my so-called life

My mom is my best friend.

Growing up, i consider myself truly lucky because i have a mother with whom i can be totally honest with. She was never the “punish now, feel remorse later” type of a mom. she was more the “lets sit down and talk about it” mom. from those days when i was in high school where we would put our feet up in the bedroom (in our vain attempt to escape varicose veins) while we do a recap of what happened to us that day leading up to the most recent 8 am to 8pm running errands day (hehehe dakilang driver, right mom?) she and i have that kind of bond that transcends blood ties.

while i might be known in my profession because of my dad, i would like to believe that the woman i have become is all because of her. a very loyal and supportive wife to her husband, loving “stage mother” to her kids (hehehe), diligent career woman, strength, beauty and grace personified… it would truly be an honor if i could become even half the woman that my mother is.

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda

Happiness is fleeting.

We, who long for happy endings, place little importance on this realization that happiness is oftentimes like a flickering light in the midst of darkness.

And so, we take for granted the little moments that make us happy,

not knowing that it is these little moments that make life worthwhile.

A pat on the back and a handshake from a colleague for a job well done.

A smile from that one person you admire the most.

A hug from a long absent friend.

A kiss from the beloved you have waited for so long.

Birthdays. Reunions. Weddings. Celebrations.

Funny how we place little importance on these small moments

when these are the very same ones which set apart

the dullness of our existence.

In a moment, we are in the midst of the revelry.

A second or two, that moment is gone.