A Not So Holy Week

In my childhood Holy Week used to be extremely boring but back then there was still a sense of sacredness as we observe Maundy Thursday when Jesus’ sufferings begin which then leads to His crucifixion on a Good Friday up until Black Saturday when we no longer have a Father looking after us.

I can still recall how my siblings and I were not permitted to play around, to make any noise, to giggle or to laugh. Even the elders were not supposed to work or do anything at the strike of 3 o’clock in the afternoon in reverence to our Lord’s agony.

It’s not really too much compared to what Jesus has to suffer for us, minor sacrifices on our end and yet too enormous for some of us to bear.

Sadly, times and things have changed.

As a child I thought that when I am already a grown up my observance of this week will be more meaningful if not pious. I thought by now I will be more equipped with an understanding of why we practice this religious tradition.

For a while I was.

I used to do the station of the cross on my own. I used to walk an unknown number of kilometers to visit churches as part of my sacrifice sometimes with friends sometimes with my sister and one time with my brothers.

I’ve done “Alay Lakad” from San Jose Del Monte, Bulacan to The Divine Mercy Chapel in Marilao, Bulacan, from San Jose Del Monte to the famous Grotto in Tungko also in Bulacan, from Pembo, Makati to Antipolo, from Pembo, Makati to Pasig to Ortigas to Mandaluyong and to Baclaran to visit 13 churches but I stopped.

If it’s any consolation, I am already in my third year of doing the Visita Iglesia.

Along with four hundred other pilgrims from a parish in San Pedro, Laguna - we visited churches in the Ilocos region a week earlier than the usual . We prayed, we reflected and yes we had our share of discomforts, which I believe is part and parcel of taking on this commitment.

The heat could sometimes be unbearable even inside an airconditioned bus, the seat was not comfy enough for us to take a nap on the way to the next church and there is also the problem of not having enough time for bladder breaks and not enough rest rooms to accommodate everybody.

Despite the uneasiness it was all worth it not only because I am doing this for Him but because of one other personal reason.

I am not proud to admit this but one motivation why I started this devotion was because it offers me the chance to travel and visit places and old churches.

I have a thing for old churches. I love looking at them and taking their pictures. I could just sit and stare for as long as time will allow me and experience an undescribable joy of being inside these ancient structures. There's just something different from the churches in the provinces which I am yet to figure out.

After the visita iglesia I don’t think I’ve done anything exceptional to make my Holy Week meaningful except to hear mass with my family last Sunday to celebrate the resurrection our Lord.

My Holy Week was no longer boring but it was also insignificant.

Of writing and blogging

I have always wanted to be a writer and though I know I can write I also know that I am not good enough to be one.

And while I wonder as to how wonderful it would have been if I landed a career out of doing something I truly love I am thankful all the same I did not end up as writer with deadlines to beat, editors to please, readers to consider……….

Thanks to the concept of blogging, I have found a channel where I can write about anything under the sun at my own whim. No fear of being criticized for my errors and of being questioned about my opinions.

Recently, with the assistance of a friend, I have created an account here from out of of the many blog sites that sprouted in the world wide web.

But unlike my blogs from another site, my entries here are much too personal.

After a short-lived bout with self pity which was a result of a series of incidents that made me question my worth as a person and as a friend I have decided to create this site to write about things I can’t share even to my closest of friends and family.

Sometimes it pays to keep things to one self and though I am writing some of these things in a not so personal setting – the world wide web – I am at least protected with anonymity.

I wish for the strangers who may chance upon this site to see that I am writing of my angst and issues about people and about life with the sole purpose of freeing myself from pain and anger without hurting people

kontrabida

Just recently I overheard someone compare me to a TV series villainess.

I don’t watch the series but I have an idea who the antagonist is, I’m not sure though of how this villainess is perceived – a bitch or an evil?

The conversation was nothing but an exchange of whispers but it was so deafening it made me cringe from where I was seated.

I don’t need to look behind me to see who made the comparison but if it was a stranger or just an acquaintance this wouldn’t end up as my blog entry.

To hear someone whom I thought knows me better than that so casually compare me to a villain is unfair.

But after a short-lived “I-was-hurt” drama I’m glad I was able to see good things come out of this somewhat unpleasant encounter.

In the absence of malice, the listener in the conversation I overheard later on confirmed what I thought I heard and says that he thinks otherwise. He says that I am more comparable to the heroine. He may be pulling my sleeves or maybe his comparison was more on the physical side but I’d rather not entertain the idea. I don’t want to waste time overthinking how other people perceive me.

After a considerable moment spent on reflection I have decided against talking to the person. I realized that she is just the kind of catalyst I needed to assess my relationship with others and to correct the way I perceive and treat others.

I am no saint and I myself am guilty of passing judgments even to my friends so I guess I deserved this. Sabi nga ni Celine Dion in one of her song: “it’s all coming back to me now” - sa tagalog, karma!

a song for papa

Over and over I’d listen to Richard Poon as he croons his rendition of I’ll Take Care of You.

As the song is about love I have suddenly turned into a starry eyed, hopeless romantic imagining myself in a scene fit only for star cinema’s hottest love teams today.

There I was with Piolo Pascual shedding tears as he pledges his commitment to love me.

Sigh, sigh, sigh!

Like a drama series from the country’s number one network the story slowly unfolds in my mind.

Day after day the plot would change and when, finally, I have made up my mind that I am ready for a kissing scene with my leading man, I - unexpectedly, pictured the song in a different light.

I no longer see myself in a dream sequence with Piolo Pascual. 

Instead, I saw myself brushing my father’s hair of white 

with my bear hands, as I usually do.

I realized how appropriate the song is for us father and daughter tandem.

I want you to know that I love you so

I’m proud to tell the world you’re mine

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it once more

You’ll be in my heart ’till the end of time

I’ll take care of you

Don’t be sad, don’t be blue

Just count on me your whole life through

And I’ll take care of you

The song, partly, sums up my great love for my dear father.

I want to take care of him in this stage of his life when he is not only gray and old but ailing.

Once, I have made a major decission to take care of him and with that decission was the hope that he will again live a normal life.

But that hope vanished when the kidney i have donated him failed to function after twelve days.

That experience has not only left me with an 8-inch scar below my right rib cage but a scar that will forever be my reminder of how i truly loved and adored my father.

That’s when my passion for taking care of my Papa begun.

I know that there are other ways I can take care of him but if only I can still donate my left kidney, i will.