Early Birthday Blessings

"There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings."

-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Last April, when my daughter Caitlin got a recognition (she works as Travelport Helpdesk at Stefanini Philippines), she received a travel incentive worth €625. Since it was required that she present either a flight or hotel booking to be able to claim it, we decided right away to go to Singapore in October. She has been to Korea, HK and Macau, so the next place is either Bangkok or SG. Never mind if I have been there also last April, it was after all a business trip. So while she shouldered the accommodation for the five of us, her Dad and I took care of the airfare.

Today, she got her 3rd Director's Club award for being the Top Performer for the Quarter (in Asia) for Travelport. As in her past citations, she, along with the other outstanding performers, was treated to a recreational activity day with their Director. This time, they went to an archery center, aside from the usual movie and buffet lunch treat. I am happy that Caitlin is doing well in the workplace and that her efforts are being recognized. I encourage her to work hard so she can enjoy its fruits and 'party harder', so to speak. Just this month, she signed up for an insurance policy and I am so proud of this commitment of hers.

Congratulations, Cae. You are always a source of pride and joy. Thank you for the early birthday blessings. Keep it up and we are always here to support you. You are my one and only naknik.

~TheGoodGirl

Cooking and Writing and Healing

"We may not have gotten to share a lifetime together...but the memories...they're the best of my life..."
@LeaMichele

It has long been believed that whatever you are feeling at the time you are cooking will be absorbed by (or will be transferred to) the food. So you should be mindful not to be mad or sad when you cook, lest you want the diners to feel that way, too. Sabi ng matatanda, pag galit ka raw, or malungkot, wag ka na raw magluto. Although you can chop onions and they won't know that you're crying because of something else.

Remember the novel Like Water for Chocolate (Como agua para chocolate, 1992)? When Tita was baking the wedding cake (she was in love with the groom), she suddenly broke into endless tears. Tears fell into the batter and made it soggy. Everyone in the wedding who tasted and ate the cake was overcome with a terrible ache, sense of immense loss, and the same fit of longing that filled Tita's heart.

(If you are curious, watch it here https://youtu.be/lKUSWDTa_uM)

As for me, it works the other way. Cooking serves as my therapy. I want to cook to feel better. You may not always see me sad or depressed or troubled. This is something I have mastered to hide all my life. I can crack jokes and put up a brave front but you will not see through me. I appear “normal” during my down times because 'the show must go on.' Good thing I have cooking and writing. Whenever I have the blues, I will turn to cooking to chase them away. Like writing, cooking heals me. Cooking eases stress, mends broken hearts, helps overcome boredom, cures sleeplessness, and reduces anxiety. I cook my way against pain from loss, trauma, death. But instead of the food absorbing the negative vibes, the effect that cooking has on me will prevail. And the ones who will taste or eat it will feel all the love (and pride and joy) I have in my heart. Like how my writing makes you feel.

From my kitchen (and desk) to yours ❤

~TheGoodGirl

I Write The Stories (Part 2)

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

― Ernest Hemingway

Author's Note: Please see http://therealgoodgirl.blogspot.com/2014/11/i-write-stories.html for I Write The Stories Part 1

“Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.”
― William Wordsworth

“Mommy, for some reason, your blogs make me cry,” my son always tells me. “Well, some of them make me laugh. But most of them make me cry.”

I always tell him that it’s ok to cry. And that the reason why he cries is because he is now more in touch with his emotions, and he has become more sensitive to people and to their feelings. “It’s ok to feel that way,” I would assure him. He doesn’t have to feel bad or embarrassed. There's nothing wrong with being moved by words. After all, he is the son of two writers. Who would argue with that?

Caehl said he stumbled upon my blog while he was checking out the bookmarked pages in his tablet’s internet browser. He saw my “Brow Job” blog and became curious so he clicked on it, and he was hooked since then. He reads my blogs like crazy. Sometimes he would fall silent and then I would find him on the verge of tears. He would try to control his tears, but I would always comfort him and say it’s all right for him to cry. He also says some of my blogs would trigger memories and events. “Do you know why I’m asking about (a specific event)? It’s because of your Chances Are (Valentine’s)  blog,” he once said. Sometimes he would laugh out loud. Funny daw kasi yung ibang entries. I jokingly advised him one night to just focus on the funny blogs so he won’t end up crying.

