Tremor (Poetry)

As suddenly as it began, it stopped

Without any warning, it just attacked

A murmur, a wee tremor, a flutter

My heart will tremble, what’s this, I wonder?


Smile as Bright as the Sun

“Smile often in order to have more reasons to smile about.” – Princess Hye-myung, My Sassy Girl Korean Drama

It’s just another ordinary Sunday to ponder about life and its drama.  So today, let me share with you, one of the catching quotes I read from a Korean drama I was watching lately.

You must have noticed by now that I seemed to be a bit partial with Korean dramas. What I particularly love from watching them are the moral values and teachings imparted in most stories especially the historical dramas. 

So, the above quotation has not failed to enlighten me and inspire me for this week’s post.

The previous months had been quite challenging for me that there came a point where I thought there seemed to be no reason to smile about.  I wake up in the morning and go about everything I was supposed to do for the day. I was on automatic mode. I work with a gloomy feeling, with my chest so heavy.

But then I realized, who am I punishing with this kind of attitude?  The more I think seriously of my situation, the heavier my heart became. God saw me through those difficult times, so I chose to trust Him fully with everything. With that thought, that choked feeling, the heaviness in my heart lifted. I can smile again.

I decided, whenever things got too heavy, I just need to think of something to smile about to lift my spirit up again, and whenever the heaviness of the heart started, I sing or hum, at least.

Why let ourselves be shackled ny our worldy worries when there must be a lot to smile about? Miracles happen everyday, we just need to acknowledge it for it to change our life and make our day brighter. 

A positive attitude is like a magnet. It pulls in positive energy that can repel negativeness away. Let us exude that positive energy and prevent darkness from prevailing. Smile as bright as the glaring sun in a hot summer day.

Luxurious Moments?

Warm hugs and cuddles

Entirely make up

For all life struggles

That we’ve to face up.

I woke up this morning to warm hugs and cuddles.  Ain’t that the best way ever to wake up to?  It made me smile and greet the new day with a positive spirit and energy.  It wiped away the troubles and pains of yesterday effectively and made me feel thankful that I am given another day, another chance to enjoy life and submerge myself in this euphoric feeling of having loved as great a guy as this man smiling down at me, waking me up with a sweet kiss and warm hugs.

Over nineteen years of being married, being comfortable and fully-adjusted with each other’s sleeping patterns and habits complete with all the odd stuffs like snoring, gritting of teeth, even drooling (Ew!!!  Hahaha!!!).  

Each day had passed by almost in a blur, like movie scenes scrolled fast forward. Days came tumbling one after another, getting routinary –day in and day out — that we tend to take for granted wonderful, seemingly ordinary things and  events in our lives, such as waking up face-to-face with the same person we lived with all these years

Having days such as this, made me think back once again to those days when we were still young and just started out together on this journey we called “married life”.  Hay…

Oops, don’t misunderstand me.  I don’t regret being married and all that.  My married life may not be made up of silk and bright colors, but, neither is it all dreary black.  It may have been a bumpy ride but it isn’t that all scary.  I would say it has been fun.  There were ups and downs, loops and jumps, but all of these events had made life interesting and even exciting.  

It’s just that time can fly by us so swiftly.  It passes by us so fast that there were days we cannot even have the time to appreciate how bright the sun shines or how beautiful the birds sing.  We were just too busy living our lives, that is.

But, today waking up to such a beautiful day, made me wonder, how many times in the past years had I failed to savor the sweetness of moments like this?  Has it become a luxury that I failed to grasp and enjoy when it was already offered in a silver platter?

Whatever it is though, I decided once and for all, it’s not yet that too late for me to hold my fortune firmly in my hands.  I just have to once in a while lay back and enjoy my great fortune, indulge myself in luxury, if indeed time has turned moments like this into luxury…because I’m worthy of it.

Into Finding That Niche

While I was reading some posts from bloggers who recently liked my own posts or followed me, I came upon this post (please refer to this link: and I thought, he summed it all up what I am thinking right now.  Bravo, GJ Seth, you nailed it!

Well, you could say that from the start, I really don’t have a specific category in mind for my blog.  My blog was somewhat just an expression of my current state of mind or my present interests and I know that not so many are really interested with what is going on with someone else’s life unless they are very extraordinary, and not so many have the same interests in what interests me.

After four months of regular blogging every Wednesdays and Sundays (that is, if nothing odd is happening with me), I began to analyze my own blog.  Comparing it with the works of fellow bloggers I follow, I admit that the likes I was receiving were few. 

