You know who you are and I know who I am.
And all I want to say is-
Loving you is as easy as ABC
You make our family life complete
Zany and zelous, wacky and crazy
All are but traits of my sister, our baby.
Thanks.
Friday, April 8, 2011
I choose to be positive
Yes, I choose to be positive. I tend to look at the brighter side of things instead of just wallowing in pain. And today,though I am tempted, I will not succumb to the nagging feeling at the pit of my stomach to burst into tears.
Peace. Peace. Peace. (inhale, exhale)
There you go...
I refuse to back down, I mean I know there have been a couple of set backs this week, and it is beyond reproach. I am aware of that. I do understand that it is also about business and I am up for it. Nevertheless, I am taking the high road and I will try to make everything through Gods grace better than it was before.
So, Lord please help me out here, I am sinking abit.
Lord, why the quick response? You know me so well. Thank you for giving me such a wonderful family. Even if I dont say anything, they know if I am feeling down and crappy. Its like an invisible wire attached in our souls, that when one tugs, the others easily feel it and come to the rescue. Thank you Lord. You alone know the whys, the hows and the wherefores of this world. To You I give my all.
Peace. Peace. Peace. (inhale, exhale)
There you go...
I refuse to back down, I mean I know there have been a couple of set backs this week, and it is beyond reproach. I am aware of that. I do understand that it is also about business and I am up for it. Nevertheless, I am taking the high road and I will try to make everything through Gods grace better than it was before.
So, Lord please help me out here, I am sinking abit.
Lord, why the quick response? You know me so well. Thank you for giving me such a wonderful family. Even if I dont say anything, they know if I am feeling down and crappy. Its like an invisible wire attached in our souls, that when one tugs, the others easily feel it and come to the rescue. Thank you Lord. You alone know the whys, the hows and the wherefores of this world. To You I give my all.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Choose me!
Before you proceed, let me explain that this was part of the email I sent to a prospective employer.
Initiative and consistency is the key component for succeeding in any given industry. You should choose me as I am very eager and excited to learn new things, am not afraid of asking questions and sharing ideas on how to improve processes. What may be good for others is not good enough for me, as I believe that the biggest competition is not anyone else but you. I have a vast and diverse experience that could be an arsenal in writing different articles. Do you want me to talk about the stock market? Do you want me to talk about APRs for credit cards and tricks to beat the interest and be debt free? Do you want me to talk about how to deal with the death of a loved one, and how the pain never really goes away? Do you want me to talk about what it feels like to study in an all-girls school? Don’t even get me started talking about crime scene investigation shows like CSI, NCIS, Criminal minds and even Dexter. If you want a fresh take on writing, choose me.
(Oh by the way, I dont beg, so I didn't end the email with a PLEASE, I just gave the computer a stare down, as I wrote the word, CHOOSE ME)
hi! my name is...
You may call me whatever you want, just make sure it doesn’t contain any profanities please! My Parents, bless their heart, had me christened with a one-of-a-kind, weird and long name. Trust me, its quite a mouthful. Even as a child, I had mixed emotions when it comes to my name. For one, I was happy in having such a unique name. I was never a plain Jane. My unique name has also given me a rare ability, as I immediately knew when the teacher was about to call my name, seconds before they even utter anything. It all starts with the frown, then a tongue twisting frustration comes next as they try to utter the first three syllables of my name. I would of course, rescue them, and simply say my name and sometimes, I even go the extra mile, and explain how it came about. My name however, has also given me grief, as it has given some of my classmates an avenue to pester me with so many nasty nicknames. Not to mention the hassle during exams, as by the time I finish writing my name, my classmates would have answered questions 3 or 4. Weeks ago, out of sheer boredom, I decided to google my name, just for the fun of it. I was after all, confident in knowing that my name is unique. Boy was I up for a huge disappointment. Not only did the search show multiple entries, most of them (probably all of them, as I did not have the heart to check them all) were male! I was thinking, “Lord, is this a sign? Was I supposed to be a man?---hahah) I immediately confronted my Mom and told her my findings, in her defense; she said that she got the idea for my name from Michael Douglas’ first wife, Deirdre. Oh well, to make the story short, I am seriously thinking of legally changing my name. Or not.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
My DAD, the BEST provider
Saturday
April 24, 2010
When they called my name, I quietly stood from my seat. Not knowing what to say. Not knowing where to start.
How can you say goodbye?
When your heart is aching just to steal just one embrace. When you're waiting for someone to wake you up from this horrible dream.