My blogs have always been from the heart and soul. A combination of drama and comedy. Which is the person that I am. That’s why sometimes it takes me quite a while before I could write one. Because I write from my heart and from my soul.  Even if I did not experience or go through it firsthand. Most of the time, my readers think that I am talking about myself or narrating my experience. Especially if it’s about a sad topic. "May pinagdadaanan ba si Pam?" Because that's how I write. You can see through me. To make them real, I have to internalize or tap into the pain itself. Sometimes I am too subjective or personal to a fault. I can't detach myself or my feelings from my writings. I wear my heart on my sleeve. People who know me well know that. It's difficult for me to hide what I feel. Sometimes I feel it's a disadvantage. But when I try to be impersonal, I am not satisfied with my output. Parang pilit, parang kulang. Parang nagkukunwari. In fact, I have a lot of unpublished blogs. Yung iba, puro umpisa lang. Some, puro ending. When I’m not satisfied with my output, I just discard it.  I admit that I'm really better off writing short fiction because there, I could afford not to be objective. Fiction nga eh.

But I stopped writing fiction for a while. Oh yeah, it's been a long while. When I was in high school and college, and a few years after graduation, I would produce short stories like chickens lay eggs. And an occasional poem or two. And that was even the time when typewriters were our best friend. You could imagine how difficult it was. I was paid by magazines for my stuff. Real money. Checques would arrive in the mail just like that. Cool huh? Of course, that was just a bonus. Getting paid for doing what you love. The real fulfillment comes from seeing your work published on honest-to-goodness magazine pages. Something that old-school and traditional writers like me would understand. And of course, the pride of seeing your name on print. And getting pats on the back. My dad used to buy many copies so he could distribute them to his friends. There was even a time when one of his friends asked him, “Leo, have you been telling your daughter about me? I could see myself in her story.” And that was a story which I wrote from a dream.

And that’s the other reward- when people tell you they’ve read what you wrote and that they enjoyed it. Like how my son is appreciating my blogs now. Sadly, I don’t have the time (and the patience) to go back to fiction writing. My husband still tries. But I know he is too busy for that. I still dream of writing a novel someday. Maybe someday. In the meantime, I get a kick out of writing blogs like this. And it makes me happy when people like what I write. Thank you so much, my dear readers. I don’t think I need to come up with a reason why I continue to do so. God gave me this gift. I live and breathe words. And I will write (and bleed) forever.

~TheGoodGirl

Lost and Found

“Every one of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That’s part of what it means to be alive.” 

― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

Thank you for everything, and for the inspiration behind this blog.

(I have not been blogging for quite some time. Aside from being busy, I just couldn’t seem to find an appropriate topic. Ironic though that when I finally did have a topic – it’s about loss.)

A loss is something I do not want to write about. Unless it is weight loss. Kidding aside, if there’s one topic which I don’t look forward to write about or that I find difficult to be objective about, it is on loss of a loved one or losing someone you love. I just cannot be detached from the topic. And even if I want to write about it and share my experience, I would keep on postponing it or setting it aside. Hey, it is a downer topic. Nobody wants to read about sadness. Or pain. The same way that I do not want to be reminded of people whom I have lost – be it because of death, separation, or relationship breakup. And when I do get to write about it, I wear my heart on my sleeve, embarrassingly opening my soul to everyone.

So many poems and love songs have been written about losing someone you love (Taylor Swift, are you listening?). Loss is real. Grief is real.  (A) loss is a deep personal experience. We all have our own share of losing someone and we all have our own coping mechanisms, and maybe there is no right or wrong way to deal with it. If you have ever lost someone – parent, spouse, sibling, child, friend, a pet even - you would know how it feels and how it tears you apart. The pain, the guilt, the bitterness, the mourning, the yearning, the struggle.  Enduring it is one thing, forgetting and moving on is another. A good friend, Jannette, even said, “(There is) no alternative. Wala kang choice. You cannot run away from it. Wala kasing kapalit yung nawala mo. There is no replacement (of the loss). Talagang pagdudusahan mo.” There is no other way to put it. You really have to go through it. Walang short-cut. There is no immediate cure, you will really have to help yourself to heal. Well, there would be other people to help you out or to support you. But in the end, only you can say that “Kaya ko ito, I will be ok.”

Cry if you have to. Grieve. Mourn. But the most important thing is, you rise above the pain. Nothing is permanent. Nothing stays. But hope endures and faith remains. Tough times don't last, but tough people do. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Everything will be all right in the end. Maybe not this moment, maybe not today, or tomorrow. But someday. That day will come. Even though the process may be slow or may take a long time, the day will come that the wounds will heal. It may not make you forget totally, but at least, in the end, time will help you forget the pain that came with the loss. When a bad thing happens, such as a loss, they say that you have three choices – you can either let it define you, let it destroy you or let it strengthen you. It’s really up to you. Let go of things that hinder your growth, or happiness, or freedom. Free yourself. Let go of feelings that won’t help. Focus on the good and positive. Find yourself. And always remember and live the lessons learned from the loss.

“Scars mean you fought. Wrinkles mean you lived. Heartache means you loved.”

― Matshona Dhliwayo 

~TheGoodGirl

Paparap papa (For Papa on Fathers' Day 2017)

(Author's Note: This blog was originally published last June 18, 2012. Re-posting it for Father's Day 2017 with updates / edits.)

