Falling In ‘Love’

Sunday, November 6th, 2005

Of all misconceptions about love the most powerful and pervasive is the belief that ‘falling in love’ is love or at least one of the manifestations of love. It is a potent misconception, because falling in love is subjectively experienced in a very powerful fashion as an experience of love. When a person falls in love what he or she certainly feels is ‘I love him’ or ‘I love her’. But two problems are immediately apparent. The first is that the experience of falling in love is specifically a sex-linked erotic experience. We do not fall in love with our children even though we may love them very deeply. We do not fall in love with our friends of the same sex-unless we are homosexually oriented – even though we may care for them greatly. We fall inlove only when we are consciously or unconsiously sexually motivated. The second problem is that the experience of falling in love is invariably temporary. No matter whom we fall in love with, we sooner of later fall out of love if the relationship continues long enough. This is not to say that we invariably cease loving the person with whom we fell in love. But it is to say that the feeling of ecstatic lovingness that characterises the experience of falling in love always passes. The honeymoon always ends. The bloom of romance always fades.

words written by M. Scott Peck in his book ‘The Roadless Travelled.’

Is it okay if I call you Mine?

a Kismet column

ONCE I have a conversation with a friend in a place called “Bantod.” With
sandwiches and Coke in cans while watching the sunset, we shared
childhood stories. When it was my turn to speak, the clouds were like
two people laughing.

Behind it, vanilla sky looks like a lady crying. I stopped and
said, quoting James Taylor’s song, “Is it okay If I call you mine?” My
friend hummed the song as I pointed to him the figures in the sky. “Oh
yeah!” he said. Then we have this unforgettable conversation:

“Why does someone have to feel the pain when he/she is in love?”
Have you also asked? I actually don’t know the answer but then I have
to say something. So I told him “…maybe because sometimes we have to
be in pain to realize how powerful love is.” “Then why can’t people
accept this truth? Isn’t it that to love is simply to do the will of
the beloved? Because when you love someone you don’t own the person -
nor have authority or power over the person rather you risk yourself by
allowing another person to tame you. Like friendship – we become
responsible for our friends but we never own them. I think this is
love. Perfect, free,” he said.

My friend was actually suffering from leukemia. I could feel his
pain and wished it were mine – at least I could bear his pain for a
while. I could feel his weariness when he talks or looks at me but he
never whined. Everyday, our routine would be to open his letters and
then I’d read it for him. Then we will talk and talk about life and its
complexities.

I cried while staring at him in bed or in his wheelchair – how
beautiful he is and perfect only if he is mine. When I stop crying, he
will hold my hand and say: “It’s just dying, we will meet again. I’ll
always be up there to guide you–I’ll be a star different from all the
stars because we’re friends. You’ll know it.” He smiled wearily.

In his weakest moments, bedridden in the hospital, I kept on
watching him, trying to hide my tears as the illness slowly kills him.
Yet he still smiles and tells me: “When I’m gone, don’t cry for I’ll
never get to heaven if I see you cry.” It hurts but I have to be strong
for him. He gave me the strength when he smiled and when he made me
laugh.

Ironic though, I should have been the one to help him capture every moment with him but I was weaker than him.

When I tell this to friends they feel sad but I’m not, I only miss
him. What matter is that he is up there smiling at me. I could see his
smile when I attended my first prom. He knows I’ll never wear a gown or
a dress. I’ll rather wear jeans and shirt, but he said: “I know I won’t
be here when the day comes – I’m leaving but wear this gown for
me…even if I won’t see you. Know that I am with you.” I felt guilty
that day. And so, even in my stubbornness I wore the silk red gown,
took a picture of myself that he never got to see.

It was painful. I cried silently for a week – not only because he
is already gone but because I never told him that I always cared.
Anyhow, I’ve learned so much about life – strength, hope, trust and
love. Someday, if I’ll have another chance I will ask him: “Is it okay
if I call you mine?” The song that would always remind me of him. It
sounds corny but what matters is making a precious moment last by
telling the people we love what we feel.