How can you say goodbye? When you cant even say those words, nor do you know the meaning of them.
Like a thief in the night, death came as a shock to our family, when my Dad passed on. It was around 8pm, while watching the evening news. My mom was busy mending my sister's shirt next to me, when my dad entered the room. He was so excited to tell us the story that he got from some of our neighbors. He sat down beside my sister and went on telling us about the "holligans" in our neighborhood who pocketed the funds given by some elected officials. I asked him "how could they do that?" My dad didn't answer my question which was odd, and so I looked at him waiting for a response. Like a flash, I saw my dad, collapse from the chair he was sitting to the foot of my sister's bed facedown.
My mind went blank for a second, and then I realized that I tried to catch his fall without me thinking, but I was a few seconds late. His chest area hit the floor before his head did. I turned him, calling out "Dad! Dad!" Thoughts were racing in my head, not knowing what to do. He was unconscious.
The next that I remembered was my mom, placing a medicine under my dad's tongue. He seemed to struggle or to say something, but no words came out of his mouth. I tried slapping his face, trying to wake him up. I even bit on his big toe as my mom instructed, but nothing. While this was happening, some of our neighbors rushed inside our room and helped us. They picked my dad up, and for some reason, I took my father's wrist, looking for a pulse. And to my relief, I a pulse, though weak, gave me a sense of hope that somehow everything will turn out okay.
That was the last time I saw my father alive.
He didn't even say goodbye.
Nor had we any inclinations that he would go so soon.
Not a clue.
Like a thief in the night, death came and took my Daddy away to the Father's bosom. To be with his Savior.
And now, I stood in front of the people who came to see my Dad one last time---to say goodbye to man that has touched their lives one way or the other.
And here I am, not ready to say goodbye.
When my dad was still alive, we often had some "misunderstandings". Please bear in mind however, that I came from a family that were highly intellectual. So clashing of the minds was frequent in our household. During dinner, we would have discussions on World History. When a game show was on, and the question needed brain power, my family would rev up to who can answer it first. My dad was a great debater. He majored in Political Science in College and would have gone to Law School if not for financial limitations. There was a time when he earned loads and loads of money, but being young as he is (though married already to my Mom and with one child in tow---my older sister) he squandered most of it to gambling and giving his family the best that he could provide. I remember him telling me a story that my sister had one of the first rubix cubes from Japan and talking doll that my sister immediately "dissected". Those were the times when financial woes weren't a burden.
When my younger sister and I were born, that's when my father realized that money have gone down the toilet. Not only that, but a business partner scammed my parents causing our family business to close down. He still tried his best to give us everything that we needed. Three square meals a day and sending us to school. Admittedly, there were times when some of our bills were paid late, sometimes our electricity were disconnected for a day. But we still had roof above our heads, clothes to wear and food to eat.
Growing up, there were times when my sisters and I complained that we didn't have nice clothes to wear for church. Or that we needed new shoes. And when my Dad couldn't give us what we wanted, we would cry and ask ourselves, "why is life so hard on us, our classmate's dad can very well afford whatever their children wanted!" We envied them. There were times when this turned into resentment.
In 2005, I started working and earning money. And that's when I realized that I can get whatever I wanted. What I didn't have when I was growing up is easily within reach. I felt liberated.
But then, thats when I realized that the resentment I had growing up, has multiplied and grown. I sometimes made my Dad feel that he was inadequate as a Father for not being able to provide for us when we were little. I prided myself with the fact that I was earning money and he wasn't.
And now that he's gone, I realize that he provided for his family the best way that he could. The best way that any father could. He may not have loads and loads of cash, he may not own acres and acres of land but he gave us the best thing any Dad has given his children. He gave us time.
When I was 12, I remember I told my Mom and Dad that we had a school presentation and that I was supposed to dance. Not really expecting them to attend because they had to go to work.
In the middle of our dance routine, I saw in the audience, a man holding a camera taking pictures, and it was my Dad! He came! He came to see me dance.
When I started looking for my first job, my Mom and Dad drove us (my older sister and I) to where our interview was. (It was an hour or two drive from home) And they waited for us in the car until the interview finished. Hours and hours have passed and they waited for us patiently. Without any qualms. When I received the first job offer, they were there for me cheering me on.
Years have passed and my dad would always drive my sister and I to the bus stop. Sometimes, he would even drive us all the way to our office. After work, he would fetch me at the same bus stop he dropped us off earlier. This became our daily routine.
