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November 18, 2008

IN MEMORY OF ANGELA

Filed under: Family, Migrant's Journey — thewritersguild @ 3:19 pm

Her name is Angela.  A happy and energetic girl at six. People call her “Angel” because of her solemn face with rosy cheeks that make her seem a heaven-sent.  She’s the ideal baby of every couple; an obedient child.  She goes running to Lola after her class at the preparatory school to hear her favorite fairy tales. Her parents left her with her Lola when they work abroad, in preparation for her future.

Years went by, the little cute darling turned into a gorgeous, conservative lady.  She had so many admirers.  With the financial support from her parents, she goes to college at a private school in the city, kilometers away from her Lola.   She rents an apartment to minimize her commuting.  Lack of money was never a problem.  Her friends tell her she’s very fortunate for having parents like hers.  They can give all she wanted.  Yes it is true, she can have all her wishes but there’s something she can’t achieve despite the luxury.  She misses something.  And this is what she hides from her friends. They never knew, she wasn’t really that fortunate.  She rarely saw her parents.  The last time with them was when she was still in high school.  They weren’t present in her graduation from primary and secondary school, wherein she received high honors.  She wasn’t given importance.  This is Angela’s thought whenever she’s alone.  She really longs for her parents’ care and love.  It’s good that she has her loving Lola, who took her parents’ place, acted as her mother and father since childhood.  No doubt she love her Lola so much.  And even in the smallest difficulty she has, her Lola is always there to guide and tell her what to do.

One day, her friends were so worried with the many absences she incurred. Three days stretched to more than a week away from class.  They paid her a visit at her Lola’s place but didn’t find Angela there.  According to her Lola, she left on Sunday but failed to come back home for the week-end to get her allowance.  Lola was terribly worried.  Soon, they decided to look for Angela.

They searched the places that she possibly could have gone to but they found no Angela.  Afternoon, Lola’s losing heart. But there’s one more thing she’s afraid of — Angela’s parents.  What will they do upon knowing that Angela is missing? Ah! she doesn’t really know what to do anymore.  After sometime, a knock on the door startled her.  Instantly, she thought it was Angela. She rushed to the door and opened it immediately.  Her excitement turned into disappointment after seeing the postman, who handed her a letter.  It was from Angela’s parents.  She opened it quickly.  The old woman grew more tense.  This is what she’s been afraid of.  Angela’s parents are coming home for a vacation.  She cried out Angela’s name.  She looked up and uttered a prayer.  Yes, she can’t do anything more but pray.  Lola looked pitiful, seated at  the window, hoping that Angela would come home.

As she was expecting, Angela emerged from the door.  She was taken by surprise.  She doesn’t know what to say, whom to thank but she found herself hugging her granddaughter.  Angela cried.  “Apo…” Lola began, “what is it?  What happened?  Why?”  This time, Angela cried more deafeningly. Her Lola caress her back trying to calm her. After sometime, Angela stopped crying.  Her Lola gave her a glass of water to calm her.  Lola looked at Angela.  She noticed that Angela’s face is etched with pain.  She’s so pale, her face a picture of no hope, her shoulders down and seems to be out her mind.  Her Lola asked Angela again.  And finally, Angela began to relate what happened, “L-Lola, they tried to… to kill me… but I promised them not to report to the authorities… so, they set me free… and alive.”  Her Lola’s confused with Angela’s story.  She asked more questions and Angela made it clearer.  The old woman wanted to report to the police what happened but Angela doesn’t want to bring the incident out.  She just wanted a silent and peaceful living.  Soon, they decided to keep it untold.

It is really good that she has her Lola who comforts her every time she has problems.  She’s grateful to the Lord for having her. Every time she remembers the tragic encounter, her Lola would tell her, “Apo, you’re thinking about it again… don’t let this be your hindrance in achieving any goal you have, leave it that way. Don’t be stuck with the past, I love you and you will never be alone as I am here.”  This is the most inspiring thought of her Lola she’ll never forget.

One morning, she heard murmurs from the sala that woke her up.  Lola called her then, “Angela, come… your Mama and Papa have just arrived.”  There was excitement in Lola’s voice and so in Angela. This is the best news she ever heard. After hearing that, she jumped from bed and run downstairs.  She was so eager to see her parents once more.  And she found herself hugging her parents. There were tears — tears of joy, seeing her parents once more.  They fill every corner of their home with joy and laughter, which wasn’t so years ago. And once more, smile in Angela’s face is evident, a picture of happiness — longed for, for so long.

