[For VS]

I was looking out this window as you were preparing our lunch, roughly 2 years ago. You told me, sit down, I can manage. Then you brought out a pot filled with sinigang na bangus. You cooked this? I asked in surprise, and you said of course I did. But I never thought that you could cook. You answered, in your usual unassuming demeanour, there was little need for me to cook when your Ima was still alive. It never crossed my mind that you could cook, and that you could make sinigang that tasted as good as home....

[To VS, who passed on last December 28. Take care forever.]

Be Cheerful, Strive To Be Happy (In Memory Of A Father)

Photo from vgsamson.multiply.com

[Note: I have never known my father, who passed away last April 26, to be the literary sort of guy. Which is why I will never forget the time when he quoted the Desiderata when my sister and I were once bickering inside the car so many years ago when we were still kids. I thought - wow, Dad is actually quoting Desiderata?! Correctly at that! Now I guess I can best sum up how I would like to remember my father by reprinting The Desiderata. I know, this is so trite, our relationship was far from perfect, and I wasn't exactly the nicest child that a father, and even a mother, can have, but I miss him, as early as now, just as I miss my mother.]

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann, Desiderata

Father's Day, Four Years Ago

I am reprinting this post that I made at my Multiply site in memory of my father, who passed away last April 26, 2011. You can find the original article by following this link.

This was written when I was in Hong Kong, doing my post-residency training. I kind of feel a tad guilty that I have not written about my father so much.

I wish for him to be happy, wherever he is now.

HAVE YOU GREETED YOUR FATHER LATELY?
from vgsamson.multiply.com, photo from the same site
(June 17, 2007)

I just did, through SMS. Sending him e-mail from my part of the world would not be feasible, since he never uses the computer, much less surf the internet.

And what did he say in return? His response was very typical of him, being a man of a few words: Tnx.

At 66, my father is not as young as he wishes to think he is. (In the orthopaedic world, however, 66 is still young. Trust me.) It’s all in that face of his. In spite of the fact that he had a stroke 8 years ago, his demeanor, save for minor wrinkles and alternating white hair, remains as youthful as ever. The world turns at a rapid pace, but the world that he knows takes it easy, and for him it seems that the only reminder that time goes by is the tome of photographs of people, living and dead, who surrounded him at any given point in his life. Nothing wrong with that: people do tend to be nostalgic (he always does) especially when there is a lot to recount in the past.

I just wish that he’d stop smoking like a fiend….

It is Father’s Day today, and next month it’s going to be his birthday. For geographic reasons I will not be able to visit him this year. I now owe him some visits. Should pay him one as soon as I get home.

I Know Of At Least Three Painless Ways To Go ... [Yes, Read On]

... but why should I tell you?

Two of them are kind of tricky to accomplish. You will need easy access to medications.

The other way was taught to me by someone who attempted to go this way ... but failed.

This method is supposedly fool-proof. A small amount of this flavourless and odorless chemical mixed with your favorite drink is enough to make you dizzy on the spot. Some end up sleeping until they ultimately go. Others throw up but that is just about it. Exiting the world cannot be easier and more painless.

For that particular person who told me about this, however, it did not exactly work that way. Obviously so.

As soon as he drank his soda admixed with the killer agent, his mind started blurring. He still had time, however, to send some sms messages to friends. But no, he did not mention anything about his deed to anyone that time.

No one had an inkling then that he had just committed suicide.

Shortly after, he vomitted profusely. he still had the energy to go to the bathroom to puke. He then returned to his bed, feeling very sleepy.

He told me that he had dreams, but nothing scary, nothing nightmarish. I could not exactly remember what he told me.

The limbo-ish state seemed to have lasted forever until ...

... finally, he opened his eyes. He was famished.

He tarried for a while, wondering if he was for real.

He walked towards the door of his house and opened it. Hear his feet lay newspapers. He picked them up. The oldest issue was 3 days old.

He thought: I was asleep for 3 days?

Next thought: Am I really this much of a loser? I actually botched a suicide attempt!

Then another thought: What is the meaning of this?

Perhaps, it seems, this has become one of his purposes in life: to live to tell his tale.

And the whole point of this post is to stress this out: given even the most potent way to kill oneself, a few people simply survive.

Do you ever wonder why suicide attempts materialize for some people and fail for others?

Do you ever sometimes think that, when you are meant to live, while a purpose remains unfulfilled, no bullet can bring you down, and no poison can take your life away?

And when you are meant to go, no amount of hiding nor protection can shield you from the sickle?

Just some mind-boggling thoughts. Have a good day.

