9 March 2020

 It's 5:23AM. The birds are chirping.

I woke up 3:58, and couldn't go back to sleep.

It was a bit warm even with the fan. I opened the window to let some fresh air in. A beautiful rising crescent moon greeted me. 

A wave of memories strike.

It's 5:29AM. The birds are still chirping. I wonder what they are communicating about. Is it about the yummy chico they usually feast on? Is it a god-song of a new day? Is it a mother bird rousing her children, "wake up! The early bird catches the worm!"

It's 5:32AM. While my mind is alert, my eyes are getting sleepy. In 28 minutes, my weekday alarm will start singing it's wake up world tune. 30 minutes after that, I have to rouse Alon to get ready for his class.

I wish I could write more, but while my thoughts are plenty, my drive to gather the right words is limited.

Soon. I feel it.

Rogue One

My FB memories yesterday came up with this:

I was referring to packing up for our trip to Cebu just a few hours before our flight. :P

I apparently misquoted Jyn*.  This reinterpretation, however, accurately represents the reflection I have from my weekend Zoom reunions (which ended up somewhat like NatSit sessions). 

The world remains a mess and is deeply divided, sometimes even among our own families and communities. But then I thought, maybe those of us who despair are looking at it wrong. 

Maybe because we have been "fighting" to win. And when one can't see a win in sight, despair follows. Maybe we need to recalibrate our thoughts and realize, it may not always be about the winning. Life and the world isn't a race or a contest after all. 

Maybe this is what the sad tale of Rogue One is telling us. Sometimes, it's not about winning the battle or the war. Sometimes, it's about making a stand, and fighting for it regardless of the outcome. 

We fight because we can. We fight because we should. We fight because it is what is right.

Sometimes, the story is the fight itself, rather than the victory.

* * * * *

The actual quote goes: 

What chance do we have? The question is "what choice." Run, hide, plead for mercy, scatter your forces. You give way to an enemy this evil with this much power and you condemn the galaxy to an eternity of submission. The time to fight is now!

Dear Row...

I lie on our flimsy mattress with a light headache while hoping for a bit of nap to take upon me. It is at this moment when "With A Smile" plays on iTunes. Nothing like a classic Eraserheads hit to press that nostalgia button. Not that it takes much these days when almost all things remind me of our youthful past. A sign of old age? Perhaps. But maybe it is also a sign that we have been living for quite some time. I'd say it two different things. :)

Ely Buendia todoodoodoos his way to my memories, particularly one that has you in it. We are at the Xavier Hall benches. It is nearing midnight, or maybe past it. It is one of those nights we decide to own the school for ourselves. It was one of those nights we decide to stay as late as we can in the campus. A sleepover with no sleep nor bed. That was all the visual memory the song brought me but I imagine we might have laid down on Bellarmine Field looking up at the starry sky, probably talking about classmates, boys, dreams, boys, fears, boys -- the usual stuff late teenage girls usually talk about. I imagine we walked the halls of EDSA (is it still called that now?) looking at org boards, with me probably taking some nicely-made poster down to post on my study desk wall.

That must have been fifteen years ago. When every moment used Eraserheads songs for background music. How amusing that we thought we "understood" the world, yet it hardly understood us! We thought our hearts were the most important things, that the possibility of it breaking was just too much! Fifteen years hence, our hearts have been broken several times over and yet here we are, happy and content. We are still searching and wanting more, I am sure, but probably the expectations are less and hopefully, the disappointments as well.

We are full-fledged adults plagued by taxes, loans, home-building, parenting and so many more. Such things we thought trivial then! I look back and laugh at our idealistic ways... and I revel in it with much gusto! How we lived then. We lived with much flair and flourish! Youth is NOT wasted on the young. It is perfect for it! When else could we be silly and make mistakes? Isn't it perfect that we can blame youth for what we did then?!

I look back to things that happened between then and now. Our angst, our rebellion, our invincibility, our stupidity. It might have been that no one noticed but us. And who cares? We LIVED! We relished. We sucked out the marrow of the bone of life! O captain, my captain! We made our lives the teen movie that we pictured it to be. No chance to revise the script but just to go through it without anyone shouting cut and every moment a scream for action.

It was a lovely youth, Row. I think it led to this lovely life I live. Life is not perfect. It can never be. I shall continue to want, to desire, to be envious. I am only human after all. But the last 30 years I learned to know that life is as good as you want it to be despite the kinks and bumps.

And with that, I thank you. :) Thank you for sharing that exciting youth that I had. I will forever relish lying down on Bellarmine Field with you and the rest of the gang. I will forever cherish sitting by the LHC tree, and when higad season comes in, on the lib steps with the entire LHC and whomever among the batch we can invite to join us.

Laughter, anger, tears and more laughter. Adolescence could not be any more enjoyable than that. :)

Dear Divine...

It was a bit ironic when I received the message of your passing. It was the middle of the second quarter of the Game 2 of ADMU-FEU game. I was all pumped up because Ateneo was trailing the first quarter. I could not bear a third game. We had to win this. I was so nervous, my knees were a bit trembly. The trembling got worse when I received Adette's message. You left us already.

Suddenly, the sounds from crowd became a little muted (you can never really totally drown out a cheering Ateneo gallery), the game a little fuzzy around the edges. It was not only my knees that felt weak but my shoulders as well. My eyes were tearing up a bit.

I can't say I felt pain when I heard the news. Your passing was different from Rosing's. Her death caught everybody by surprise. She left so suddenly that we felt like lost JVP orphans. But Rosing has always been a wonder. Those of us she left behind, we all knew that she would go straight to heaven. We know she would constantly be looking out for all of us, as she has always done when she was alive.

What I felt was a bit of sadness. People should not be in hospital beds when they are 27. They should not have tumors in their lungs. They should be falling in love or having broken hearts. They should be catching falling stars or falling themselves. They should be realizing their dreams or making new ones. They should have decided what they want or still as confused as they where when they were 18. They should be anything but sick.

But I also felt a little relieved. Your suffering has finally ended. You have achieved your everlasting peace. I was glad that your batchmates, family and friends were with you throughout your ordeal. I was certain that nothing else could make you ever feel as ready as much as knowing that you have loved and that you were loved. You would have gone knowing that your life was significant and meaningful. I was certain you were surrounded by an ethereal bright light with gentle hands taking yours, leading you the way, making you feel most welcome... making you feel loved, the kind of love our earthly love could not compare to.

The rest of the second quarter was a blur. When half time came, I had the chance to breathe and think and feel. I shed a few tears in that crowded stadium. I said a prayer and talked to you a bit. During the fourth quarter, I had a bit of naughty conversation with you of which I know you will take as a joke rather than be offended. :P

I was looking at your FB page the other day, looking at your pictures. Each of them had that wonderful smile of yours. It's always that smile I associate with you. The purity of spirit that shines forth that grin. I was also looking at the messages pouring in. I am comforted that you have lived a beautiful life no matter how short it was.

Thank you, Divine, for brightening up the world with your presence. :)

I will continue to pray for the healing of your parents. I think they are the most in pain with what happened. I continue to feel a slight pang in my heart whenever I remember your mother's message during that mass in the Lung Center. I hope she finds her peace of mind as well.

Watch over us, dear Divine. When I visit Mindoro, I'll make sure to whisper your name to the wind.

Yours,
Anj