of the family he left behind, lutong-bahay, his barkada, the free expression of his faith, and the wonderfully long Christmases - in spite of the wads of dollar bills in his pocket or the snowflakes on his face or of hobnobbing with the rich and famous, or the glitter and glamour that can only be found while working in the richer countries of the world, and last but not least, in spite of the feeling of having seen and experienced all that the world has to offer.