A Very Long Wait

I read a new article at the internet today that made me shed few more tears today.

It was Obama’s open letter to his daughters.

He talked about why he ran for President. his wish-list for his daughters on the kind of life he wants for them when they grow up (or something like that). He talked about his visions for the United States and what he will strive to achieve.

The 7th paragraph touched my heart in a different way.

Obama said he would strive to send young Americans to war ‘only for good reasons’, trying first to settle differences with other nations peacefully.

Perhaps for mothers, wives, husbands, daughters, sons, brothers, sisters, friends and relatives of any American, young or old, wearing a uniform and fighting a war that does not seem to end, they must be feeling the same feeling I have right now.

My heart is hurting too.

After what seems to be a very long time of finding and losing chances, Dave and I are finally together. A relationship built on strong friendship. With a funny marriage proposal, we planned on starting our lives together. Planned a quick wedding. Went to counseling. Postponed a wedding. Planning a big wedding.

But about a week ago, he started his training to go to war.

And as it has been for 21 years, we will be apart again. Me – here to continue planning a wedding. Him – off to Iraq to fight a war that is never his. For 400 days.

A year only has 365 days.

In the next few years, I could only hope that Obama’s words would come true. By then there will be lesser people like me who worries day and night, praying in silence that everything will be okay.

I know it will be.

It better be.

I can't have my wedding without my groom.

Uneventful

As an internet addict that I am – internet addict being someone who doesn’t have anything else to do – everyday, I get a lots of greetings from friends asking me how I am. Sometimes, the answer has been generic, often answered without thinking. “Im ok” is usually the first one that pops out of the screen. Sometimes ‘Im good’, often “ok”. It’s good enough that they see that im ok. The tears that fall out as I type the words “Im ok” doesn’t have to be highlighted.

My day is almost always the same. The alarm hits at 6:15am. I get up. Turn it on snooze then sleep back in. Dave would call at 630am, I say hello and then I would ask him to call me back (which means wake me up again) at 7am. He would, by the dot, call me again at 7am. Then I’d look at the door and I could see the morning light creeping in, so I get up. I make coffee, cook rice, turn the shower on (coz it takes a while for the heater to work, that means more water wastes) and look in my closet and figure out what should I wear for today – all in 3 minutes. Then I hit the shower, dress up, take it off, look for another set of clothes, stand in the chair inside my room so I can see my feet in the mirror, take out my breakfast from the microwave then blow dry my hair while I drink my coffee. The clock hits 735. Then I would put on my company badge (never leave home without it or I cant make the elevator work), brush my hair, put powder on my face, go to the bathroom mirror to check my face, then go to my room to check my face again. Mirrors lie so I have to do it twice. By this time I would be putting my cellphone in the mp3 mode and sticking it in my slacks while saying goodbye to my mom or my sis on skype who has been there online waking me up since 6am. Get my bags, leave the house, lock the door, play my mp3 and walk off to work. I would usually finish 3 or 4 songs, depending on how fast the traffic lights change. Songs are usually accompanied by prayers of “Lord, please don’t let it rain” chants. I don’t want to be drenched when I get to the office. I call Dave and wake him up to walk me to the office. you can’t really make a sensible conversation with a sleepy person, but its enough to keep me company while I cross the streets.

Then I stay in the office for good 8 hours. Half of it spent on working, half of it on trying to look as if im working.

5:15pm hits the clock and I start cleaning my ‘made up’ desk mess. Pull my bags out of the drawers, tuck my mp3 on pockets and head out the door after shutting down my laptop. I would pray silently that I don’t have anybody with me at the elevator…I just don’t like looking awkward in a silent space. Dave usually calls me by the time I head out the door so he can walk me home.

Then i walk and walk and walk. This time takes a little more time to get home. Traffic lights change colors a little bit longer. When I get there, I open my mailbox—which is usually empty but I like to pretend I correspond with a lot of people—then head inside my home. Put down my bags, turn my laptop on, turn the tv on, change clothes, wash dishes, cook rice, think of what to eat for dinner, then microwave some stuff. Sit in front of the laptop, turn the tv on mute and start chatting with my mom. Wait for another hour till my old coworkers get to their offices, buzz them, chat with them for a while. Wait for people to buzz me, thinking of who to buzz too. Dave calls me around 9pm, ask me if I ate dinner already then I eat dinner coz I forgot I haven’t eaten dinner yet. We get on skpe, see each other, smile at each other and then make fun of each other. We talk and surf the net at the same time. he talks about his day and I talk to him about my day while chatting with lots and lots of friends. Multitasking 101. so good at it. then we get tired and sleepy and he tells me that we should sleep already so we say our good nights. He sleeps and I pretend to be asleep. I go online until 1am. Then I go to sleep.
Then another day comes and the same thing happens.