I then ask myself, what is my honest reaction to this?  
First of all, I am sad and disappointed.   Sad, because I felt I somewhat failed the people who gave me their vote of confidence by following me.  Disappointed, because I must have expected a bit too much for my own good.

Secondly, I feel uncertain, undecided.  What will I do next from this day onwards?  Is the blog still worth keeping?

Then, when everything was getting a bit emotional which seemed to be happening a little too often lately, I looked at my notifications and read through them again.  Then realization struck me like lightning in a very clear sky.

The fact that there are people who like my posts, old followers and new ones, even if it is only one or two, it does indicate that I haven’t totally failed in affecting people.  Though the main objective of the blog was to touch as many people as possible, being able to express myself explicitly in the first place, has already made the reason of creating this blog a success.

Wasn’t the reason of all these was “finding a niche of my own in the vast world of literature”?  So far, I can very well say that no matter how small that mark I have made, I believe that I did find that niche I was looking for.  It might be considered as just a little crack compared to others but creating rapport with the few wonderful bloggers I’ve met here so far, suffice for any disappointment I may have felt.  

So, as an advice to my own self, give yourself a chance to learn from past experiences of blogging.  Try to be more observant of what really is going on around you.  Feel what perks people up and gather inspiration from them.  Explore the vastness of this world with a keener mind and to not dwell too much in your own small world.

Hmm, good advice, don’t you think?  Let’s see if I can make good at it.

A Test of Faith?

These past two whole weeks had proven to be the most hectic weeks of my life ever.  

Starting with an ultrasound on the Monday of Holy Week, followed with an appointment to a surgeon on Wednesday when I saw the result and then the setting up of schedule for the operation on the following Saturday.  The whole week of waiting for the day of operation was excruciating with worrying for the cost and, of course, the operation itself, whether the whole procedure will occur without a hitch and all the negative things that could happen on that day were runing through my mind.

Finally, the day, April 22, 2017, came with all the brightness and heat of a hot summer day.  
We left the house, which was almost an hour drive from the hospital, three hours earlier and waited for another hour on a bench across the hospital’s pharmacy before I went to the admitting section and submitted the documents necessary to get the approval for surgery from the billing section.  It only took fifteen minutes to fill up forms, secure the approval and present the same together with the surgeon’s orders at the operating room.  Time check:  11:15am.  The operation was supposed to be scheduled at 12 noon.

Another two hours of relentless waiting at the hallway inside the operating room, with my daughter being interviewed and prepared for the operation after signing the consent for the procedure, made the day more dramatic, with me feeling like I was the one at the edge of the precipice instead of just being the guardian and a very worried mother.

At around 1:10 pm, my daughter finally entered the operating room on her own two feet.  Was I sounding like a  very proud mother?  She had just entered when the walls felt like it vibrated with the angry berating of the anesthesiologist for seeing her parient made to walk to her bed at the operating room.  It was only then we knew that she should have been wheeled or laid down on a gurney to the room.  I felt too bad for the friendly and good-natured young man who interviewed my daughter and led her to the operating room.  Thank goodness, all was well because she didn’t fall over or feel dizzy when she went in.

Almost an hour later, she was transferred to the recovery room and I was happy enough to see her peacefully sleeping.  

We were advised to have our lunch since it will take another hour before she wakes up from sedation.  We never had the appetite to eat more than a serving each of  french fries bought from a nearby food chain store and a regular-size cup of softdrink my husband and I shared between the two of us.  I just couldn’t wait to see when my daughter is going to open her eyes from sedation.  Stories of people not waking up from sedation kept playing on my mind making me fidget and fret.  It was like waging a battle of faith against fear for my daughter.  I kept on praying she would wake up when she was supposed ro wake up.

When she finally did wake up almost  an hour after she was transferred to the recovery room, I was one happy mama when I saw her open her eyes.  Time check:  3:08pm.  She was doing much better.

The attending nurse at the recovery room told me she would call me to come over when it was time for my daughter to change back into street clothes after she had rested for another hour or two.  In the meantime, I was told to process her clearance.

Two hours  later, the male nurse gathered her change of clothing.  She was alert enough to change into her clothes with my help and the female nurse.  After she had changed, the nurse made her sit on a plastic chair and I was ushered out again to wait outside until the nurse felt it safe to call for a wheelchair.  A few minutes later the nurse had to take back the tube for the oxygen she had already given to me (somewhat like a souvenir of the operation) and put it back on because she had gone pale while sitting on the chair.  When I looked into her, she was back on the hospital bed with the oxygen and the monitors back again with her blood pressure at 97/74.