Another Goodbye

I dare not mention the name of a dear friend who passed away a week ago.

She was so low-profile, one who did not want to draw attention to herself. So, no, I will not write her full name nor the circumstances surrounding her death. I will just write that she moved me with her willpower and her strength of character, and I will always remember her for that.

I also remember that she had one of the most beautiful voices that I have ever heard.

She taught our ragtag choir how to sing Handel's "Canticorum Jubilo" and Felipe De Leon's "Payapang Daigdig", both of which we performed during an inter-organization carolfest in the university many moons ago.

We won.

Since then, I have always associated her with both songs. Funny that it seems apt to play both songs once again, now that she has left the physical world.

Most especially, I will never forget that, even when I did not expect her to be around in my times of distress, she was simply, around

[Five people who are dear to me passed away within five years. I do not how I still manage to exist. Love and letting go seem like neighbours uncomfortable with each other's presence. Again, the delicate balance of joy and sorrow....]

Take care, wherever you are. You are thought of with extreme fondness and love forever.

Canticorum Jubilo



Payapang Daigdig

B6M689D6TZ8U

Paalam, Daddy Malcolm

[Mga paunang salita: Si Daddy Malcolm ay si Ernesto Basa Dimalanta, ama ng dalawa sa mga kaibigan ko sa eksena. Siya ay sumakabilang buhay noong Biyernes ng gabi sa edad na 83. Malaki ang papel na ginampanan ni Daddy Malcolm noong panahong sumisibol pa lamang ang Pinoy Punk, at malamang kilala siya ng halos lahat ng tagasubaybay ng eksenang Punk sa Pilipinas.]

Sinasabing ang kamatayan ay isang pagkakataon upang ipagdiwang ang buhay. Mas madaling sabihin ito kaysa unawain. Habang tumatanda ang tao ay dumarami ang nakikita niyang kamatayan. Kung magkaminsan ay nagiging bunsod ito upang kanyang isipin: Ganito nga ba kabilis at kapanandalian ang buhay sa mundo?

Numero (para sa alaala ni Daddy Malcolm)

Ang tao nga ba ay isa lamang numero?
Kahalintulad ng mga tala sa pisngi ng kalangitan.
May mga bituin na nabinyagan ng maririkit na pangalan,
mga bituing magaganda sa ating paningin...
Subalit mas marami pa sigurong mas magagandang tala
na kailanman ay hindi magiging abot-tanaw,
sa ating kamalayan, isa lamang silang
numero.

Ano ba ang kahulugan ng kamatayan ng isang nilalang
sa kabuuan ng sangkatauhan?
Napakaraming tao sa sandaigdigan para maunawaan ko silang lahat
at angkining bahagi ng buhay ko.
Ano nga ba ang bahagi mo sa buhay ko,
Manong magsasaka sa hilagang Tsina,
Mamang mananayaw sa Nuweba York,
Manang misyonaryo sa puso ng Aprika,
Aleng kumakain ng keso sa Kanlurang Pransiya....
Ano ang saysay ninyong lahat sa buhay ko?

Kung sasabihin ko, "Wala,
Hindi ko kayo nakikilala,
hindi ko alam ang buhay nyo, pati na ang
pangalan nyo",
Marahil nga, marahil nga,
Ang bawat isa sa atin ay isang numero.
May takdang panahon ng kapanganakan,
May takdang panahon ng kamatayan.

Subalit...

Ayokong maniwalang ang mga taong mahal ko ay
mga numero lamang.
Para sa akin,
higit pa sila sa mga naggagandahang bituin na
bininyagan ng mga siyentipiko.
Para sa mga taong mahal ko,
Aangkinin ko, pati ang pagkakilanlan ng mga taong
kailanman
ay hindi ko makikilala,
huwag lamang silang tawaging
isang numero lamang.

(Hindi po ako manunula, pero naisip ko lang isulat ito. Inspirasyon ng tatlong tasang kape.)

[Katuwang na poste sa Trash Radio Manila.]

To Heaven, And Back, To Hell, And Back...

With more than 50% of my lifetime spent (granting that I will die before the age of 60, the average life expectancy of the women of our family), I can say that I have by far traveled well enough. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually.

I have been to heaven ...


... to hell ...


... to heaven ...


... to hell ...


... to heaven ...


... to hell ...


... to heaven ...


... to hell ...


... to heaven ...


... to hell ...


... guess where I am right now ... ?


No clever words this time, just images, and more images...

[Photo of flatline from this site, original photo of telephone booth from this site]