Letters to Marge (Chapter 13): California Pointless...

Dear Margaret...

As i write this, the three of us have survived several blocks of San Francisco just a couple of weeks ago together. I remember my arms trembling from the weight of carrying you, a Sanfo-themed snowglobe, and this big-ass TV disguised as a laptop on my back, which i am using right this very minute.

You were tired, too. In fact, you were so tired that you fell asleep in my arms, while we were walking. It was a good feeling, by the way. But that’s not why i’m writing here now.

I’m writing to thank you.

A couple or so years from now, you should start remembering events in your life. You might actually start remembering the exact color of purple that Barney is. You might start remembering things and places you’ve been. So when you really get down to it, it was possibly pointless for you to be here in California with us right now at merely a year and a half old.

Possibly...

Possibly pointless, because you won’t remember your mother squinting her eyes at the sight of the Golden Gate through the thick fog on the cruise boat. Possibly pointless that you won't remember seeing Alcatraz across the waters and how you will compare it with marriage later on in life... Possibly pointless, because you won’t remember the beautiful sunset that we watched in Monterey... possibly...

But no. It wasn’t pointless. Not in the least.

It wasn’t pointless, because it was worth carrying you several blocks around San Francisco just to hear you giggle at the littlest things. It wasn’t pointless, because having you around meant that anywhere we went will never be boring. It wasn’t pointless, because i loved watching you waving at me through the rearview mirror everytime, no matter how boring the freeway got...

So yes. Thank you, Margaret.

And hopefully, by the time you read this, you will at least remember that at a year and a half, you will remember that we kept you laughing and smiling halfway across the world. And you probably won’t thank us, but will probably ask us to bring you back here again.

We will.

Love,

Dad

Letters to Marge (Chapter 12): How the earth bleeds from a broken faucet

Dear Marge,

Sometime in my early life, i saw grain farmers at the roadside on my usual trips to Baguio City. It struck me how they painstakingly hoe palay in their places on the road shoulder for drying in the sun. This was followed by thoughts of how they must watch over every errant grain around the area, to sweep every one of them back into the pile to ultimately help in the overall volume of grain they will ultimately deliver...



So it was that epiphany that made me think more than twice about not cleaning out every grain of rice on my plate (or Styrofoam lunch box) at my every meal.


Fast forward to last Tuesday, when we finally returned to our weekly visits to Baclaran...

I went to use the bathroom and saw faucets that just kept flowing, and no one was there using them. There have been almost a dozen people who have come and gone since i’d been in there. None of them bothered to turn the faucet off. I learned upon trying that the faucets were damaged, but not impossible to close. So i did...


Then off inside the church we went...

Of course, farmers do not take teaspoon after teaspoon of fresh water into a pail like they do rice. But two typhoons in, and several weeks of calamity later, it riles me that people do not take a few seconds to just try and turn off a damaged faucet and conserve something people elsewhere lie helplessly in wait for.


No one bothered, no one cared.

But you, I want you to bother. I want you to notice these things. These little things that are somehow always connected to bigger things. i want you to care.


One day, i want to find an opportunity to take you to watch people hoeing grain into place, or to look at how some people go through great lengths to get themselves a pail of fresh water. I want you to learn how to feel bad for every tree felled unnecessarily. I want you to stand near a highway and look at the trail of smoke left behind by an uncaring bus and wonder how long the skies will remain blue, if they would still be by that time.



I want your eyes and ears to see and know how the only planet, the only home we ever knew and ever will within our lifetimes, chokes at every sputter of smoke from a bus, quietly screams with every forest mowed down for a shopping mall, and ever so slowly bleeds with every faucet left on and unused.

I want you to care.

You alone won’t make a difference. But sometimes caring can be contagious, so let’s hope we infect other people.


‘catch you later, girl...

Love,

Dad

Letters to Marge: Chapter 11 (Let's Break for a Cute Video...)

The Attack of Bratzilla and the Green Crayola

Dear Marge,

Something happened a few nights ago that had a lot of my favourite things in it: you (not that you’re a “thing”), art (or attempts at it), the color green, and crayolas.

There’s little to be said save for my pure unadulterated pleasure in seeing you running all around the room with a notebook in one hand, and one green crayola in the other. The next part of the pleasure included watching your mother follow you around with a moist sponge and trying to take out traces of your crayola invasion off the walls, the bed sheets, and the floor.

I say, go for it!

Love,

Dad

P.S. more nagging advice later, kid...

Letters to Marge (Chapter 10): I'm Sorry, Marge...

Dearest Margaret...

Dad has been quite tired lately. For better or worse, there are way too many places i have to be, too many people I have to see, and too many things people think I can and have to do. And there’s only one of me.

If there could be more of me, the me that writes this would be with you.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry to you and mom. I’m sorry that i let so many other people take my time. Time that is yours to have, time that is supposed to be ours to share. Time i instead gave to others who gave themselves to those who would be our supposed gods in cities infested with creatures with more faces than any truth would allow.