The latest #LoveKitaPa video of McDonald’s Philippines on Father’s Day reminded me so much of my father. Yes, dads have this unique and remarkable trait of waiting patiently, no matter what. And I had the honor and pleasure of having such a dad. My siblings and I were hatid-sundo most of our lives. I will never forget how he would pick us up after school activities or parties, waiting outside and never at all complaining. How he would bring me to basketball practices and games, and he would just be at the sidelines, waiting for me while I was busily swooning over Alvin Patrimonio, Allan Caidic, Jojo Lastimosa, Glenn Capacio, Hector Calma, and the rest of the national team players. And of course, he was my favorite buddy at the ULTRA, watching Ginebra games, Jawo fans eh! My friends have not forgotten this, either. And even if I was already married and we didn't have a car yet, he would still drop me off at the office or at the airport when I have official trips. 

When I was a teenage girl, I suffered from severe dysmenorrhea (painful menstrual periods). If you are a female and you’re having it or you used to have it, then I don’t have to explain. If you’re a male, you don’t want to hear or know about it, just understand and sympathize.

The cramps used to wake me up at night. I would lie awake in cold sweat. Sometimes, the pain would be accompanied by diarrhea or just the urge to poop but once you’re sitting on the toilet, namimilipit sa sakit, wala naman.

I would crawl my way to my parents’ bedroom, and rouse my father from sleep. He didn’t have to ask what was going on. He would just lead me back to our room, go to the kitchen, and come back with a hot water bottle. I would place it on my abdomen and try to go back to sleep. Oh yes, I would finally sleep like a log, but the person I woke up would still be awake, watching over me.

I'm married with two kids and my dysmenorrhea has disappeared a long time ago. But I will never get tired of telling this story.

For almost seven years now, I’ve been fatherless. People out there whose dads have passed away can relate to this feeling. Nakakamiss di ba? Sometimes, as I walk home, I would suddenly remember him, or something would remind me of him, and para akong tanga na naiiyak sa daan. Sometimes, just before falling asleep at night, especially if I have problems, or something made me feel bad, I would suddenly think of him and cry. Like now. 

Oh no, my father was not perfect, I wasn’t a perfect daughter, either. I wasn’t able to give him the satisfaction of having a lawyer for a daughter, and maybe I will never be a lawyer. I’m sorry for that, Papa. But I can never be like you, you were exceptional and one of a kind.

Wherever you are now, I hope you’re at peace. Sa heaven, wala raw beer hehehe and sa heaven, hindi kailangan ng abogado (kasi mababait na ang mga nandyan). Wala ring komedyante siguro diyan (kasi masasaya ang mga nandyan). Kaya wala kang trabaho diyan hahaha

I love you, Papa and I miss you so much. I may not have painful periods anymore but I still wish you were here with me, because there are pains that simply wouldn’t go away…

Happy Father's Day to all fathers!

~TheGoodGirl

Mama Mia

(Author's Note: This blog was originally published last May 13, 2012. Re-posting it for Mother's Day 2017 with updates / edits.)

When my father passed away last December 2010, everyone was worried about my mom. Because they are aware of her medical condition, the focus was actually on her, “Kumusta na (ang) mama mo (How is your mom)?”

To most people, she is a fragile woman, a quiet one. After all, who wouldn’t be tagged as quiet with Papa around doing most of the talking? Prim and proper, she doesn’t know how to swear. She always reprimands us for talking aloud or for doing unladylike things. “Patricia! Ang boses mo (Watch your voice)!” she would always admonish my eldest sister.

And it was always Papa who took the credit. “Mana sa iyo ang mga anak mo (Your children take after you), Attorney,” referring to our academic achievements. Everyone had a high regard for him, being a CPA and a lawyer. But to me, Mama is the more intelligent one. She was just keeping a low profile, and yes, because she wasn’t a show-off or loud like Papa.  Mama has her share of medals and awards during her school days. After high school at UST, she took up Accountancy at UE (they have the same alma mater) and worked as an accountant in various companies until the early or mid-80s when she started to get sick.

From her, I think I got my obsession with organization (be it work-related or personal matters). My appointments / meetings have to be calendared.  Everything has to be written, noted, advised, informed, or announced. I always have to have a journal, a “To Do” list, and a grocery/shopping list. Looking back now, I realized we have the same format of “payables” list every 15th/30th and grocery list (items are according to aisle / category). Beside the phone, there should be a notepad and pens. Documents/files have to be in labeled folders or envelopes, alphabetically arranged, including books (I have to confirm this with her again but I remember her saying she also dreamed of becoming a librarian). My father didn’t need a secretary or EA, my mom’s the best organizer. When you ask her for something, she knew where it was kept.

