Last weekend was the most laughter-filled vacation I’ve had in a long time. I cooped up with my parents and three sisters at Ben’s house for three nights in Roxas City. As in sidesplitting laughing like there was no care for tomorrow. Joking about inheritance, weight gain, and the ever-ubiquitous beauty competition among the sisters. Such is our bonding—pure, unabashed, hilarious, and most of all, affectionate.
When we were small children, we were just like friends. Our age gap was only a year, so we were practically like quadruplets. We studied in one school from kindergarten to high school. We slept in one room. We attended parties together. We served in the church together. Our clothes were mostly considered communal, and yes, we shared toiletries and even (gasp!) undies. Everything was divided into five (our baby brother, included).
Papa's angels
Looking back, we realize that we didn’t have much, but we never complained nor wanted more than what were shared. For us the most important thing was that we were happy together as a family. And we know no matter where we are, no matter how many pounds we gain (and hopefully lose!), what we had was the tightest bond no distance nor time could break.
‘Nuff of the drama. Let’s get back to our Roxas sojourn. So we met last weekend at my sister Ben’s in the “Land of the Best Seafoods in the Philippines”. I arrived there via Bacolod-Iloilo on Saturday after an almost two-and-a-half-hour drive. My second sister, My, was already there from Manila, who arrived in the morning via Roxas airport. Time went by fast as we tried to catch up stories on our mundane lives. We sang “Dios De Salve” in the car as we drove to pick up Ben’s daughter. It was a procession song we sang when we were teenagers in Las Pinas, chanting for Ben’s slow (ok, cautious!) driving. Come dinner, we only had salad with grilled chicken, because we were anticipating to pig out the next day with caloric-filled seafoods when the other “contingents” arrive.
A couple of hours after dinner, we got ‘serious’, and danced zumba in Ben’s room—in full pantied glory! Hahaha!! Our fats were jiggling here and there, we were giggling like little giddy girls, as we danced the hour away. As expected, we were so exhausted after, that we were able to sleep soundly.
The next day, we prepared for the big feast ahead of us. Ben was assigned in making the maki. I volunteered to cook gambas. One of Ben’s friends offered to cook a delightful recipe of crabs in gata. Ben’s helper cooked the sinigang na pompano. And My? Hmmm…I don’t remember her doing anything! Hehehe!
Papa, Mama, Midette, and our neighbor in Las Pinas, Tita Lydia arrived from Iloilo with Neil (Ben’s Papa Hunk!). After tight huggies and kisses, we were ready to dig in those delectable seafood dishes.
After eating lunch, where else did we go straight but--to bed! Haha. No wonder?? But honestly, the Manila contingents were dead tired because they went to the airport at 1:30 a.m., took off at 4:00, then travelled from Iloilo to Roxas for 2 hours. So they had to recharge. But before taking a siesta, some bed photos please.
Maria Benilda
Maria Belinda
Maria Bernadette
Maria Benilyn
Ang sipsip!
At 5:00 p.m., Neil and Ben brought us to San Antonio Resort for some boating activities. Unfortunately, the lagoon was too shallow at that time, so we were not allowed to ride the boat. But they couldn't stop us from taking some pictures, right?
Sa bigat nila, di kaya sila lumubog?
Sayang, the lagoon was so inviting!
Pati sagwan, hindi pinatawad!
But they don't look like they were rejected from boating, right?
So we settled to do some jump shots instead..para naman hindi kami umuwing luhaan. And what a laugh it was!!!!
After tiring ourselves of laughing and jumping and making a fool of ourselves, it was time to go to church together. We went to the Cathedral of Roxas City. As etched on its entrance, the church was built in 1954.
We were late, so we had to hear mass from outside. The Church was brimming with people.
Midette, stop taking pictures na!
The four of us slept in the living room and yakked until 4 a.m. Mama O even joined us at about 3. The next day, Papa asked us if we never ran out of stories to tell. We said there’s always something to talk about—the precociousness of our kids, the quirks of our hubbies (and shh, the bedroom stories that go with them), homemaking tips (and our lack of it), even ghost stories of our past and present. When the four of us meet, time seems to zoom past us—it isn’t always enough.
We overslept the next day, as expected. The plan was to have lunch at Coco Veranda Restaurant. So we just lazed around the house doing, what else..telling more stories!
Then, it was time to go to out for lunch.
After stuffing ourselves with more seafoods (What? Roxas is not the Seafood Capital for nothing!), the wicked sisters decided to go shopping for pasalubong at Gaisano.
The host buying more food for tonight's dinner. Kailan ba sila aalis? Hehehe
Pati yan, gustong mong bumili sa Roxas?
We bought tubs of ice cream for Ben! That's why we were smiling here!
Dinner at the house. The sisters had to chip in to cook. Midette and I cooked the kare-kare; My did the tahong soup, and Ben? She rested because she got a stomachache from too much stress, er, maybe from the talaba she ate at lunch.
First time that the sisters gathered in the kitchen? Kaya masaya si Mama O!
We had a lot of crazy activities planned for the night—like raiding though Shangy’s cosplay costumes and wearing them, or posing for pics in our old high school uniforms, or dancing zumba again. I even brought facial masks for some beauty spa downtime.
Cosplay wig-aloo. Bagay 'to sana sa akin, kaso sasayad lang sa lupa!
But none of them pushed through because of Ben's tummy ache (excuses! excuses!). Besides, I still had to take off at 3 a.m. the next morning to be in time for the 6 a.m. trip from Iloilo to Bacolod. So we all retired quite earlier than was expected.
The three-day vacation was tiring and stressful, all right. And we must admit it's always a little bit expensive to reunite the whole family again. But was everything worth it?