The day after I found myself on my feet again, I made a vow: Never
loose the moment to simply say the words “I love you” or “I care”
because in another time, it will be different. Tell your family,
friends, teachers and others whom you care about that you love them.
Who knows, we’ll die any moment.

GARLIC SPROUT

EACH time I enter
someone’s kitchen, I would always look for garlic. I don’t know what
draws me to it. It doesn’t taste exquisitely delicious or possess an
aromatic fragrance, so maybe I am just being careful. For years, garlic
has been perceived to drive away bad spirits, from the days of Count
Dracula to demons.

As a child, I would imagine that people who don’t have it at home
are vampires or demons and keep boa constrictors in their bedrooms.

Sometimes, I would go to our kitchen and take a clove of garlic and
hide it under my pillow for fear that a vampire might visit me and sip
my blood. At times, I would put garlic on small openings to protect me
from snakes. On some occasions, I would encourage my mom to grow
“garlic vine,” a plant with purple flowers which smells like garlic,
for fear that snakes will enter our vicinity.

True or not, one thing I’m sure is that garlic has medicinal
potentials. Some people even chew it as a first aid for high blood
pressure. My mom would always tell me that it’s a potent antibiotic.
Thus, I end up chewing garlic mixed with brown sugar or honey when I
have cough or flu. At times, I crush and dilute it in lukewarm water
for stomach indigestion or diarrhea.

If I’m sick in bed and about to take garlic as medicine, I would
picture myself as Dorothy of the Wizard of Oz in her ruby shoes
standing on the yellow brick road – fearful but courageous – so that I
could stand its chili, spicy taste. After my fill, I would be in good
shape – and healthy for the whole year, without fever or flu.

A favorite author named “Uncle Leo,” as what my friends and I call
him, wrote about his experience wearing garlic on his neck because his
mom told him it will protect him from harm. True enough, he was never
absent in his entire school life. It’s not that it’s good luck but as
what my mama says, “It’s a potent antibiotic.”

But then I ignored my garlic maintenance and now, I got asthma,
allergies, etc. Name an illness and I got it, making me dependent on
steroids and synthetic drugs. I take them because it’s easier. I don’t
have to crush or chop them anymore, but still there’s nothing more
effective than chewing garlic on days when your resistance is low.

Intrigued by this garlic mystery, my Art teacher said: “I’ll let
you solve your own ‘Still Life.’ I’ve observed your bewilderment about
those garlic sprouts you found on the fridge. It will be your subject.”
Of all subjects, why “Garlic Sprouts,” I asked? Despite my hesitation,
I followed his instructions like any good student. I start to paint and
with each few strokes, I would pause and chuckle.

But as I stared at my work, I saw that it lacks perspective. The
colors are dull. The garlic sprouts need more life – a pinch of
viridian, a strip of crimson, a brush of burnt amber, a sprinkle of
yellow ochre and blue, a wisp of titanium white and many more.

Seeing these, I realized that garlic is not only a seasoning or a
spice. It is also a reminder of little things that are important. So
goes the saying, “great things come in small packages.”

My garlic mania changed from a simple cure and defense against
mythical beings to something that gives life. This basic spice in our
kitchen becomes special as it speaks when it grows, dances when sautéed
with other spices and exudes emotions with its “garlic aroma.”

As my painting subject, I’m proud to say that GARLIC has a mystery more interesting than any Grisham or Clancy novel.

May you give garlic a try.
 

An article for my column KISMET

induced amnesia (Kismet Column)

)

Monday, November 7th, 2005

AMNESIA – according to the thesaurus is a
noun meaning loss of memory. Sometimes it is caused by an accident -
where the head was hurt or bumped with force.

Remember our daily routine. Passing the same street, meeting the
same people and going to the same house and all of a sudden we exist in
a strange place without even knowing our names. This is amnesia. Two
years ago, I’ve watch a movie starring Jim Carey in a movie titled,
“Majestic.” It explored the theme on amnesia.