It has been a routine. No I am not complaining. I like it the way it is. Silence tames me. it’s relaxing and soothing. i can hear my thoughts much more clearer.

A few months back and it has been more ‘rigid’. Clothes to wear and lunch were prepared the night before. Waking time was way much earlier. Walking time started way earlier. On the dot, by the dot. But I learned to just relax and enjoy the ride.

But the next few weeks are going to be a lot more quiet. Waaay way quiet. Dave wont be here to call me and wake me up in the morning. He wont be calling me during lunch. He wont be calling me anymore to walk me to work or walk me home. He wont be calling me in the evenings and wont be forcing me to go to bed

I guess it’ll be a much lonelier life.

It is again back to the old life.

Thank God I have internet.

Buzz me more, people.

Happy

I was watching a movie on TV today --bummed as ever on weekends, Dave's on base doing training-- and as usual, tears rolled as the credits did. The last line hit real hard. "Life does not always turn out the way we planned it." True. And I cried all the more.

Perhaps I will never end my rant on me living a new life--a life I never planned. As usual, I could go on forever telling everybody that I had all my life planned back home, in my home country -- and then in a wink, everything changed.

Maybe the difference with this blog is this: This time, I now know that it's meant to happen. That I am meant to be here.

That I am meant to go through all those pain to be where I am right now.

To be who I am with now.

To be as happy as I am now.

.Dreamworks.

I remember seeing myself with my head up in the sky… amazed by the fireworks as the castle changes colors every minute or two. From green to red to orange to blue to sparking white, the castle was picture perfect. Illuminated by a thousand crystal lights, the fireworks above it made it all the more perfect.

The lights danced – with the tune of Dreams Do Come True in the background.

Sitting in the pavement in what looked as if the most perfect spot in the whole kingdom, with one hand on my digital camera and the other hand being held by best friend, I was more than amused. Everything just took my breath away.

I was at the happiest place on earth with the man who made me the happiest girl on earth. With a ring on my finger and a veil on my head, I could not help but sigh and give thanks.

Everything was magical. Truly magical.

Everything just made me feel that every little thing is going to be alright.

I remember sometime two years ago, I couldn’t sleep then and I wrote a blog about the things I wanted to do before I die. I remember I wrote that someday soon I will be at Disney and that someday soon I am going to see the world. I didn’t know then when would that happen, but I figured it does not hurt to dream big.

And now everything seems to be falling in its place. The tick boxes have been marked. Check check check. I’ve done what I wished but never really thought that I could do.

I looked over at my left and my smile even grew bigger. There could have been no perfect person to be in this place but with him.

Little Miracles

I am missing Kuya Jess.

We have always been close friends. Even if I didn’t go often to see him at least once a week, he and I have a close bond. He always been by my side, patiently waiting. Guiding. Listening to my heart’s pain and my life’s joys. There were a lot of times when I doubted our friendship. I have taken him for granted for quite the longest time. Still, he did not abandon me. He was always there to pick me up when I’m down and celebrated every triumph in my life.

I spent a lot of time with him in the late months of last year. It was nice—meeting an old friend again. Him catching up on my life—of what I have become and what I wanted to be. I never really told him what I wanted then. We have lost touch for so long that I didn’t feel comfortable talking to him about it. A friendship taken for granted. Always there but not given enough attention. Still, he never turned his back on me. I closed my eyes and felt relief. I knew then that he knows. Even if I don’t tell him. I am amazed by his kindness and faith in me.

As someone always in and out of the hospital, discovering new bodily defects that translates to more money cash out from my pocket and into the doctors, I was ready to go. i was actually looking forward to it. With a time frame of only until 35, I was pretty damn sure I wouldn’t go much further. I was tired. I was stressed. I had nothing to hope for. Sounds dramatic but it was as bad as I it sounds. Somehow, I learned to make fun of it—trying to do all my life’s wishes before I die. I have my own checklist. Things needed to be done before I die.I was hurrying up on life. Trying to do everything all at one time, fearing I might not be able to do it again—a self imposed death penalty.
But Kuya Jess was a smart guy. He knew that it wasn’t really what I wanted. He told me it was just an excuse. An excuse not to do anything. An excuse not to be responsible. An easy way out of life.