Time i gave to keep building a house of cards i reinforce with little more than dreams that i keep dreaming, and a passion that refuses to stop burning bright despite the storms that pour upon me. One day, this house of cards will finally be a house where the walls can be touched, and the floors can be danced upon. Please be patient and be there when this one day arrives. This is for you.

This is all for you.

And though I may not always be there to hold you, always know that I love you very much.

Love,

Dad

Letters to Marge (Chapter 9): Always Know Who You Are...

Dearest Margaret…

Haven’t written much lately, have I?

Well, thing is, the whole zigzagging between Manila and Baguio doesn’t exactly leave your old man too much room for thoughtful blogging. What’s more, at this time that I am writing this, you are already a year and two months old. Quite responsive, and a lot of fun to be with. And I can almost imagine you digging whatever I say...

"...today... one truly great lady finally left a country that never stopped needing her..."

But today (August 1, 2009) is a rather special day.

Today, two very dear friends from different circles in my life celebrate their birthdays (those would be Uncles Jon and Carlo), and one truly great lady finally left a country that never stopped needing her.

At this point, I’m guessing part of your research on Philippine history includes former President Corazon Cojuangco Aquino. Dad’s advice is for you to really dig into it. The presidency of Cory (as she is referred to in our time) was by no means a prosperous time, and definitely wasn’t all six years of sunshine. But while each presidential term in this eternally struggling country of ours has been followed by shadows they themselves created long after their terms have ended, only Cory Aquino has remained untainted, unaffected, unchanged. Having stood for what she believed from the day the public knew who she was, right down to the very last moment her voice was heard, Cory was a singular icon. Free of pretense, Cory was singular in her stature, singular in her beliefs, and singular in her purpose of upholding those beliefs.

What made Cory so iconic, so much larger than life, was that the Cory Aquino the People Power Revolution strapped into that chair in Malacañang was still the Cory Aquino we were watching praying on national TV just a year ago. More wrinkles, perhaps, but still the same smile, the same determination, the same battle cries, even the same shade of yellow on her dress.

People knew what to expect of Cory Aquino, knew what she stood for, and she never changed that. It's not unlike how a McDonald's cheeseburger pretty much tastes the same even after all these years.

"...At some point, you must decide that you have had enough major input, and can start building the foundation that will become... 'you'..."

With that in mind, here’s something I need you to know and live by.

As life goes on, many people, many events, and many things will come across or around the road before you that you will come to call your life. Each and every one of those things will try and change you. Especially the people... and that’s where the challenge lies.

At some point, you must decide that you have had enough major input, and can start building the foundation that will become the “you” that you will live with for the better part of your life, the “you” that you will ultimately decide has something good, something unique and something beautiful to offer the people around you. The “you” that wish to be remembered as.

"... [many people] face a mirror and do not know who they’re looking at..."

The greatest tragedy many people face is that point in their lives when they face a mirror and do not know who they’re looking at. The funny thing is, when we look inwards and upon ourselves, we tend to get blinded by visions of what we believe we could be, could still be, or should be. But remember you this... A person is like a diamond, with many facets, all of which are truly yours, but it is that one facet that you will ultimately choose to be the face you will show that will help you define the direction you will take in your life.

You will know when the time is right, you will know when you’ve seen and heard enough to know what you want the rest of your life to be like. I don’t know when that is or will be. But when the moment is there, grab it. Grab your identity for all its faults, or its potential greatness. But most importantly, accept what you are, what you’ve become, be better, be greater, but always be yourself.

“Let the fish not envy the birds that soar across the skies and against the sun, for they will never know the wondrous world of the deep seas.”

‘catch you later, girl...

Love,

Dad


P.S. Congratulations, Marge... Last month, you started walking on your own! Well, just a few feet at first, but yeah...
P.P.S. i have more to say about this topic, but I'll stop herefor now...

Letters to Marge: Happy First Birthday!

Kid...

This is just a preview...

Letters to Marge (Chapter 8): Try Something New...

My dear Margaret…

Last weekend, I (along with your uncles) did something new and potentially stupid..

WE. WENT. SURFING.

Yeah, I can hear the chuckles now… heck, it was funny even for us, imagining what we may have looked like. The scene looked like something that normally precursored the slapstick highlight of a TV sitcom. It was quite the sight: three pale, short, plump, and slightly clumsy Chinese guys walking across the beach while being led around by three lean, bronzed surf bums each holding surfboards. Obviously with the power to make aforementioned Chinese dudes look either totally cool, or totally foolish.

The following are the things I “learned”…

1. Looking stupid with a surfboard was pretty normal in those parts. To quote Michael Jackson, “we [were] NOT alone…”
2. Surfing, or attempting it, is fun.
3. The toughest part about surfing is wading against the strong waves to a workable (“surfable”) distance from the shore.
4. The actual act of “surfing” is only a few seconds worth. But damn, it feels great to let the waves carry you…
5. In reference to item number 2 above, attempting ANYTHING new is always fun long as it doesn’t involve jumping off a plane or window, or wild animals…
6. Keep item number 5 in mind all the time.

Stay safe, kiddo… but try something odd from time to time…

Catch you later…

Love,

Dad