Everyday, we also experience “simple amnesia.” We’re introduced to
Jane and when we bump into her five days later, we hate ourselves
because we can’t remember her. (Is it amnesia?) Well, maybe because we
didn’t listen when she was introduced or maybe, there’ nothing
significant in the meeting at all. Whichever, we still have a loss of
memory.

Three weeks ago, a friend told me this: “I was standing in front of
the library waiting for the rain to stop. Pissed as I was because my
uniform was already drenched with dirt, I stood there for 30 minutes
and I felt sick. I felt like vomiting because my migraine and asthma
were killing me. I wish I were dead. But then, huh, I’m still alive.”

Yesterday, I ask her how was the rain? She told me: “I felt good
and the rain was a blessed moment.” I raised my eyebrows and said,
smiling, “Amnesia.”

Forgetfulness, but what about when we can’t forget something we
want to forget? With it, comes my favorite term, “induced amnesia.” I
always laugh every time I get across this phrase because it makes me
reminisce something I want to forget and yet I can’t. Again, I induce
myself to an amnesia.

I was in Cebu once and got lost in a street they call “Happy
Valley” – only to know that it’s a place where people get to enjoy
themselves with prostitutes. It didn’t scare me. I continued walking
and then two guys asked me, “Hey, do you want to be happy?” I told
them: “Nah! I am happy!”

When I reached my destination, I told my companions what happened.
I was trembling with fear when I realized where I’ve been. I don’t want
to have that feeling anymore so I have used “induced amnesia” as my
defense mechanism.

I know you also have those weird situations when you want to induce
yourself to amnesia. Whatever it is, we just can’t forget it.

A good professor told me once, “I don’t really believe that the
opposite of love is hate rather – apathy.” “Why?” I asked, curious of
her answer. “You know when you say you hate the person or it – you’re
actually thinking about the person or it. Whereas, in apathy – you
don’t feel anything. You don’t care. Don’t you think it’s a good way to
get rid of annoying people in your life?” I looked at her and nodded,
“Yes.”

It’s one of those moments when I get to realize that we could
always do away with things by being apathetic. Induced amnesia. I don’t
really want you to adapt it but there are things we just have to do if
we don’t want to have such feelings.

If you try this, just be responsible. Sometimes, we need to be
apathetic to some unnecessary memories to protect ourselves, and I
might as well learn to induce myself to amnesia to forget I felt sleepy
while writing this article.

DREAMING OF PAMPERING ONESELF

By Wein P. Gadian
Kismet

It’s been a while and now I’m back with special stories to share. In the past month, other than my hectic schedule and new friends added to my friendster.com account, I have many memorable experiences.

I just laughed my heavy workload out. But I would admit I’m still an insomniac, and then I realized I also had a selective amnesia. I once forgot to put sugar on my coffee and, believe it or not, I forgot even my name. An embarrassing moment which made a friend laugh. I was trying
to open my email account but I forgot my password. I found out later my password was just my name. (See, I’m lost).

Apart from that, I also can’t find my way in the dark. I stepped on the wrong track, stumbled, and hurt my foot. This is because I have an astigmatism which I have my doctor checked once in a while. Sometimes I got tears in my eyes people think I’m crying. It’s could be helpful though especially when I want people to have pity on me. I don’t have to overact, my tears come out naturally.

Personal concerns aside, I went to Concepcion to discuss with Mayor Raul Banias the program on the nourishment of children and I visited their Gawad Kalinga community. I was informed that Concepcion has been awarded for being a child-friendly municipality. I got insights from the mayor. Words of wisdom, I should say. His dream is to make Concepcion zero poverty community. It takes a great leader to do it though but I believe it’s not impossible for Mayor Banias or “Doc” (as what he’s called by friends and colleagues). His political will reflects in his works.

After my talk with the mayor, I realized that I, too, could make a difference in my own little way. I may not be one of the “heroes of the century,” but I know can serve my community by doing my job excellently.

PAMPERING one’s self. So much for idealism and dreaming. Let me put you in the reality mode. I am not a practicing psychologist anymore. My job now is more on “having your own business” job. My friends would call it “travel and food job” which means I now weigh more than I did before, making me feel depressed about it I have to do some bodily-kinesthetic exercises. I know that a person’s metabolism slows down when he/she gets older but I just have to eat high-protein food. I have to stay healthy if I want to continue making a difference in other people’s lives.

