Time For Some Good News

Halleluiah! There’s always a silver lining after a storm. A hope of a new day. And as we are being drowned with sad news, there is definitely a time for some good news.

The Philippines’ Pambansang Kamao Manny Pacquiao arrived Manila with the whole nation rejoicing over his latest victory over Mexican boxer David Diaz. The Pac Man is an epitome of the Filipinos’ fighting spirit in the midst of problems that has punched the nation left and right. Fuel prices ALWAYS going up. Rice shortage. Typhoon devastations. Grief-stricken families of the Princess of the Stars victims. Unreliable Government officials. Inflation. Self-centered Business owners. And just as this list goes on and on, a hardworking boxer shows us the road to claim victory through faith in God and faith in oneself. His homecoming is a silver lining after a storm. A hope of a new day. A promise that good things are on our way.

Indeed, it is time for some good news. I just came home from a hospital confinement, and thankful that I agreed to have the procedure after putting it off for quite sometime. My anxiety for what-ifs over ruled my capacity to arrive at better decisions, undermining my state of health. I always kept myself busy with work and with a lot of other things, that putting my health on top priority was nowhere in my list. But no matter how we neglect ourselves, God always have a way of carrying out His plans for our good.

There I was, sitting on an operating table, bent like a shrimp.

I was praying when that cold spray on my back and the gauge 27 spinal needle was tapped onto my lower spine. In a few winks, the general anesthesia numbed me from waist down. I complained difficulty in breathing when they placed me in a lying position, so they had to immediately put me back in a sitting position. Nurses took turns asking me questions to maybe check if “I’m still with them”, to which I mustered to mumble some answers in a slow motion way. In less than 5 minutes, hearing the anesthesiologist mentioning my hemoglobin count, I suddenly felt a gush of air inside me that “refreshed” me and made me say “I’m now okay”. I was completely awake during the whole procedure which was done in less time than I expected. Afterwards, the whole two hours went by with me having the chills, feeling unpleasantly cold, apparently the effect of the anesthesia in my system. Gladys, my OR nurse, kept asking me how I feel, and as soon as I was able to slightly move my feet, and told her that I’m okay, I was brought back to my room to sleep and rest.

Now I’m here at home resting very well. Although I’m still comparatively moving slower than usual, and moving extra careful especially of my back (lower spine area), I can say that everything is going well. I have to go back to my doctor next Friday for the biopsy result, and I believe that more good news will come my way.

Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man and said, “I will. Be Healed!” Matthew 8:3 ….. Oh the power of a godly touch. Haven’t you known it? The doctor who treated you, or the teacher who dried your tears? Was there a hand holding yours at the funeral? Another on your shoulder during a trial? A handshake of welcome at a new job?... Can’t we offer the same? Many of you already do. Some of you have the master touch of the Physician himself. You use your hands to pray over the sick and minister to the weak. If you aren’t touching them personally, your hands are writing letters, dialing phones, baking pies. You have learned the power of a touch. But others of us tend to forget. Our hearts are good; it’s just that our memories are bad. We forget how significant one touch can be… Aren’t we glad Jesus didn’t make the same mistake?

– Max Lucado, Just Like Jesus

Typhoon Frank

It was a chilling and heart wrenching sight watching the news these past few days. My country, the Philippines, was terribly hit by Typhoon Frank last weekend and it brought much devastation not only on properties and businesses, but a lot of lives were lost. And the greatest news and probably the most fatal is the overturning and sinking of the passenger ferry MV Princess of the Stars, with more than 800 people onboard. It was reported that only 57 people survived this latest sea mishap. This means that hundreds of people were either trapped inside the sea vessel under the sea, or were lost to the angry waves and still not found.

It melts my heart to see the victims’ relatives grieving – completely uncertain of what has become of their loved ones, losing all hope of ever seeing them again. As their grief turn into anxiety, anxiety into despair, and despair into rage, I can’t help but just close my eyes and be grateful that most of my loved ones are still here, and that the only “frustrating” thing that happened was floodwater coming inside our house which had us cleaning for 2 days. I am definitely not complaining!

But this is definitely a time for us to bow our heads and offer prayers for our country and our countrymen greatly affected by this tragedy. It is good to know that most private sectors and non-government organizations have already started coming up with donation drives for the victims and not just wait for the government’s action. At a time like this, pointing fingers on who’s to blame isn’t really gonna solve the problem. Let us just do and give what we can to help and ease the burden. And the rest we leave it up to God.

Dead Dads Club

(This blog was written and published last June 15, 2008, Father's Day).

“Welcome to the Dead Dads Club!”

These are Cristina Yang’s words to George O’Malley after the latter’s dad died in Seattle Grace Hospital. I am, of course, referring to a scene in one of the episodes (from the third season) of Grey’s Anatomy. (hello?? Need I say that Grey’s Anatomy is the hit American TV series about medical interns at Seattle Grace Hospital?). In that scene, no amount of comforting words and sympathetic gestures from fellow interns seem to work for the devastated George. Somehow, the scene gave me a familiar feeling that made it quick for me to relate.

