Nine days

Hi Tatay.

In nine days, you would have turned 60.  I was actually planning a big celebration for you, just us.  I made reservations at Sofitel Manila for an overnight stay and booked a table for 5 at Spiral for your birthday dinner.  You were very excited to become a senior citizen; its perks are quite nice.  But what really motivated me to do that was your enthusiasm for good food that I can’t seem to catch until we ate at Vikings, Mall of Asia to celebrate my 27th birthday.

The kitchen was your domain.  Some may argue that it should be the garage.  You are quite the handyman.  But your ingenuity and brilliance didn’t come with elbow grease and wrenches — they came with spices and butter, fresh seafood and choice cuts, greenest greens and sweetest fruits.

You, my father, had filled our bodies with so much nourishment.  I learned from Nanay that you always felt you’ve failed to provide for us.  You have never been more wrong.  No one has satiated our life more than you did.

I miss you each time I walk in the kitchen.  In any kitchen, for that matter.  Oftentimes, I hate myself for even attempting to cook the dishes you made; I know they will always be cheap replicates.  I regret not going with you to the market or not giving you enough money to get whatever you wanted in the market.  I should have watched you more closely, inhaled deeply, so as not to lose the aroma of what you’re making.  I should have followed you around, wrote down what you did in recipe cards (that you loathe so much), just so we’d have a semblance of your inspiration lying around.

My children shall miss so much as they will not have the privilege to taste your cooking.

As I count down to your 60th birthday, and I know it is too much to ask from someone who has passed, please make me better in the kitchen.  I know no other way to honor you but to serve the people we welcome in our home — family, relatives, visitors, boyfriends, girlfriends, friends, what have yous — with the food you so carefully and thoughtfully made, filled with so much passion and love, that the scent of the pan is enough for the soul to consume.

I miss you every day.  I hurt every day.  I love you every day.  And every day will never be enough.

9 days

Silent Sunday

Today was a particularly quiet Sunday. We feel him everywhere and for some reason, not one of us bothered to fight the feeling of longing he left behind.

I wonder when the sad days would end. We all tried to go about the usual Sunday nuances but it was inescapable.

Sunday was about going to church with him driving, big lunch, long meryenda and a complaint that we wanted to go to the mall again with no intentions of buying anything.

Him being gone is an awful feeling, but missing him is worse.

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Surreal

When Jennifer Aniston divorced Brad Pitt years back, she eventually graced the cover of Vanity Fair (September 2005) to tell her side of the story.  I remember this article because of this line:

While the tabloids insist on dividing Aniston’s emotions into neat, distinct chapters, the reality is that pain and denial and anger and resignation all blur together, sometimes at the same moment—and the lengthy process of mourning is nowhere near over.

Mondays will never be the same for me, or for anyone in my family.  There is no end in sight as to when this heart-wrenching pain will turn into a normal daily occurrence.  When we lost Lolo in 2007, I admit to be irreparably broken, but now… Tatay….

I can’t even imagine how I look like.  How we all look like.  Or if we’ll ever look the same.  If we’ll even think of trying to be the within the vicinity of thinking of being the same people.  Some things are irreversible and some things stay that way.

Although it follows the natural order of things, the shock doesn’t come any softer, any gentler of a blow to the face.  Breakfast is awful; I don’t know how we all manage to weave in and out of our kitchen.  My mother may be the light of our home, but my father is the walls.  The floors.  The ceilings.  He is everything.

Or was.

Every fiber in my being prays and hopes that he passed knowing how much we love him.  Because there was never a day in our lives we didn’t feel how much he loves us.

Or loved.

The 2012 Yearend Get Together

We usually have two get togethers:  one with the Arriolas on Christmas Day and with the Susis just before the end of the year.  Because I am still sorta indisposed, I only got to tweak the Susi side.  So I hope you don’t mind.  Hyuck.  Feeling close.  Hahahaha.