Still on taking care of one’s self, I went to a spa to rejuvenate. I was with a friend, her mom, and sister. It was my first time to be in the spa so I was very keen on the design and facilities. The place was cozy enough that I wanted to stay there for good. We had the Shiatzu and Swedish combination massage. Shiatzu is a stretching type massage while Swedish gives you the feel of oil being applied all over your body. With the combination, we all enjoyed the benefits of stretching and essential oils (a mixture of olive oil and peppermint) rubbed all over our bodies.

Office work can be taxing so in the end, I would feel so tired I can’t go on gimmicks on weekdays, and even on weekends. I invite friends to watch films or drink coffee with me, but then they could not join me sometimes. So when I’m alone, I spend time cooking or gardening at home.

I say, that amid the realities of life, we have to pamper ourselves once in a while. Go go ahead, find time to do it. You owe it to yourself.

TSINELAS

By Wein P. Gadian
KISMET

HAVE you ever wondered why we always look for our tsinelas when we get home from office or school? Is it because we’re used to it or has it become a habit? Have you ever asked yourself how long have you been doing such? Or, maybe it’s our culture to change into our tsinelas when we get home.

While some prefer to use their shoes or to be barefoot, we Filipinos would always look for our tsinelas.

What connotes this small yet essential pair of objects is the “idea of having something you can’t live without.” Something we’re comfortable with, giving us a soothing effect and calm sensations to make us simply sit back and relax. Our own tsinelas. Come to think of it, it’s like your “SOLE-MATE.” When you’re in the middle of a journey and your soles ache…voila! — there goes your tsinelas! A moment when you realize it is important.

A moment like when you’re lost and alone but you feel secure because you can still walk with it and you won’t be alone – no matter how long the road would be. Whether you like it or not, you just have to admit, it’s going to be your partner in every journey. Too often, we forgot about the importance of these two objects comforting our feet but then, here it goes…we all need this comfortable thing that gives us the relaxation, the security we dream of.

Slippers — do you know they are also our partners? In Korean, it’s “jipshindo jjaki itda” or straw slippers. It connotes that wives are like slippers to their husbands. Every time they arrive home, their wives become the most comfortable person to be with. A loved one — whom they could simply tell everything they want, who’ll be there to bring them joy, peace and love.

Our tsinelas are like our significant other, someone we could spend our time with and we can share with our intimate moments. It’s our loved one who give us a sense of freedom. Someone who brings that smile on our faces when we wake up everyday, who reminds us that life is beautiful. It’s also like someone who brings us the good things in life but comes with the risk of learning to let go.

Like when we buy a new pair in exchange for an old one, we always look for those same tsinelas. It’s like when we experience breakups or heartaches. We don’t actually forget what happened, rather we put it in our memory until someone new comes to bring us joy. It is then that we learn to let go.

Oftentimes, we choose our tsinelas by its brand name. The more expensive, the better — but only to realize that having it gives us all the worries. We worry that it might be lost, get dirtied, or worse, broken or damaged. The same way for those we love. Too often, we set criteria for them, only to regret it in the end.

When we’re in love, at times we don’t know we’ve changed. The usual things we believe are lost and we find new meaning in life. No matter how rough the road, we feel secure because we’re not alone, we’re with our loved one.

Like our tsinelas, it changes us once we arrive home and put it on. Alas! Our feet are free! Comfort, that’s what it’s all about, and meeting a soulmate is also the same.

No matter what the world tells us – what matters is we’re comfortable with him or her and, that someone will not just bring us comfort but would be there to give us LOVE. Ask me if I found mine, I would gladly tell you. But if you ask does he know or is he comfortable with me? I don’t know.

All I know is that I would always love my slippers and if I get lost, I’ll find my way looking for it. Comfort – yes, I always want it – and I’m glad to go home knowing a pair of tsinelas is waiting for me. If someday, it will be a loved one, then I’ll be more blessed. So have you found your tsinelas?