When life became too stressful for me at work, my Dad, being a great cook, would prepare my favourite dish. Tofu, breaded shrimp, fried calamares. And even on his last day on earth, he cooked us dinner. Chicken stew. Sadly, he wasn't able to eat it anymore.
My Dad provided the best thing any child could ever need. Quality time! No money in the world could ever buy time.
And now, Its time for me to thank you Dad.
I am so sorry that it took me awhile to realize that all along, you were never wrong, you were never inadequate, that you are the BEST provider any child or family could ever want. I am so proud of you and will wait for the day that our family would be complete again.
I will never say goodbye, just see you later, Dad!
I love you!
April 24, 2010
When they called my name, I quietly stood from my seat. Not knowing what to say. Not knowing where to start.
How can you say goodbye?
When your heart is aching just to steal just one embrace. When you're waiting for someone to wake you up from this horrible dream.
How can you say goodbye? When you cant even say those words, nor do you know the meaning of them.
Like a thief in the night, death came as a shock to our family, when my Dad passed on. It was around 8pm, while watching the evening news. My mom was busy mending my sister's shirt next to me, when my dad entered the room. He was so excited to tell us the story that he got from some of our neighbors. He sat down beside my sister and went on telling us about the "holligans" in our neighborhood who pocketed the funds given by some elected officials. I asked him "how could they do that?" My dad didn't answer my question which was odd, and so I looked at him waiting for a response. Like a flash, I saw my dad, collapse from the chair he was sitting to the foot of my sister's bed facedown.
My mind went blank for a second, and then I realized that I tried to catch his fall without me thinking, but I was a few seconds late. His chest area hit the floor before his head did. I turned him, calling out "Dad! Dad!" Thoughts were racing in my head, not knowing what to do. He was unconscious.
The next that I remembered was my mom, placing a medicine under my dad's tongue. He seemed to struggle or to say something, but no words came out of his mouth. I tried slapping his face, trying to wake him up. I even bit on his big toe as my mom instructed, but nothing. While this was happening, some of our neighbors rushed inside our room and helped us. They picked my dad up, and for some reason, I took my father's wrist, looking for a pulse. And to my relief, I a pulse, though weak, gave me a sense of hope that somehow everything will turn out okay.
That was the last time I saw my father alive.
He didn't even say goodbye.
Nor had we any inclinations that he would go so soon.
Not a clue.
Like a thief in the night, death came and took my Daddy away to the Father's bosom. To be with his Savior.
And now, I stood in front of the people who came to see my Dad one last time---to say goodbye to man that has touched their lives one way or the other.
And here I am, not ready to say goodbye.
When my dad was still alive, we often had some "misunderstandings". Please bear in mind however, that I came from a family that were highly intellectual. So clashing of the minds was frequent in our household. During dinner, we would have discussions on World History. When a game show was on, and the question needed brain power, my family would rev up to who can answer it first. My dad was a great debater. He majored in Political Science in College and would have gone to Law School if not for financial limitations. There was a time when he earned loads and loads of money, but being young as he is (though married already to my Mom and with one child in tow---my older sister) he squandered most of it to gambling and giving his family the best that he could provide. I remember him telling me a story that my sister had one of the first rubix cubes from Japan and talking doll that my sister immediately "dissected". Those were the times when financial woes weren't a burden.
When my younger sister and I were born, that's when my father realized that money have gone down the toilet. Not only that, but a business partner scammed my parents causing our family business to close down. He still tried his best to give us everything that we needed. Three square meals a day and sending us to school. Admittedly, there were times when some of our bills were paid late, sometimes our electricity were disconnected for a day. But we still had roof above our heads, clothes to wear and food to eat.
Growing up, there were times when my sisters and I complained that we didn't have nice clothes to wear for church. Or that we needed new shoes. And when my Dad couldn't give us what we wanted, we would cry and ask ourselves, "why is life so hard on us, our classmate's dad can very well afford whatever their children wanted!" We envied them. There were times when this turned into resentment.
In 2005, I started working and earning money. And that's when I realized that I can get whatever I wanted. What I didn't have when I was growing up is easily within reach. I felt liberated.
But then, thats when I realized that the resentment I had growing up, has multiplied and grown. I sometimes made my Dad feel that he was inadequate as a Father for not being able to provide for us when we were little. I prided myself with the fact that I was earning money and he wasn't.
And now that he's gone, I realize that he provided for his family the best way that he could. The best way that any father could. He may not have loads and loads of cash, he may not own acres and acres of land but he gave us the best thing any Dad has given his children. He gave us time.
