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Thursday, October 26, 2006

A dream comes true


On Sept. 16, I blogged about a boy's little request to meet up with his idol, wrestler Batista. Pyro is a 3 year old boy who suffers from cancer. Like any other young boy, he watches wrestling and is wowed by big, bulky men. And he happens to like Batista very much. When news spread that Batista will be in town, Jojo, Mec's husband had the idea of a meeting with Batista. Thus, a series of emails passed here and there, blogger friends posting the idea on their sites hoping that somehow, the handlers of Batista would come to know of this little boy's wish.

It was a dream come true, a prayer answered for my friend Mec, Pyro's aunt, when finally, the handlers of Batista contacted her to tell her that Pyro can meet Batista in person. It was like David and Goliath sans the hostilities. Batista may seem like Goliath to us for we see him throw big men, punch heavy blows, kick like a mad man isnide the ring but in reality he, too, seems like a guy with a soft heart. You can watch the meeting here

I received an email which I'd like to share and it goes like this:

All,

Mec and I extend our gratitude, prayers and thanks to all those that helped in one way or the other to making this wish come true. I do hope that all of us would get to relate to the love and kindness that transpired to making this dream a reality. How I wish I could put into words the hapiness that is reflected in the boy's eyes after the meet and greet and after watching the wresting match live in Araneta.

We have asked so much already but forgive us if we ask for your continuous prayers for Pyro's recovery. And if you can resend this email to those that you initially sent the original email, we would be very greatful. AGAIN THANK YOU!!!


Best Regards,

Jojo Arevalo


If you would like to know about Pyro's latest condition, please read Mec's blog

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Sunday, October 15, 2006

Time flies so fast when you're having fun


I can’t believe it but my eldest daughter has officially graduated yesterday! As the cliché goes, it feels just like yesterday when I carried her in my arms, giving her smelling kisses from the neck all the way to her hair. What father did not enjoy the freshness of a baby, newly bathed and given a dose of oils, manzanilla and alcampurado and whatever stuff mothers and lolas give them? And yes, that fresh breath, devoid of impurities like meat, onions, garlic and what have you…

I remember that I would be late for work because I was playing with her on her crib. That first smile, the first step, the first words… each a milestone to her as a human being, a milestone for me and my wife as parents. We were in paradise.




So, this post is for my first born, who, in her own way, had given me much joy effortlessly and endlessly. Who, during the times of crisis in the family with the family matriarch being sick, diagnosed to be suffering from alzheimer’s (thank God I think the doctor made a miscalculation for she’s back!) rose to the occasion and took good care of her. And for that, we are forever grateful. So please, indulge with me a little more as I dedicate this poem for the very first angel in my life, my first born. I hope you like it, too.



Reversal of roles

I have seen her bathe you,
take you in her arms,
cuddle you more than her own

I witnessed how
she fed you with milk
as if it came from her bosom.

I saw the rituals she performed
to make you bright and bubbly.

she saw you grow
to who you are
and what you have become

this was yesterday
when the afternoon sun of her life
was at its highest!

and now, as you wear
your black toga and hat,
diploma in your hand,

she has reached the dusk,
awaiting dreams or even nightmares
in her sleep

old friends haunt her,
she calls them by name
although they have been long gone

from this world.
Tied to the wheelchair,
manacled to a sickness

that has no cure.
As I see you bathe, cuddle,
and feed that old soul, I know

that black robe and hat
and parchment paper are well earned
for you have not just learned

to count numbers or read a science book,
you have learned the most valuable lesson of all,
the lesson of life

and nana has taught you well. !

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About
MGA TURO NI TITO:
Twenty years of teaching must sure amount to something. A new friend in cyberspace suggested I ought to have a journal by now. I agree.


Taken by my friend Arlene Lawson in her room at Century Park Sheraton in May, 2000.
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Location: Bambang, Pasig City, Philippines

Jack of all trade, master of none. First a disclaimer. My students have discovered this blog and they might think that what I write is gospel truth. Worse is they might find an argument that they think they can use, for some reason or another, against their teachers. So, to set the record straight, it is NOT. As a matter of fact, I write and open it to feedback to get another view in the hope that somebody would tell me if I am wrong and reenforce my thinking if it is right. Not that I will accept anything thrown my way, though. Just so I can think about it some more and decide whether my original stance is right or definitely off tangent. So there. I hope that clarifies everything. Now, on to blogging.


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