One Sweet Day

By Wein Gadian
Kismet

THIS is a story of my friend who called me to meet and talk over a cup of coffee. I was actually bound to see the sunset since I was running out of words to write or rather, I was again suffering from writer’s block. But my friend was insistent and because it’s been years since we last saw each other, so I agreed.

It was a sunny afternoon. I changed into a pair of jeans and met her at the coffee shop.

I could not believe it was her. She was wearing a simply cut butter yellow floral dress. I remember she used to be the boyish type who would rather wear shorts, a tee and a pair of rubber shoes. My amazement didn’t stop there. She was wearing earrings — the kind of thing she wouldn’t have dared to wear before.

It can’t be her, I told myself and decided to go home but she called my name.

I still couldn’t believe it. The girl that I used to give advice to, saying she is a girl no matter what she does, was beautiful and had a grace I have not seen before.

People change, I told myself as we exchanged our hellos. We enjoyed reminiscing and laughing at our childishness in the old days.

In front of our half-filled coffee mugs, we talked about our melodramatic life. She confessed her heartwarming story that got me almost into tears.

With her consent, I will share it with you. May you find it remarkable and learn from it. Here’s her story:

“I once had a friend who always held me when I was afraid, kept me awake when I was sleepy and made me laugh when I wanted to cry. I could call him and talk for long hours over the phone during late nights. Our friendship did not stop with chatting over the phone or exchanging notes. It grew until college, during the times that he was in love and during his break-ups and until we had jobs.

“I used to support him and praise him for the good things he did but I was scared the day I knew he was leaving because he had to work abroad. I trembled when I said, ‘Go. Anyway, we’ll see each other.’

“‘But I’ll miss you, it’s just that this what my family wants,’ he said, with worry that was evident in his eyes. I felt his sadness but we knew we had to be strong.

“So I said, ‘Opportunities knock only once. It won’t be hard when you’re there and you’ll get used to it.’

“Smiling, he replied, ‘It will be sad there, you know that. My friends won’t be there. It’s a strange place and I don’t know anyone.’

“‘You are strong and believe you can survive. Your friends won’t be there but we are with you in spirit. You take care.’ I choked on my words. I lied but it was the only way to move on.

“We spent the day reminiscing and he told me he loved me and that he doesn’t want to hurt me. I looked at him, uncertain of what I’ve heard. Nevertheless, I told him that I know. It was then that I felt strange knowing he was looking at me. That was our last real talk.

“Two days before he was due to leave, our conversations were on movies, records and the malls, not on love and his leaving.

“I was confused on the day he left. I didn’t send him off to the airport. I was afraid I might not make it without him. I didn’t even bother to ask where I could reach him. I was sad but I was to blame.

“I was scared of losing, of not seeing him, of falling in love because I wanted us to have our dream. We had so much to prepare for.

“I was a coward, that I didn’t give myself a chance to say that I also loved him. It’s now killing me — that I ignored the fact that I cared for and loved him.

“God gave me a delightful gift, but it’s too late now because I can’t find him.

“What I had with him was a beautiful memory. It has helped me grow and taught me how to take life seriously.

“People may say that I’m stupid for losing myself to someone. I won, but it did not stop me from believing that love is perfect because love wins in the end.

“Somewhere out there, I believe we’ll find each other if we’re meant to be. But now, wherever he is, I only want to tell him, ‘I’m really proud of you. I know it’s not easy being pushed in many directions by so many responsibilities in one’s life. But one can do it by holding on tightly to one’s dream, until it becomes a beautiful reality. There’s a wonderful tomorrow and I want you to know that I believe in you and wish you a bright future and hope-filled dream.”

being real

By Wein Gadian
Kismet

COMMUNICATION refers to a process by which someone or something is made common, that is, it is shared. If you tell me a secret, then you and I possess a common knowledge of your secret, and you may have communicated it to me. But you have much more to communicate to me, if you wish to, than merely one of your secrets.

You can tell me who you are, just as I can tell you I am.