From her too, I got my carry-all addiction, my Girl Scout-always ready trait. One of my favorite moments explaining this was when we were on our way to a family outing once. My eldest sister said, “Sana may asin tayo (I wish we brought some salt).” I think we were eating either boiled eggs or Indian mangoes that time. Voila, my mother produced small packets of iodized salt from McDonald’s. See? Now you know why I cannot and will never survive with a small bag. 

In more ways than one, it turned out I am like my mother but physically, we got Papa’s features. Unfortunately, we did not inherit Mama’s beauty and fairness. Although some people would say my brother looks like her.

My mom may look frail and delicate, but I also realized after my Papa’s death that she is the strongest and bravest person among us. We didn’t expect that but she truly is. The power and capacity of her heart to accept and bear everything in silence, grace and dignity is amazing and inspiring. And worth emulating.

My mom’s 73 years old now, and her memory has started to fail. She would ask for the same information over and over and would get frustrated at herself for forgetting even the simplest of things. For someone who was used to being organized and efficient, I can understand her frustration. One just has to be more patient with her.

She used to be busy with church, socio-civic activities (being a member of Catholic Women’s League or CWL, and Kiwanis Club), and aerobics classes in the village, and she would hear Mass every 6AM every day. But after one or two epileptic seizure episodes in the church where she hit her head or bit her tongue, and people around her did not know what to do, we were afraid to let her leave the house alone. So now, she just keeps herself occupied with her plants, and with her two great grandchildren. Since she doesn’t live with me, I don’t get to spend a lot of time with her, but I am thankful that my sisters are able to take good care of her.

Each time I celebrate my birthday, I would call up my folks as a habit. Since my father died, I think I have never failed to call up my mom just to hear her greeting. She has this child-like voice over the phone, and I would wait for her to giggle as I tease her and remind her of my age. I have a weird way of showing my love. But I know that she knows that I love her. I just hope she won't forget that.

Happy Mothers’ Day, Mama!

~TheGoodGirl

My heartfelt thanks to you, 2016

Good people are like candles. They burn themselves up to give others light.

Hindi naman ako masyadong...

Reading tweets and Facebook posts about saying goodbye to 2016 or not being able to wait to bid 2016 goodbye makes one think, how cruel could 2016 be or how badly has it treated you that you would want to quickly kick the year away and welcome 2017. “We couldn’t take it anymore.” “I will not miss you, 2016.” “Good riddance, 2016." “Be good to me, New Year.” But how about next year, shall you still say the same to 2017 in 2018?

Talking to Caehl about it, I told him that the best attitude is to be thankful, to be grateful for everything that has happened in the year that has just passed. To always count our blessings. “It’s not so bad.” At least, we are still here, alive and kicking. Despite going through tough and challenging and character-testing times.

My thyroid scare, for one.  Inasmuch as it scared the hell out of me, I came out of the episode appreciating than ever God’s love, my life, my health, my family and everyone I dearly love. It made me realize what (or who) matters most in this world.  It was almost like a new life, a second chance, a new beginning. And not all people get to experience that. When I thought I was going to undergo thyroidectomy, my fear was not being able to go back to emceeing / hosting, as the endocrinologist warned me that it might affect my voice. It cannot be, I said. Hosting has always been my passion, and my way to give back, by sharing with others the gift that has been given to me. And when the surgery did not push through, I promised myself that I will accept emceeing / hosting jobs as much as I can, as long as my schedule permits it. Because that's the only way I can pay it forward.

2016 was a happy year for me. I have my loved ones, I have my job. Yes, hate me if you will. I am one of the very few who look forward to Mondays. And why not, I love my job - it pays the bills. My children are always a source of pride and joy. And although I am growing older (the wrinkles and lines are showing, no grey or white hair though), I still am young at heart. And I still get to write. 

In 2016 too, I lost some friends along the way. Nagtatampo ako sa iba for choosing other people over me. Tried and tested years of friendship over new ones? But I guess, that's their prerogative. Maybe I have my shortcomings, too. I know naman when to hold on, and when to let go. Some of them, I had to give up and lose intentionally. Toxic na. And too judgmental. Maybe my friendship with them has reached its end. FO. Hanggang doon na lang. And may mga bagay na hindi pinipilit o pinipigil o pinipigilan. Ok na yun. We’ve had our good times to remember, and I will always treasure those times. In my memory jars.

In truth, it doesn’t matter if it’s 2016 or 2015, or 2017. Whatever year it is, always give thanks with a grateful heart. Always be thankful. And always learn from your experiences.

Continue to inspire people and always leave a sparkle everywhere you go. Be a better version of yourself. See the goodness in everything. And never lose hope – because hope is a good thing. All these and so much more – in 2017.

para sa kilay na hindi natutulog

~TheGoodGirl