He saw that I was just lost. He knew I just needed a hand on things—a small nudge to get me going, a tap on my shoulder to let me know I’m doing the right thing. He knew that I knew what I am made of all along but was just to scared to stand up for it. He knew. Smart guy, eh?
I saw him on Kuya Bert and Ate Daph’s patience to wait for me during our MPMs. I felt him when Arlyn, Tadel, Macey, Jen and Gladys hug me good night every time we hang out. He was with Kuya Ves—allowing me the chance to extend help to those who need it. He allowed me to be with Tito Man for a while—for me to actually realize that I deserve more and better. He was friends with my friends and he made a good effort to be in it.

I don’t really know what I have done (or what I have not done, for that matter) for me to deserve being his friend. Sometimes, I look back and it overwhelms me. I had nothing to offer but my sigh and my tears. But he took it all, no matter how unprecious it may seem.

I am very blessed. The best family support. I have most things a lot of people spent half of their lives waiting for. Good job. Wonderful career. Best friend cum boyfriend cum fiancée. Best boss. Best coworkers. Best neighbors. Best cousins. Best friends. Best of everything. Sometimes it scares me though—coz they say that there’s always two sides to every story and that may be all taken away from me in a snap. But Kuya Jess told me not to worry… and that I deserve to be happy.

I was at the office kitchen earlier and I overhead one person say, ‘If you’re always looking at what you don’t have, you will never be happy’. True. Correcto. I would have wanted to join in the conversation. I was the perfect example for that statement. I was, for quite a time, miserable for being ‘exiled’ in the land of milk and honey, tortured with homesickness, feeling cheated that I don’t get to be with the people I love. I was emotionally drained for wanting to go back to the life I used to live. Ready to surrender in my war called change. I was completely looking at the other side of the door. My glass was half empty. I missed out on a lot of things because I chose to be miserable when I always had the chance to be happy. It took a lot of tissues to drain down the tears. It took a lot from my friend Gina to tell me over and over again that everything will soon be better. It took a lot of forfeited hours of sleep from my parents and my sister to stay with me online so that I won’t be missing home that much. It took a lot of courage to let go of everything that I thought I wanted but only held me back all along. It took me a $20 umbrella, a $36 book on happiness and a $90 fee for shirt alteration before I finally understood that it is okay to be alone..that it’s okay to make a mistake and that it’s okay to be happy as I deserve to be.

I look back and I can’t help but smile. I am not there yet, but I am seeing where I should be going. Lost no more—for Kuya Jess never left me all this time. I see him in my boss’ eyes when he tries his best to help me settle better in my apartment and in my work. I hear him in Gina’s laugh, repeating over and over that everything will soon be better. I felt him in Dave’s words—that I am somebody and that I could be better.
Everyday I walk to my house from my work and I couldn’t help but smile. I’m missing Kuya Jess and I just have to look at what I have and who I am with and I know he’s just there.

Thankful

Last week was perhaps the closest feeling I have to being ‘in’ a family for the longest time.

Armed with my tickets and a bag full of clothes I didn’t realize I might not be able to use (of course, I couldn’t use shorts in the snow—but I brought it anyway, just in case *wink*), I braved traveling 1,416 miles from Miami to go to Detroit International Airport. (Sure, I was just from Costa Rica a week prior to Thanksgiving but international flights are much simpler and less crowded). With absolutely no idea on US domestic travel how-tos, it took me awhile to get my boarding pass to my boarding gate. Tired from carrying my big bag—including the fact that it was the last flight out because I still had to go to work earlier—I waited for my plane to arrive…anxious about what to expect. Scared that they might not like me. Weary about the snow. Excited about the upcoming sale. And hungry for some real food.

The first step in Michigan soil (or concrete for that matter), my nose almost fell off. I knew it would be cold but I didn’t expect it to be reeealllyy cold. Still, I pretended that I wasn’t cold at all. I did have my jacket in my backpack, but I didn’t want to look so pooffy so I didn’t bother. Stupid girl. Then I realized l am so lucky to be living at Florida—a weather paradise.

I can’t even explain how I felt being there. Nice is an understatement. More than being welcomed, I felt I was part of the family.
And then I realized how much I missed my own family. Being able to sit in a table and talk about nonsense. Laughing about anything and everything. Looking back at memories and getting the smile. I miss all of that. I miss the bickering, the petty fights, the cheers and the food my mom used to cook. I have only been here in the States for four months, but I feel as if it has been ages and ages ago since I left home and started living alone.

And as I sat there on the dinner table—eating Tita Alots ham and Tito Dante was making his ever famous Margarita while Dave was eating half of my plate —I felt I was home. Again.