Dead Dads Club. I didn’t get it at first. Did I hear it right? Dead Dads Club. Then it hit me. Oh of course I know why. I AM A MEMBER. But because I do not acknowledge my membership 24/7, I needed a Cristina Yang to make me acknowledge that fact. Now It actually dawned on me. I am now completely aware of my membership, along with a lot of people that I know who are club-members too.

There’s my husband. His mom. My mom. A number of my uncles and aunts, a great number of my cousins and friends. My own father was a member for 29 years before unintentionally placing his own children into the club. I have one neighbor that is also a member, which at least is a a good thing knowing for a fact that a lot of dads still live in the 21 homes that is on our street.

Dead Dads Club. I still remember quite vividly that fateful morning of April 6, 2001. The day that my Tatay (Filipino term for dad) inducted me into membership. It wasn’t at all pleasant. It was painful. It was dark, scary even. A lump-in-my-throat-can’t-breathe-get-me-out-of-here kind of mixture swirling around me as I froze numbly while everything that surrounded me move at a steady slow pace leaving me at the center, helpless. I’m not too sure if maybe this is one of the things newly inducted members go through before proceeding to the next level.

And so I figured. Random thoughts came into my mind. Dead Dads Club. Are there perks (?) that come from being a member? Are there levels that each member has to conquer? Silly questions with maybe some definite answers I don’t know where to get. But what I have now is a shortlist of my own random thoughts. Randomly, not numbered, not consecutive. Just random. Okay enough. Here it goes:

· The Dead Dads club is open for everyone. Young and Old, Rich and Poor, Male and Female. It doesn’t choose. No restrictions on age, gender, social status, or level of intelligence. An inevitable fact that everyone can be a possible member. Though everyone will ALWAYS have a degree of hesitation to join.

· EVERYONE avoids membership. Most, if not all, would do everything just to prolong their being “still-not-a-club-member” status. I don’t want to know of anybody who would be eager in joining. Everyone is a reluctant member.

· The club has a one-time membership fee, due at the time of daddy demise, paid with anything, usually a bucket of tears. No annual renewal of membership needed, because membership is lifetime. So don’t ever think of resigning. It’s just not possible.

· For most members, a number of months into the club brings forth their ability to be independent. Some would be bestowed with the wisdom of showing the best of their father’s legacy. Some may take a while. But mentorship is vastly available to those who are open for it

· Sometimes members may also be equipped with the believable sense of extending the sincerest sympathy to new members.

· Membership is often, if not always, painful. Realizing the painful fact that it’s your own father who dragged you into it, and worse because he’s never gonna be there to hold your hand, or see you through it. It is actually the start of the painful reality of him-never-gonna-be-there-with-you, well at least, physically.

· Members would ALWAYS feel a nudge in their heart every time they will be reminded of daddy memories. This is the If- only-I-could-turn-back-time syndrome.

· Members would dread the fact that they won’t get to show off whatever accomplishment they achieved to their dear dads. It would now be impossible to make their dads feel proud of them. At times like these, members recall the lessons preached to them and would now easily come to understand that it (the preaching) is for their best interest after all. This is the I-wish-he-could-see-this-and-be-proud-of-me syndrome.

· Members will miss their dads often. Especially during special occasions. This is the I-wish-he-is-still-here syndrome.

· Members lose all privileges of letting their dads feel how important they are in their lives. So it is an important pre-requisite for would-be members to have completed this task, while they still can, and way before time runs out. Some had the mistake of thinking this privilege (time to show love & respect) is unlimited. Sorry. It's not.

So there. The end of my shortlist. I just put into writing what’s randomly going on in my mind. Maybe because up until now, seven years into the club, I still get that sad feeling just thinking about my Tatay. I miss him. Although I don’t necessarily have that depressed feeling, I still get those days, those lump-in-my-throat-welling-of-tears-in-my-eyes kind of sadness every time I’m reminded that he’s gone. I just kick myself out of it the moment I look at myself and acknowledge his huge contribution to what I have, what I’ve become, and of what I will make of everything that’s been laid out for me. For some, who maybe didn’t have the kind of father that I had, I’m so sorry. I do know of some who were born into this world and never got the chance of knowing their real dads. And then there are people I know, who, for one reason or another, never saw their dads anymore after walking away from them. Which club do they belong? I don’t know. And this is certainly not about them. There are different situations and each has a different story. I’d like to believe that generally, fathers aimed to be the best father they know how. They tried and might have failed, but let’s not forget that we live in an imperfect world along with them. Didn’t we at times, made them accept the kind of children we have become even if we also tried and failed to become the kind that they hoped and wanted us to be?

So to everyone who still enjoy their being “still-not-a-club-member” status, do me a favor. It’s June 15, 2008 and it’s FATHERS DAY. Please make it an extra-ordinary day for your father. And as you do that, think of us who will probably spend it lighting a candle, and saying a prayer for the one who made us join the Dead Dads Club.

My Very First

Actually this isn't my very first blog. Could be called my second perhaps. But still, it is my very first in this Infinite Grace blogsite. I do have my multiply account : gracegab.multiply.com where I also blog, but I just tried this blogger site and typed away.....

Infinite Grace would be unbound. Meaning, the messages here would be about almost anything under the sun (oh yeah! trite as it may sound). Or at least, of how I see and feel about things that are of interest to me.

I'm hoping this would be the start of something good. A place where I can vent and unleash my infinte grace!