Weeks passed.  Angela’s parents’ vacation is almost over.  They’re so worried of telling this to their daughter because they know she’d cry again.  As they’re having breakfast one morning, they have decided to inform Angela about the trip.  And as usual, since they arrived, Angela got to the table with a smile on her face for she’s really happy to have them again.  But as they began to speak, Angela threw up.  She hurriedly went to the kitchen.  They were left puzzled and worried about her.  Lola grew worried, because she made a conclusion, and so sure that Angela’s having morning sickness — the result of the bad incident.  They heard a noise from the kitchen.  They found her body lying on the floor.  They immediately brought her to the hospital.  After some diagnosis the doctor inform them that Angela’s pregnant.  They were shocked except for Lola.  And they went rushing to her room.  They found Angela sitting on bed, hopelessly staring outside the window where she witness a scene of a happy family — a couple with their cute little girl.  This is what Angela long most during her childhood that she didn’t experience.

A slap on her face brought her back to the present, she was shocked.  She saw her mother looking at her, like a beast ready to eat its prey.  She was so confused, she didn’t know what the matter was.  “Ma-a.., what is it?”, she asked innocently.  “You’re 1 month pregnant according to the doctor,” her father started.  “How could this be?  Do you already have your boyfriend and had sex with him? Is that what you learned?”  She can’t find a word to utter.  Yet her tears started to flow.  Once again her mother asked her but this time it is more terrifying.  “What happened, Angela?!”  With this, is another slap on her face.  Angela can’t find a word to say.  She doesn’t know how to start because of the scene she’d never expected to happen. This time, the mother had convinced her daughter to speak.  “Ma,” Angela started but there’s still fear in her. “I am a victim of rape, kept for days by men who used me,” she tearfully said.  Her parents were shocked, “I… I tried to escape but I failed.  It’s good I was able to convince them to set me free, alive.  At first I wanted to be dead, yet I think of all of you whom I shall be leaving, I just wanted to see you once more and be with you.”  After hearing her, her Mama and Papa look at each other.  Angela’s right.  “Yes, I always wanted to be at your side since you left me with Lola,” Angela continued, “I envy the other children before, for they enjoy their childhood life with their mothers and fathers beside them. They love them so much. But me? I long for what they have. It’s good I have Lola who’s always with me and took care of me until now.  She’s the only person whom I poured my sentiments with, in all those times..and now you’re leaving me again?  Go on!  Make your life the best with all you have.  I can manage… I did it for years.  I can do it… with Lola.”  The couple were speechless, knowing Angela’s right.  On their way home, his father’s still eager to know who did this to her.  “Angela, who did this to you, do you know them?”, her father asked her. “As I have said, it is no more important.  What is important now is my baby whom I shall be giving birth and take good care of.  I will never make the same mistakes you did… I will love my baby with the best way I can.”  Her father was quite hurt of what he heard from Angela.  It’s true.  They let her live her life alone without them.

Years passed, Angela’s baby’s now a cute little darling like her when she’s just a li’l kid.  She’s happy playing with the other children near them, while her Lolo and Lola are so happy watching her.  “If only Angela’s here, she’d know the feeling of being a mother of an angel, like Angeline.”  It’s Angeline’s Lolo, “Uh! Sure, with this kind of baby she would probably enjoy her life as a parent… if only she didn’t die…” Angeline’s Lola started to cry again after remembering Angela, who died after giving birth with Angeline.  “Stop crying. That’s God’s will, we will all end there.  What we shall do now is to give Angeline, our apo, the best we can do and never leave her as what we’ve done with Angela,” Lolo ended.

Author:   Amy Gunnacao

*Cover story for True Fiends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)

November 6, 2008

ABU…

Filed under: Family, Relationships — thewritersguild @ 9:11 am

“Abu, bye-bye, kiddo,” I said.  Jus replied, “Abu, bye-bye, mommy.”  It’s our way of ending our conversation, no matter what emotional state we’re in…angry, ecstatic, playful, whiny… abu.  I’m not talking about Aladdin’s thief-monkey-friend Abu nor a name common in Mindanao.  You won’t find its meaning in any English dictionary nor an Etymology book.  It doesn’t belong in any language, save for the language of our hearts — my son’s and mine.  Abu — noun, verb, three words rolled into one; origin: mouth of a babe; dates back thirteen years ago; pronounced as a baby would… a-bu.  You can hear it spoken between parent and child (sometimes), between siblings (rarely), between friends (not always), between lovers (not so often).  Only, it’s uttered in three words.  ABU - generic term: I love you.