Oh my God!  That was like standing me up on a plank with nothing but rough waters below.  That moment, I rather chose to be on that bed than standing a few feet from it, frozen with worry at how white her lips were.  I thought that was the worst of it.  A few minutes later, we were told to prepare some crackers and my husband thoughtfully bought water with it and I was instructed to let her nibble on it.  She first asked for water.  She took three or four sips at the most and took a small bite of cracker when she began to gag.  Can you imagine how a mother would feel at the sight of her newly-operated daughter heaving at such few intake of water and cracker?  I was told again to wait outside.

Finally, after almost two hours of waiting outside of the recovery room, the nurse informed me my daughter is finally sitting again on a chair and nibbling on a piece of cracker.  An attendant was called to wheel her from the recovery room which happened to be at the second floor down to the ground floor.

The more than five hours stay at the operating room was finally over.  Relief washed over me as we drove our way home, with her comfortably ensconced on piles of throw pillows my husband brought along for the drive, dozing off all the way home.

Narrating the entire event this way, made me see how I must have overreacted over the whole deal, how the entire event made me feel like I aged by the.minute while waiting for her to rouse up enough for us to go home.  In those five to six hours, I fluctuate from one minute a deep believer to a wavering mother in another.  I began to think about what had I done in the past that may have placed me in this situation.  Indeed is faced with situations where one or one’s family are in danger, we began to think we might be being punished for a wrong done or like Job, our faith is being tested.

No matter what though, one thing I realized is that God loves me for despite my doubts and incessant worrying, He had shown me in so.many ways and in lots of time that He is always there, that when I call for Him in my dire need, He does not forsake me.  I may feel at times, my faith is being tested, but I know, time and time again, that God will be by my side.

Facing The Mirror

When we say “mirror”, what’s the most popular line that comes to mind, will it be “Magic Mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all,” by the Evil Queen in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?  Or in Philippine setting, is it Boy Abunda saying, “I’m bringing out my magic mirror”?  How about if you are to face your own imaginary mirror, are you ready to face your true self?  Am I?

Oftentimes, on Facebook, we see people (acquaintances, friends, family) who love to post famous quotes or derogatory lines that seemed to point fingers at another person or is meant to make another feel shameful or to prick someone’s conscience BUT failed to notice that these lines are more apt reminders to themselves.  I am sure a name of a particular someone will suddenly pop into your mind.

We ask ourselves, how come they don’t seem to realize it?

That is, for the plain reason that no one can see the mud on one’s face unless one faces the mirror and be honest enough to admit the truth that is revealed there no matter how harsh is it.

Yes, I say, it is very difficult for anyone to face one’s self in that imaginary mirror and see what is revealed there.  I’ll bet that not so many will even spare a moment to face that mirror.

Will you?

Facing the mirror might reveal two things:  things you are proud of yourself and things that you will never even admit to yourself to be capable of thinking or doing, things you are ashamed of.  Thus, facing the mirror is tantamount to facing the demons haunting your mind, or looking at the ghost of a forgotten past, or the gaping mouth of a lion making you tremble in trepidation, fear and shame.  It is, in other words, admitting to your weaknesses and mistakes to that one person who is most important to you, YOURSELF.

For even to myself I have to admit that facing that mirror might ask more than I am ready to give and might reveal more than I care to accept.

But today, I want to gather up the courage to face that mirror and look into what it will reveal.

It revealed that in my life, there are things that made me wish I can turn back the clock of times so I can change them, or that I can even change myself for the better.

It also revealed that there are things I am capable of doing for the sake of love, for the sake of my family, for survival, for the right to exist in this world.

But most of all, it revealed I am what I am today because of those events that happened in my past.  I can say that I became a much stronger, braver, and wiser person than I was before.

I may have grown in a  family that may not be all that different among the usual sob stories you see in television, but let it suffice to say that at a young age, I gained a deeper understanding of life.

I realized that in order to change what people can remember of me and my family, I had to change the direction of their thoughts not on the sad facts of my life but on my triumphant journey towards achieving the goals I have set my eyes upon.  I wanted them to always remember, instead, where I am now.

I am neither filthy rich, nor am I with a distinguished position in society but I feel what I have now–a stable job, a supportive mother, a loving husband and three lovely daughters, an undying dream–are enough to make me feel I am on the top of the world.

There are maybe things that I have done that I may regret for my whole life but then there is no point on lingering on such regrettable past for what is left to be done is to move forward and to try doing what is right so I won’t commit the same mistakes again.  I will maybe forever whip myself in my mind but I will not allow myself to forever cower in fear and shame, for in this world, I may not be perfect but I am the best in giving my all for my family.

So, how about you?  Are you ready in…

(Photo Credits:  Workbook on Facing the Mirror by Daphne Delay)