This year was extra fun because of Chuchi and her amusing age.  Turning two last November 30, she’s now exceptionally witty and kind of like Glee —  she naturally breaks into song.  And she’s starting to have favorites!!!  Grrrrr.  And I am only reacting negatively because I didn’t get the same smile as Dylan did.

Dylan and Machiko

It’s also Jared’s first get together with the family.  The poor kid was pretty much knocked out the entire night.  Nonetheless, he received the most gifts I think.

Jared Franco

Since the Antipolo house got renovated, the lanai took a really long time to be put together.  I think Tito Rod had too much thinking done that he didn’t know which element to put in first.  Hahahaha.  Finally, it was almost complete and we were greeted by a tree with two cutie pie elves.

Bianca and Machiko 1

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Bianca is slowly turning Machiko into one of those kids that ought to be child stars.  But then again this comes from the point of view of a highly biased aunt.

For 2012, Bianca and Maylene were the gift givers.  Rather, gift distributors????  I’m just happy to pass the hat to the younger generation.  Marga and I did that till we’re 24…?  So it’s good that these girls are getting out of their S-H-Y phase and becoming more entertaining.  Family is after all the best audience to be around.

Bianca and Maylene

Let us also welcome the new nanny, Sherelyn!  She’s in everyone’s gift list too. :)

Sherelyn

Year after year since they have graduated, my brothers have constantly gift-wrapped gifts from them to them!  I think it’s their subtle reminder for everyone to not forget to reward themselves after a long hard worked year.  I swear, they are not in any manner suffering from mental disorders.  They’re naturally… goofy.  And crazy.  And silly.  They were, for a time, Britney Spears and the Friendly Neighborhood Gay.  But you have to be there to get the joke.  Hahaha.

Brother Self Gift

Brothers Again!

Another big surprise was Bianca!  She gave out gifts that she bought with her own money!!!  I love this little girl.  Tita Pinky and Marga said she’s been cleaning rooms around the house and doing chores to save up for the holiday gift giving.  She even had envelopes for each person she will give a gift to, so that the money is distributed evenly.  Dylan and I got our own!  Yay!  Note the overexposure.  If I didn’t take the photo, no one will.  HAHAHA.

Santa Bianca

I think she’s planning on giving gifts to EVERYONE next year.  She’s so cute!!!!  And sweet.  Excerpt from our later conversation:

Me:  Wow, Bianca you must have saved so much money!  You’re so mayaman (rich)!
Bianca:  Eh, ngayon wala na lahat!  (Now the money is all gone!)

Witty girl. :)

Anyway, Rex (aka Brother 6) was not present in the evening because of work commitments.  So the Brotherhood had only one thing to say…

Y U NO BROTHER 6?

Jared was in a gift giving mood too!  Well… drooling gift giving mood.  Did I mention he farts like a grown man?  I am yet to hear him burp but according to Mommy Jaja, it’s worse than the fart.

Santa Jared

Machiko now gets excited for gifts!  This year’s over-enthusiasm was the complete opposite of last year’s non-reaction!  Look at that grin.  :)

Machiko is Happy

Unaware of tradition, she started to pick on the gift wrapper.  Marga told her to stop and wait for all the gifts to be distributed to everyone, so we can all open the presents at the same time.  Poor kid had to wait!  Dylan’s heart was almost broken and he kept bugging me to give a small gift that she can open.  But our Machiko proved to be in complete control of her EQ.  Hahahaha.  Look at that poker face!!!!

Machiko Pokerface

I bet she went out of her mind controlling the urge to open that present!

Of course if there’s the Brotherhood, there’s the Sisterhood also.  As the sole person who was not able to eat well during the holidays because of nausea, I am still the widest!  Good Lord, I hope to be skinny soon enough.  Dylan claims to like me just as I am but we can’t all be Bridget Jones right?  ;p

Sisterhood

As early as September, my brothers and I have planned to give our parents a trip to Boracay.  This is how my brothers chose to assist me in handing over that gift.

Brothers Nude

MACHIKO IS FOREVER SCARRED!!!!

