TATAY

I found out, just last night that my lolo, whom i call "Tatay" has a rare kind of cancer. He has a tumor in his chest according to the test results.

Tatay is 80 years old. He wouldn't be able to survive a major operation, the doctors say.

Other options would be chemotherapy or cobalt for his treatment. But again, his body might not welcome these types of medication.

I find my family deliberating between providing health care or simply leaving it to God and to time.

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I love my Tatay.

Nanay died last year (August) of Alzheimer's.

I wouldn't be able to take it if he passes away a year after. It would be too soon.

They took care of me when I was a child; we have a deep attachment for each other. Having lost Nanay has truly broken my heart, inspite of the fact that she was already diagnosed with her sickness a good ten years back.

The thought of losing Tatay is slowly cutting through my soul...

I hope we could give him the most appropriate treatment.

Spending time with him would also be a priority. My memories of him and with him are still not enough to tide me over until I grow old and weary, myself. Perhaps it is because of the knowledge that his life on this Earth is nearing its end. I refuse to let him go...not just yet. I need him still.

Everytime we visit, upon arriving and before leaving, I always tell Tatay that I love him.

Tay, when you first saw me and held me in your arms after I came into the world, I already loved you. Up until your last breath while I hold you in my arms, I will be whispering - I love you, Tatay Inggo.

"plastic," anyone?

I was proud of the IMB family.

I thought we had it all --- close friendships as well as harmonious & effective working relationships. I was wrong.

I thought we were different from the other shows since we genuinely love each other and we enjoy working as a group. We had unity and camaraderie. Most importantly, we had transparency and we were open to critique & talk to one another.

I didn't expect that some people in the show would forego our friendships and talk about us behind our backs. They didn't have the courage to talk to us about it. Or they could have given us the cold shoulder if they truly abhor our "maarte" behavior. Instead, they faced us with sweet smiles & warm hugs. To pretend that everything was ok is just too much. If you hate us, tell us. We won't stab you in the back...er...I mean we won't bite!

We were deceived. We were betrayed.


We were family.

They call us the "mean girls."
I call them the "plastics!"

a streak of dementia

My bangs have grown longer. It has been irritating me for the whole day.
After cut-to-cut editing, I decided to cut it.
IMB cubicle.Facing the mirror and talking with angel, I performed the deed.
Every instant reaction was a negative one, well...understandably so.
But I love my shorter bangs, though it really seems disastrous (public conception).
Without regret nor remorse, I cheerfully sport my new bangs. I feel good about it.
Plus, it grows on people. Hehe. Koryn and Angel both agree that I am now a bjork look-alike. They have both accepted that it kinda suits me. Thanks gurls. *twinkle, twinkle smile*

Other people might laugh when they see me. But it's okay. I'm happy.

the procrastinator

I'm really sad. I haven't been able to post my blog for our good friend, Reden dela Merced who passed away last April. The text has been in my Palm for the past weeks; I just couldn't seem to find the time to encode it. I keep putting it off for the next day, the next week, or even the next month. Busy days and nights are my usual justification, which I know is wrong.

"Never a day without a line" - I envy the people who embody this principle. They are the ones who make it a point to 'write' each day as part of their routine. I have friends who need a daily dose of updating their blogs or simply checking their friendster accounts. I could never be like them but I wish I could be.

And I KNOW that wishing and hoping wouldn't get me there. *frown*