When I was 12, I remember I told my Mom and Dad that we had a school presentation and that I was supposed to dance. Not really expecting them to attend because they had to go to work.
In the middle of our dance routine, I saw in the audience, a man holding a camera taking pictures, and it was my Dad! He came! He came to see me dance.
When I started looking for my first job, my Mom and Dad drove us (my older sister and I) to where our interview was. (It was an hour or two drive from home) And they waited for us in the car until the interview finished. Hours and hours have passed and they waited for us patiently. Without any qualms. When I received the first job offer, they were there for me cheering me on.
Years have passed and my dad would always drive my sister and I to the bus stop. Sometimes, he would even drive us all the way to our office. After work, he would fetch me at the same bus stop he dropped us off earlier. This became our daily routine.
When life became too stressful for me at work, my Dad, being a great cook, would prepare my favourite dish. Tofu, breaded shrimp, fried calamares. And even on his last day on earth, he cooked us dinner. Chicken stew. Sadly, he wasn't able to eat it anymore.
My Dad provided the best thing any child could ever need. Quality time! No money in the world could ever buy time.
And now, Its time for me to thank you Dad.
I am so sorry that it took me awhile to realize that all along, you were never wrong, you were never inadequate, that you are the BEST provider any child or family could ever want. I am so proud of you and will wait for the day that our family would be complete again.
I will never say goodbye, just see you later, Dad!
I love you!
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Monday's child
Labels.
Ugh...
Even before we were born, our parents have been searching for THE perfect name. Our name.
Well, the good thing about naming babies, is that it somehow gives us a sense of dignity. That as individuals, we have the capacity to be whoever we want to be. (As a child, we used to hear the story about Adam and Eve, right after they were created, God named them immediately. And, if my memory serves me correctly, God also designated Adam to name the animals)
But, as Shakespeare's Juliet would ask, "what's in a name, it is neither hand, nor foot, nor anything that belongs to a man..."
On a flipside, names can also be misconstrued. More often than not, it becomes a label that defines us. Limiting us. Take for instance, a nursery rhyme that defines you by the day you were born...
"Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go.
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
But the child born on the Sabbath Day,
Is fair and wise and good in every way."
Good thing I was born on a monday, phew! Just imagine wednesday's challenging life. And if this nursery rhyme was true, then I must be fair of face. But I am more than a fair face, what if I was also fair and wise and good in every way? There is more to me than my label. More to me than my name.
P.S.
When school started, and the teacher would do a roll call, I immediately knew it when the teacher was about to call my name. The first tell tale sign was their frown. Followed by head scratching, and a futile attempt to utter the first syllable of my name. Feeling as though my name was a tongue twister. This gave me a sense of pride. That I am unique because of my unique name.
2010-Out of boredom, I googled my unique name to see if there was anyone out in the universe who beared the same name as I do, not really expecting any results.
To my consternation, not only did the search show me that my name wasn't unique after all, I also learned that most of the people bearing MY NAME were male!?! I felt kinda betrayed, like I was living a lie. When I came to my senses, I realized that my name is just a label. And that's all there is to it.
Ugh...
Even before we were born, our parents have been searching for THE perfect name. Our name.
Well, the good thing about naming babies, is that it somehow gives us a sense of dignity. That as individuals, we have the capacity to be whoever we want to be. (As a child, we used to hear the story about Adam and Eve, right after they were created, God named them immediately. And, if my memory serves me correctly, God also designated Adam to name the animals)
On a flipside, names can also be misconstrued. More often than not, it becomes a label that defines us. Limiting us. Take for instance, a nursery rhyme that defines you by the day you were born...
"Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go.
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
But the child born on the Sabbath Day,
Is fair and wise and good in every way."
Good thing I was born on a monday, phew! Just imagine wednesday's challenging life. And if this nursery rhyme was true, then I must be fair of face. But I am more than a fair face, what if I was also fair and wise and good in every way? There is more to me than my label. More to me than my name.
P.S.
When school started, and the teacher would do a roll call, I immediately knew it when the teacher was about to call my name. The first tell tale sign was their frown. Followed by head scratching, and a futile attempt to utter the first syllable of my name. Feeling as though my name was a tongue twister. This gave me a sense of pride. That I am unique because of my unique name.
2010-Out of boredom, I googled my unique name to see if there was anyone out in the universe who beared the same name as I do, not really expecting any results.
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