Month: June 2012

Wake-up call

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I woke up at around one o’clock this morning crying because of some bad dream. In my dream, my husband and his brother died almost simultaneously at different places, but of the same cause: vehicular accident. My brother-in-law was ran over by a car, whereas my husband was ran over by a truck as he was running after my eldest daughter, trying to save her from that same truck. It was so bizarre! As soon as I started crying in my dreams, especially because of the latter, I could no longer stop myself from doing so. I lay awake in bed for a few minutes, trying to sort my feelings and the details of the dream. In the last part of my dream, as I was crying out loud, various questions ran through my head: why did it have to be my husband? How would I raise my children now, especially that I do not have a steady income of my own? Is my husband truly saved? I woke up at the last question and realized that I’ve been …

Why I no longer wear my wedding ring

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I recently unearthed five rolls of unprocessed films in one of our cabinets, which I readily took to a photo processing shop to be developed. I had the pictures copied to a disk, and while I was viewing them on my computer, I saw one that really caught my attention. It has my left hand wearing my long-lost white gold wedding band. I couldn’t remember why I had that picture taken, although I suspect that it must be because of the tattoo at the back of my hand that one of my daughters must have drawn using their gel tattoo pens. Nevertheless, I am happy to have this picture now, especially that it’s the only reminder I have of the wedding rings that my husband and I used to have. It has been three years now since my husband and I lost our wedding rings. I have felt more than once the silent scorn, the doubtful thoughts of other people around me, especially women, as they stare at my bare hands, wondering if I were truly and legally married. After all, …

Unwanted: last minute changes

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Summer vacation’s over and just when I thought things were doing great, I find myself faced with a huge challenge that I could certainly do without. It was early Monday morning this week when I was awaken by a series of text messages from my younger daughter’s school, saying that their class schedule had changed from morning to afternoon. My reaction? I literally freaked out. I started crying out of sheer disappointment and anger. (Okay, so that makes me a drama princess, I guess.) I sent the school’s assistant directress an impassioned message in response, explaining how unhappy I was that they had to change their decision at the last minute, and explained in detail why the new schedule would not work with our unique family setup, especially for a stay-at-home mom like myself without a helper and relies on public transportation to get to one place from anouther. Not to mention that I do not only have one child but two, and their class schedules are simply opposite. This may seem such a small feat, but at that …

Give me my space, please!

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God has a funny way of rebuking me each time I harbor negative feelings, particularly anger. I have realized that each time I’m cheesed off with someone or something, I start to feel the symptoms of peripheral neuropathy all over again. The tingling sensations on my scalp, arms, and legs would return. It’s like I’m being told quietly but firmly: “Face the fact that you are upset, then deal with the person or situation maturely, rationally, with wisdom. If you have something to do with it, admit it and chastise yourself as well.” Lately, I seem to be always catching myself resisting the urge to bite off the head of heavyset individuals that would happen to sit next to me in a public transportation. You see, I am that kind of person who values her space so much and is also careful not to invade one’s personal space. Hence, as I take my seat in a public vehicle, the first thing I would do is calculate how much space my fellow passengers and I are …