A JOURNEY, no matter how long and winding, always has an end.
I shall wake up today beaming with smiles as contagious and generous as the sun that pierces the sky at dawn. I shall stand high, elated, and grateful for today is my graduation day.
I have made many wrong turns, untimely stops, and silly U-turns in my life. From an extremely honor-driven, focused, and dedicated kind of student, I turned sour, cold, and unmindful. With my permission, I let things slip away from me. I betrayed myself by disowning my heart and by mocking my passions. I stopped believing in myself; but others didn’t.
Knowing that others chose not to give up on me while I sulked in resignation was both encouraging and tormenting. Encouraging because they made me see myself in a better light. Tormenting because they wouldn’t stop till I get up and press on. They bugged me to death till I was willing to give myself another try.
I had come to grips with the lesson that sometimes things are taken away from us so we will know how much they mean to us. It’s when they’re gone when we actually see them. It’s when we’re at the dark when we truly appreciate and long for even just a thin beam of light. It’s when I stopped writing when I began dreaming about it again. What took it so long to dawn on me that it was and is my life?
It’s when I was on my last inch of courage when I decided to press on. Against all odds, fears and rejections, I went back to school and started again from scratch. Now, I’m done – with pride for all of my hard work, with thrill for all I’ve learned; and with honor that glitters and shines from within.
Now, my heart can’t help but smile as I look back and realize what a good journey I had. The road must have been long and old, but one can’t find any hint of regret in my heart because along the way, I found treasures I would never find if I haven’t gone there – friendships, character, and appreciation for life and people. Most of all, I’ve reconciled myself back to my passion – writing. A passion owned the second time around is simply unwavering.
Every step I’ll take today will be nostalgic and sweet. The classic, triumphal beat of graduation march will make my heart dance and laugh as I’ll think about the times I wondered if this day would ever come in my life. Every step shall tell me that all of my hopes were never in vain.
Soon I will be entering a world I have been preparing myself for – one that is of full-time work as a writer. With all my heart I shall do my job. Now I understand why I had to go through many ordeals in my younger years – it was to refine me, mold me, and make me. Baby, it’s a wild world, one song says. Indeed, it is. Only those with courage, desire, and heart will survive.
...some people feel the rain,some just get wet.
since December 2006
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
A gracious end for a rough beginning
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Beyond Grief and Forgetting
(Published at Sun.Star Cebu, March 5, 2005)
Remembering numbers and names of short acquaintances is always an ordeal for me. Mama always has to remind me to be extra mindful after I’ve lost countless purses, umbrella and hankies. But in fairness, no one can blame me for not saving and preserving in my heart the people dear to me.
Last Christmas I lost Noel, a very dear friend who succumbed to a three-month ordeal out of his kidney failure. Like a kid who wished on Santa, I prayed to God that he would give him few more days. He wanted to see me and our other friends first before he would breathe his last. Thanks to technology, I was still able to talk to him on his mobile phone while he agonized on his deathbed. I felt so helpless when I heard him cry and ask for help. I was hurting till I was numb. He wanted to be home. Goodness, that’s all he wished for. But to my dismay, he never did make it. He died in Manila, and left a hole in my heart.
That Noel and I were like siblings as we grew up along with my sisters, can be seen in the frequency with which he appears in most of the old and recent photos with my family and friends. We did crazy things together, shared our dreams and talked about the days when our hair would be gray.
In our little hometown in Masbate, we used to go to one place where a lone, humble tree stood. That was the place where we once attempted drinking alcohol. There, under the shadow of that silent tree, we laughed. And cried. He baptized that tree and called it our ‘palace.’ I guess because it represented the rich, nourishing friendship we shared. Whenever we miss each other, we only need to drop by that place and it should give us company, or so we promised each other.
Obviously, I feared to face the finality of his death. It took me long to summon enough courage to drop by our palace. I was wide-eyed as I saw the tree that has grown sturdy since the last time we were there.. Its waving verdure welcomed me warmly. I got under the tree and its shadow enveloped me with a strangely familiar warmth of Noel’s hugs. How merry were the leaves, as if animated by his gaiety. Wasn’t he like a clown fond of cracking jokes? Ah, how the cool shade of that tree hushed my crying soul.
Of course, I will move on and get over this soon. With Noel gone, I thank him still for the way his demise compelled me to look at my loved ones in a warmer light. What a privilege, indeed, to have time left to spend with them even as I paint meaningful moments with them in the canvas of my being.
I should make the most of my time with them because there’s no rewind. Ever. Though painful, my friend’s death was such a pivotal reminder.
Remembering numbers and names of short acquaintances is always an ordeal for me. Mama always has to remind me to be extra mindful after I’ve lost countless purses, umbrella and hankies. But in fairness, no one can blame me for not saving and preserving in my heart the people dear to me.
Last Christmas I lost Noel, a very dear friend who succumbed to a three-month ordeal out of his kidney failure. Like a kid who wished on Santa, I prayed to God that he would give him few more days. He wanted to see me and our other friends first before he would breathe his last. Thanks to technology, I was still able to talk to him on his mobile phone while he agonized on his deathbed. I felt so helpless when I heard him cry and ask for help. I was hurting till I was numb. He wanted to be home. Goodness, that’s all he wished for. But to my dismay, he never did make it. He died in Manila, and left a hole in my heart.
That Noel and I were like siblings as we grew up along with my sisters, can be seen in the frequency with which he appears in most of the old and recent photos with my family and friends. We did crazy things together, shared our dreams and talked about the days when our hair would be gray.
In our little hometown in Masbate, we used to go to one place where a lone, humble tree stood. That was the place where we once attempted drinking alcohol. There, under the shadow of that silent tree, we laughed. And cried. He baptized that tree and called it our ‘palace.’ I guess because it represented the rich, nourishing friendship we shared. Whenever we miss each other, we only need to drop by that place and it should give us company, or so we promised each other.
Obviously, I feared to face the finality of his death. It took me long to summon enough courage to drop by our palace. I was wide-eyed as I saw the tree that has grown sturdy since the last time we were there.. Its waving verdure welcomed me warmly. I got under the tree and its shadow enveloped me with a strangely familiar warmth of Noel’s hugs. How merry were the leaves, as if animated by his gaiety. Wasn’t he like a clown fond of cracking jokes? Ah, how the cool shade of that tree hushed my crying soul.
Of course, I will move on and get over this soon. With Noel gone, I thank him still for the way his demise compelled me to look at my loved ones in a warmer light. What a privilege, indeed, to have time left to spend with them even as I paint meaningful moments with them in the canvas of my being.
I should make the most of my time with them because there’s no rewind. Ever. Though painful, my friend’s death was such a pivotal reminder.