I know there’s a lot that I am thankful for—and on that Thanksgiving Day, I just let out a sigh. Too many to mention, too many people to thank. I don’t even know where to start. The wind that brought me here, the people who helped me along the way, the pain I had to suffer to get to where I am now—everything—I am thankful.

I look back few months before this day and I can’t help but be proud of myself for what I have become. The stresses of having to relocate by yourself is too big a mountain to hurdle. But I realized I wasn’t alone in that ordeal—and that it was up to me to either feel good about it or not. I am more comfortable now being in the place where I am at. Occasional crying is still part of it, as one may never really fully recover from being taken away from the comforts of your own home. I am taking this ‘challenge’ a day at a time. Soon, I will be settled—braver to go to the doctors, or eat out alone, or go to the grocery on a weekend, or take a stroll around the park—but until then, I will continue to survive at my own pace. Learning along the way. Realizing that I should never use hot water in the washer or else my clothes would shrink one size. And that I should never leave plates unwashed on the sink for 2 days or your house will stink. Never be ashamed to ask for help. Cook your lunch the night before so you wont have to wake up early. And that I will never be able to do what most Americans do—taking a shower the night before and leave home the following day straight from the bed...because my hair will give away that fact.

Five days in Michigan made me realize how much I miss my family. Yet again, five days in Michigan made me realize how good it is to have a good solid family. Not yet so soon, but I hope to have my own too. And if and when I do start my own, I’m gonna make sure that my children can look back and say the same thing I am saying now: that it is soo good to be in the family that I am in now.

To my big fat ass friend who kinda invited me to Michigan (kinda means I kinda invited myself too), I can never thank you enough for everything. For everything that has happened and for everything that will happen. Who would have thought that 8-year old classmates would grow up to be best life buddies? 21 years of friendship and counting, I hope to add more to the years of memories.

Thank you Thanksgiving Day—for giving me 5 days of no work day and 5 days of being able to look 28 years back and realize how blessed I am.

Pura Vida

With all bags packed, I am set to go back to Miami.

Sitting here in the corner of my green bed, I have to blog and kill time as I am an hour early…forgetting that this place is an hour later than what is on my watch.

This trip to Costa Rica has been a worthwhile experience. A mixture of every little emotion that one could ever feel being in a foreign country. It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be, considering that the language made my brain bleed, but it wasn’t as hard as I thought it could be -- for the people that I have met over the last 5 days have been so warm and generous and really went out of their way to welcome me and my companion Lourdes.

The first few hours that I got here was by far the most memorable moment for all of us. Excited for my trip here, I didn’t get to eat. And because I was up all night online, I didn’t have that much sleep either. And so there we were, with all my colleagues --the bigwigs of the project--, talking and discussing about the project that we were going to do the whole week--- and there I was, leaning against a box of cartons, ready to pass out. The moment I knew I wasn’t feeling good, I fought with what I have inside---telling myself ‘No, please please not this time please not this time’. But I did not listen to myself. It was just a matter of few seconds and everything turned white. I was out. I fainted.

The next moment I opened my eyes, all my bosses where staring at me, scared to death of what was happening. It was sooo embarrassing that I wish I could just fly out there and fly straight to Miami. I mean, how could I pass out at this moment when I am trying to make an impression with my colleagues here at Costa Rica?? I was so mad at myself. I felt really stupid. I kept apologizing and they all said there’s nothing to be sorry for. I got an ice cream after that. Cool.

The language was tough. I had 3 months to practice and all that stuck to my head were the words Adios and Hola. That’s it. The rest of it I pretended to understand. And they really thought that I understand. I didn’t. I was there looking like a sitting duck, nodding my head up and down to look like I understood -- but my mind was blank. My mind was elsewhere after that. They were all talking about work and I was imagining the bubble bath that I was going to take when we get to the hotel.

But again, everything was worthwhile. Amidst the language barrier, I gained new friends. I would like to believe that somehow I made an impression too. I am almost feeling a bit disappointed at myself for I could have done better --learn the language better then maybe I was able to join in the discussions--but I can’t be too hard on myself. This is a learning process for me, the project and all, and the language is part of that. There will be more things like this to come and I have to continually tell myself that everything’s going to be ok.
Being in Costa Rica made me really appreciate where I am right now.. How blessed I am. The place is more like where I grew up from and that made me appreciate where I am now. I have come a long way and it is but right to say Thanks to Him for bringing me to the States.

Where I am now and where I will be going next... I will always be 'that girl from the Philippines'...