But the highlight of the evening was not the Boracay trip, but Daniel’s gift.  You see, after a two-year wait, he finally got a job.  It’s not really the most stellar job, but it was a job.  Each time someone in the family gets a job, he/she immediately becomes another gift giver.  My brother saved up IMMENSELY from his minimum wage 9 to 5 to give everyone gifts.  THOUGHTFUL GIFTS.  And I am a proud sister!!!!

After years and years of trying to trump the previous one’s statement shirts, my brother got it right the first time:

The Reveal

Presenting…. the Brotherhood.

The Brotherhood 1

They even got Dylan one!  Brother From Another Mother!  Look at that face, so touched!!!!  Hahahahaha.  My brother is so witty.  I never even thought of that.  Jared got his own too:  Brocessor.  :)

The Brotherhood 2

So… Brother 1 and Brother 6, your shirts are waiting.  Claim them already. :)

I don’t know if anyone else took photos; Marga shot videos with the iPad.  I kind of like that I’m the official photographer, but I need another one to team up with me!  I keep missing moments coz I’m too busy laughing and having fun with the cousins.

Then again, that’s a fantastic reason to not take a photo. :)

I am looking for more years like this to come, with the next one hopefully the NJ people can join in.  MAKE IT HAPPEN, PEOPLE.

Happy new year, everyone.  Don’t forget to start it right… whatever it is. :)

I miss you when it rains.

I miss you when it rains.  My youth was filled with you carrying me from the jeep to the house so I won’t have to walk in through the flood.  There are days when you’ll stop us from going down the first floor of the San Andres house because it’s flooded in, and you’ll come back up with tuyo and kamatis for breakfast.

You loved that house.  You built that house.  You built that home.  We all grew up there.  Our childhood wouldn’t have been complete without that house.

I remember you talking to my father, telling him how to handle his misfortunes.  I have never seen my father respect anyone as much as he respects you.  I honestly believe you are the only person he actually took advice from.  I also believe he wanted to be a great head of the family like you.

You never finished grade school.  Your wife barely made it to grade three.  Yet your four kids graduated college, settled with their families, here and abroad, now giving their children ten times over what you have provided.  Our parents, our aunts and uncles never stopped telling us how poverty and tough times left you unaffected.  You helped when help was needed, regardless of bloodlines, reputation and linkages.  There was nothing in your life that you never shared — from your roof, to your food, to your clothes.  You shared everything, and that was the vision that your wife carries to this day.

And my God, you loved her so much.  I have never seen a man love a woman that much.  You hated her for a while, but one word, and you were back.  You loved her so much.  For as long as I can remember — actually, from the day I started to find out what it’s like to “date” a guy — the only desire I had was to be loved the way you loved her.  And you looked at her everyday as if it’s the first time you’re seeing her.  Endless fascination.  Pure admiration.  Smitten.  Swooning.  Constantly, unending.

Our lives were completely changed with your passing.  Though we know it is part of the natural cycle, I guess not one of us ever imagined a day without you.  Your smile.  Your laughter.  The way you cry when you miss us so much.  The way you survey our boyfriends and girlfriends and give out approving nods when you like them.  Your protection.  Your touch.  Your love.

I miss you so much.  It’s been years, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of not seeing you.  I hate the fact that when I decide to get married, you won’t be there.  I may be the only one saying it now, but I know all of us left here are thinking it:  though our lives go on everyday, it remains incomplete without you.

We buried you on a rainy day.  I think the heavens mourned with us, though I selfishly think not enough.  Each time we go to your spot, it rains.  Each time we think of visiting you, it rains.  It’s like the rain is you, and you’re all over us.  You’re around us and I can taste you and I can feel you and I feel lonely and composed at the same time.

I miss you so much.  You should see your great granddaughter.  She’s a spitting image of you.

I miss you when it rains.  And lately, it’s been raining a lot.  So yeah, I miss you a lot.  But to be honest, there was never a day I did not miss you this much.