These are the words of John Powell in his book “Why Am I Afraid To Tell You Who Am I?” which struck me the most. I do believe that our society today places great emphasis on being authentic, being real.

A dean of a College of Liberal Arts once said in a speech that Artians (referring to students who study in the College of Liberal Arts) are authentic.

That to be authentic is to study hard, to be a good leader and to listen to the teachers. But I’m confused in my experiences and observations in an educational institution with the problems on leadership, politics, rivalry and other issues, that I hesitate to believe this claim of authenticity. And who can prove the essence of authenticity; does it really exist? Allow me to share my own analysis of authencity based on what I’ve read.

According to John Powell, “Nowadays, authenticity connotes playing mask over the face of our “real” selves, and of playing roles which disguise our true and real selves. I say, because the implication is that somewhere, inside you and inside of me, lurk our real selves.

Supposedly, this real self is a static and formed reality. There are moments when this real self of ours shines out of us; there are other moments when we felt compelled to camouflage our real self. I must sight justification in this manner, and it can be more misleading than helpful. There is no fixed, true and real person inside of you or more precisely because being a person necessarily implies becoming a person, being in process.”

It is really hard to tell others who we are but to be authentic or to be real towards others we must do it–though I myself am hesitant to do it–to grow as a person. I always think of what should and what should not be included in writing speeches, articles, stories or essays because I’m concerned of how people will react. But sometimes, the “written or the delivered me” is overpowering that I loose myself in it.

One time I heard Britney Spears’ song “Sometimes” and I hummed with it and I realized that it’s an honest piece. An authentic one, we can relate to it. It goes, “Sometimes I run, sometimes I hide, sometimes I’m scared of you but all I really want is to hold you tight, treat you right. Be with you day and night, baby all I need is time.”

It conveys that if we allow ourselves to be real, to be honest, we set ourselves free. Though we may confuse it sometimes with the saying, “Sometimes we do things because it feels good, and how can it be wrong when it’s right?” I agree too, but the song is not contradicting. It only emphasizes the need, our need to sometimes acknowledge our emotions. We all have a need to be the real us, to be true.

I believe that I have something to share with the people I encounter everyday. These things are the little realizations that I’ve learned in books, in relationships and in my struggles.

As Leo Buscaglia cites in his book Living, Loving and Learning, “An investment in life is an investment in change…when you are changing all the time, you’ve got to continue to keep adjusting to change, which means you are constantly facing new obstacles. That’s the joy of living. And once you are involved in the process of becoming, there is no stopping. You’re doomed, you’re gone! But what a fantastic journey!”

In my years of living, I’ve went through indifference and tried to overcome it. I believe that to be a friend to others is to trust and to allow ourselves to be open to change–to be truly human is to learn to trust again, to believe and to take a risk.

We have to get in touch with “being human” and, that’s the difference.

