My Father September 20, 2009

What I thought as a genuine desire of my father to let go of his vices has, unluckily, turned out to be just another of his not too popular ploys to get us to side with him.  It happened before and it has happened again.  I couldn’t say the telltale signs weren’t there, but I chose to believe that this time, he was finally going to strive to win over his alcohol and nicotine addiction, but it appears that the world has won again.

He’s my father and no matter how many mistakes he does, nothing could change the fact that fact.

I have suspected this all along, but I held on to the glimmer of hope that finally, after more than 40 years, he’s finally getting over his addiction.  But then again, I shouldn’t lose all hope.  Why should I become despondent over my father’s state when God hasn’t given up on him?

Perhaps, he’s the cross that I’ve got to carry.  I couldn’t promise to carry my cross with patience, but I can sure promise to try the way I’ve tried for the past years.  I just pray for God to guide me in everything I do and help me watch my tongue so I can be of help to my father…

What Do I Want To Be? September 20, 2009

What do I want to be?

I have first met this question in my younger days. Back when my eyes still reflected childish innocence, my stance reflected absolute trust and I was still the naive and unspoiled me… naive to think that everything in the world was rose colored; thinking that everyday of my life, I would have the presence of my loved ones within reach each time I need them. But alas, in real life, that’s just not to be!

What did I want to be back then? Hmmm, let me travel for a moment back into my childhood. Let me wander inside my chest of memories and rummage through the piled-up treasures…

I remember wanting to be like those stars gracing the silver screen — the singers because back then, my grandpa would encourage us to sing. He would make us, his grandchildren, compete with each other and our stage had been the long dining table. Oh, I always won; not because I sang the best but because I was my grandfather’s pet.

Then I grew up. And the answer to the question “What do I want to be?” evolved the way I evolved from childhood to young adulthood. At this time, the dream to invade the stage all but fizzled out — gone! At this point, I wanted to just write. In my college days, I used to be a part of the editorial staff of my school paper and I loved the experience. I loved being able to let my feelings and thoughts out in the open through the pen. I loved the relief when I could pour out those pent-up things inside my chest which remarkably made me feel a whole lot better, my heart too much lighter. But journalism in college just wasn’t in the options. I was a working student and no school in the city where I lived offered the course. I took up education half heartedly instead — half heartedly because I never planned nor dreamed to be a teacher. I wanted to be something else. I wanted to be someone I can never be.

The years rolled by  — I have finally completed my degree and have worked as a teacher for the past twelve years — an experience I find fulfilling and overwhelming at the same time. Inside the classroom, I could be a clown, I could be an actress, I could be a counselor, I could be a friend, I could be a confidante, I could be a director, I could be an artist, I could be anything I think myself to be. With my students, I have been able to explore areas in my personality which I haven’t even realized was there all along. Yes, I never wanted to be a teacher; but I have fully understood now that it was God’s plan that I be a teacher so I can explore the full potential of my being me —–because that’s what He always wanted.

I now have children. Children whose lives are still slowly unfolding like pretty rosebuds just starting to open and bloom —lives that are, as of now, still filled with uncertainties —because only the Supreme Being up there knows for sure what He has planned for my daughters. The song “Que Sera, Sera” voice my sentiments exactly:

Que sera, sera; whatever will be, will be

The future’s not ours to see

Que sera sera…

What do I want to be?

I still ask myself the question. I have never stopped asking myself the question. But every time I do, I find myself thinking more of my daughters’ welfare — not my own anymore. I find myself weaving dreams for my children. I find myself looking forward into the unknown future trying to visualize what kind of lives my daughters will lead. And when I do, I find myself praying that God will be the wind beneath my daughters’ wings. That God will keep my girls under the security and safety of His loving care and protection.

My children are not my own. They are simply entrusted to me by God to nurture, to care for and to love. I could never claim perfection as a parent  — I can only pray for God’s guidance on how I can guide my girls nearer to God.

What do I want to be? I ask myself again…

And my answer is this: To be a responsible caretaker of the most precious gifts I have ever received from God — my husband and my daughters.