They say big gifts come in small packages. True. But there is always an exception. And one of those is the gift of Anesa. Let me say a short prayer for my dear friend, balae in our dreams, Mama Nes.
Dear Lord...
Thank you for the gift of Anesa in my life. She has passed by once in my youth bringing laughter to my once shallow and ignorant mind. And after 25 years, You allowed our paths to cross again. This time, strengthened by life's ups and downs, and how she has changed. The Anesa that I have laughed with before has been turned into a pillar--strong, determined, and sure of life. She became a loving mother, a dear and loyal friend, and a beautiful person inside and out. May she untiringly be the beacon that always shines. Always give her the strength she needs to battle the wars in her life. Send her the right person to share her life with. Bless her with more years of happiness, and no more days of tears.
Make her my friend till the day we depart from this world. Amen.
The other night, I had a very perplexing dream. Or nightmare. Or could someone please tell me what it was?
I slept past 2:00 a.m. I couldn't sleep earlier because I had a light nap before dinner. After a few minutes of finally being able to doze off, I remembered dreaming I was in a hospital full of people wanting to have plastic surgery. Then suddenly I was in my bedroom, so I thought that I woke up. I was lying on the bed, I could see Carlo's bed beside mine, the desks, the shelves, so this couldn't be a dream anymore, I thought. Then I saw a man wearing a white cotton shirt (and was he wearing a jacket?) and faded jeans walk up to me, his hands extended. I reached out for his hands and clasped both of them, and tried to fight him away from me. I swear I felt the man's rough palms for real. He wasn't that strong, because I was able to wrestle him. I didn't want to look at his face, afraid of what he might have looked like. I tried to scream, but no sound came out of my mouth. I tried to move my feet, and put them on the floor, but they were paralyzed. My hands were the only ones strong enough to ward off my attacker. I closed my eyes and I was shouting at him in my mind, "Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!"
Then I remembered my departed Lola telling me when I was a child to pray the Apostle's Creed every time I feel there was something strange around me. I started my litany of "I believe in God...", but I seemed to keep forgetting the words. When I finally was able to get past the 3 Hail Mary's, everything felt blank, and I felt asleep. I was woken up by the power outage, which I just brushed off.
I wasn't actually afraid or anything. I wasn't sure if it had been real or just a dream then, but I wasn't trembling or cowering in fear. Whatever it was, I knew everything was over. Then I prayed the rosary until I fell asleep.
Please, Jesus, don't let him come near me again.
10commandments4kids.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There was a prequel to this story that I think was somewhat connected to my frightening dream.
Friday last week, a group of five old people approached me after I just parked my car at our garage. They said they lived in the village, and they were asking if I was interested to open up my doors to them for a night of prayer to Mama Mary. One of them introduced herself as Rosario (how coincidental!), and said she was an emissary to spread our Lady's messages. She claimed she could see visions of Mama Mary and receive messages from her. I wasn't that skeptical nor wasn't that too believing. But I said yes to them, just the same. Maybe because I somehow miss the prayerful social activities I had when I was young at my childhood home in 2nd Reyville, Las Pinas. Or maybe because I miss praying the rosary with my family every night (we used to do that when we were still living together). So we set the schedule on Wednesday, February 1, at 6:00 p.m., thinking that it was also the birthday of the Youngest, so I might as well pray for him.
And then the nightmare came last Tuesday, a day before they were supposed to pray here at the house. I was thinking, was it a warning to me from the dark side? It was the first time that a dream like that so lifelike happened to me. Yes, when I was younger, I used to have bouts of nightmares when I was sick. But it was only now that a scary attack happened in my adult life.
So Wednesday came. Before we prayed, I recounted to them my experience the night before. Tita Rosario said it was real, it was not a dream, and it was the D who didn't want their group to be accepted in our household. She offered to bring a priest on Saturday to bless the house.
While we were praying, I felt very peaceful. I cried a little bit while singing 'Come Holy Spirit' (I don't know why I always cry to that song!). We prayed the rosary, prayed the Divine Mercy Prayer, read from the messages of Mama Mary to Fatima, listened to Mama Mary's taped messages through Tita Rosario, and had the light snack I prepared for them. We started at 6:00 and ended up at 8:30. We wouldn' t have finished, if not for one my visitors, a 90-year-old man, who had to go. The group invited me for a Cenacle meeting on Friday, and I said yes.
I couldn't say no to Mama Mary's invitation, could I?
Here is an artist's rendition of how Tita Rosario's vision of Mama Mary looks like. (I took a photo of the framed picture they were carrying)
He will kill me for calling me that here. Okay, maybe he'll just not talk to me for days. (I'm not worried, he refuses to make a Facebook account anyway!) But there used to be a time when he signed his name on birthday cards for me as that, Carly. Now that he is 15, he cringes every time I call him that. But what the heck, he will always be a Carly in my heart.
He is still the most prayerful
from my bunch.
He has turned into a man too fast, I think. I know it is his way of coping with the dorm life and being separated from the comforts of our home since he was 13. Now he is called Luis by his friends. He doesn't want to be pampered now. He doesn't want too much attention from us. He doesn't ask or demand petty things from us. I just hope that he doesn't grow too independent from us too soon. At his age of 15, the mother in me still doesn't want to let go of the baby in him.
For he had been my baby the longest, among my three kids. I remember he couldn't sleep until I lay down beside him, massaged his back, and slept with him face-to-face. In response, he also used to massage my back until his drowsy eyes couldn't hold it any longer. I asked him one day, maybe when he was 8 or 9, if he would let me sleep beside him until he became a teenager, and he lovingly said, of course, Mom.
Aah, such fleeting memories for him, but lasting ones for an old mother like me.
Happy birthday, Luis Carlo. Please let me call you Carly forever?