SUNSET HAVEN

Kismet  By Wein Gadian

written for a weekly column

A WEEK ago, I was in Boracay to supervise a project. Planning for the trip was not as exciting as the first time I went there,considering that we have to be in Boracay by 10 a.m. It means my colleagues and I have to leave Iloilo at 4 a.m. Too early, but it always pays to be obedient to your boss. Of course, it was a tiresome travel. Imagine, waking up at 3:30 a.m. to prepare for the trip? I would have wanted to sleep more but it just can’t be. We were on the road for six hours and sleepy as we are, without a radio signal and music to play, we have to entertain ourselves the best way we can. We cracked jokes even if our jaws are still too weary to laugh and even sang our favorite songs. We couldn’t sleep as our driver-colleague requested us to be awake.In my mind, I pictured the Boracay sunset just to keep myself awake. We dropped by Leganes to buy pan de sal and one thing I learned is, if you’re tired, think of food. In Sigma, Capiz, we ate breakfast and after a few hours we reached our destination. From the moment we arrived, it’s been work and it was only until 3:30 p.m. that we went back to our hotel. My colleagues took a nap while enjoyed my bath. By the time they woke up, I was ready to watch the sunset. I’ve been going to Boracay for years, but it was my recent visit, which was different. It was perfect. Before, I didn’t have the time to swim or to enjoy the beautiful sunset. It was only during this visit that I told myself, it’s so nice to live here forever. The beach still has its overpowering energy that would left me breathless and empty of worries. Watching the sunset from the shore was just too perfect for me. I’m not a sentimental freak but I always fall in love with nature’s simplicity. I’ve written too many times about sunsets, about the ocean and the forests – but nothing compares to the experience I had there. Aside from the hike and the beach, there were drums, guitar, flute, saxophone and piano under the moonlight. I may be a hopeless romantic but these are the things I enjoyed the most. The cool breeze, the soft white sand. These are the things that I know I’ll miss when I go back to the city. I found serenity and peace by simply watching people swim and little girls and boys laugh as they play with sandcastles. After months of being in the office, it was the first time I felt secure, felt peaceful. Maybe it was the place, the mood or the moonlight glistening in the ocean. On our last night, we checked out the bars. I watched the people, observed their behavior. The bars were okay but I expected something really unique than the ones in the city. I didn’t find it though. And since I’m not really into dancing, I stayed in a corner and watched my friends. I also watched the stars above me as the music played. Yes, I’ve been going to Boracay for years but it would be my recent visit that I would remember most. A perfect experience, indeed, and I’m thankful for it.

Cancer:getting on with life

a reflection after hearing a 9 year old girl in the hospice shared her story during one of my visit.

how would you take it if one day you found out you have cancer? will you live your life the same as how you live it now? Will you take it as a blessing or as a misery? We will have mixed emotions. some of us may take it positively and others may take it the other way. Yet however which way we choose to accept it – we will end up to a point of probability…

of dying at a certain point when we think we want to give more to life. of suffering in moments when we think it’s the best time to be happy. of experiencing pain when we know too well we don’t deserve it. whatever our situation may be – CANCER will always be there. It will not choose its prey. and we have the possibilities of getting it.

i am not an excuse to it.i don’t know why but maybe its another road to track, another cross to bare.i don’t know what to do at first — so i kept it from the people i love afraid that their pain might cause me more misery…i embrace my cross alone with my God.Everyday asking him to give me one more day to live and do what i should do. i went on with my job without anyone knowing. my weight fluctuates time and again but i would pray for miracles – that the people i love will not see a trace of pain. I get on with my life. I enjoyed the little things- i know my time won’t be long.and i’ll be gone but i only wish for grace that’ll sustain me in those last hours of my agony but at the moment i would want to do the best out of my life as long as i live.

i know when the time comes the ’self help’ books could do nothing to change my destiny. A miracle perhaps can – if i’ll still have another chance. it’s not easy to have CANCER – it is never a joke and no matter how strong you are, the pain is there killing you softly. i want to be brave for myself – for the people i love but i know i can’t do it alone now that i felt the cancer grows more and more everyday. that my body will soon give up because it will not accept the medicines. and maybe i will not be hearing the voices of the people i love. or see the beauty of the world…

God knows what will happen. and yes, flashbacks of memories of days when i was a little girl growing into someone everyone would love. and reflecting back in my life (of which i would leave in few a moments) i know i am bless. it may not be financial blessings but more to it…the presence of people i wanted to be there in the last hours of my life. of people i never expected to be there with me in the pains and sufferings. i am bless of those who have hurt me a thousand times because they thought i am strong. i am bless because i have risk and taken my chances in the confusions of life…i am bless because i have a family…i am bless and more because i have my God. No one compares to Him – - He alone has given me the grace and the peace I always wish for. and though i walk in the valley of the shadow of death i will fear no evil for my God will be with me.

Today, maybe the last day of my life — I will not waste it to ponder over things i cannot control but rather on things i know i can make a difference. things which i’ve thought lost but today i will celebrate and be merry who knows what happens tomorrow but today i will rejoice. CANCER may kill me physically but it will never take my love for my family, friends. it’ll never take hope or peace…it will never win over anything.and with these i will take a step and live until my last breathe.