Even before Jus learned any word, I always talk to him and often say “I love you.”  It was on one lovely day, when he was one-plus year old, that he responded as he cradled my face between his small hands and cooed, “abu…abu…”  From then on, he’d say ‘abu’ everytime he hears my ‘I love you’.  In time, it was I who gave in to the baby-talk and learned to say ‘abu’.  My little baby taught me the most beautiful word in the world.

For some of us, ‘I love you’ is a foreign statement.  It’s scary to utter it.  Embarrassing, corny, mushy to even speak of.  What do we fear?  Rejection, humiliation, or being misunderstood?  To heck with that!  Open your heart and mind, sweetie.  There are thousands of reasons to say ‘I love you’ to someone, from merely trivial to the most mundane or deepest.  I say ‘I love you’ to you for wiping off the crumbs of chickenjoy on my face; for lending me your toothbrush; for the delayed salary which had finally reached my bank account; for booking my flight; for sending me to and picking me up from the airport; for the warm clothes, chocolate-chip cookies and warm hugs; for simply your presence in my life; for this little corner; for my page on TF newsmag –  where I can reach out and touch a heart…  I say ‘I love you’ when I’m grateful, appreciative, thankful, and joyful for what I have.  If you’re hesitant to say ‘I love you’ to your loved one because you’re afraid someone might overhear it and call you a sentimental fool, just say ‘abu’.  The eavesdroppers will wonder what on earth you’re talking about.  To heaven with ‘em!  Speak up, sweetmeat!  It’s even all right to say, “I love you, big butt.”

Besides Jus, there’s another sweet soul whom I speak ‘abu’ with.  My Abest (which, in my vocabulary, means above the best).  Sometimes we find our best friends in our own blood.  That’s with my cousin Jayz.  He taught me the proper use of ‘heaven’ in a phrase it fits best — “to heaven with ‘em”, instead of the ‘hell’ misfit.  We call each other ‘pangit’ (ugly), which is soothing to our ears.  And there’s now Mr B who’d instinctively know something’s not right with me whenever I missed the “abu” in our conversations.

With mom, daddybear, bigbrobear, broAbear, and the rest of the family bears, I use the generic ‘I love you’.  Distance brought us closer to the things we wanted to say.  It’s through the wires that we’re finally bridging gaps.

Jus’ “Abu, good night, inang,” and Jayz’s “Abu, good night, pangit,” are messages of warmth and ‘hugs’ that put me on a sound slumber at night.

Abu, keep a joyful heart…

Author:  Joy Marqueses,  TF Newsmag

*published in The Filipino Now International Magazine (March 2007 issue; p.13)

**reprinted in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)

November 4, 2008

IKAW ANG AKING BUHAY

Filed under: Poems — thewritersguild @ 4:43 pm

Nang maramdaman ko ang iyong pagpintig,
Napuno ng sigla ang aking daigdig
Ipinangako sa sarili na sa iyo iaalay,
Lahat ng makakaya, kahit ang aking buhay.

Habang ikaw nga ay nasa aking sinapupunan,
Bawat paggalaw mo’y sadyang hinihintay
Kaligayahan ang hatid sa puso’t isipan
Ang ngiti sa labi ko ay hindi napaparam

Ang iyong pagsilang ay pinananabikan
Hindi ko mahintay na ikaw ay mahawakan
At nang makita ka wala akong masambit
Isa kang munting anghel na kaloob ng langit

Dumaloy sa mata ko luha ng kaligayahan
Habang yakap kita sa aking kandungan
Ika’y ligaya ko at inspirasyon sa buhay
Tanging ang maghihiwalay sa atin ay ang kamatayan

Binantayan ko ang iyong paglaki
Wala akong hinangad, kundi iyong ikabubuti
Lahat ng hirap ko at mga pighati
Ay naiibsang lahat, kapag ikaw ay ngumiti

Iniwan nga kita noong ika’y musmos pa
Walang katiyakan kung muling magkikita
Ngunit sa puso ko’y laging andito ka
Hindi ka nawala sa aking alaala

Anak ikaw ang buhay ko at wala ng iba
Lagi kong dalangin na muli kang makasama
Muling maramdaman yakap mo sa twina,
Ang makapiling ka, tunay na ligaya.

Author:  Zyrel,  TWG

*Published in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)