Celebration of Life

It’s supposed to be my Dad’s 64th birthday today. He died a month after his 60th birthday.

And then my mind wandered to this paradoxical question… Is death more celebrated than life?

Only after his death did Michael Jackson manage to be in the limelight again. Before that, he was just a has-been who managed to sell the best-selling album of all time. Now that he is gone, he has “enjoyed” more attention while he was alive after his heyday.

On August 1, former President Aquino passed away and we saw a celebration of her life participated in by the whole nation.

And now, we see a review of Senator Edward Kennedy’s life in the news. I just came to know more of this icon only after he passed away.

While listening to the eulogies for the former president, I asked a friend why there can’t be the same outpouring of celebration and affirmation while people are still breathing and can hear all the good you have to say about them. Doing this may seem unnatural, probably morbid even.

These are public figures whom I didn’t have the opportunity to meet and yet their lives, or the end of it, made me realize that life must be celebrated.

In a less gloomy note, I admire the people who know how to affirm their loved ones while they’re still around. I myself haven’t done this a lot. I realize I should be appreciative of more people around me, whether be it by actions or words.

To borrow Plato’s words, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.” And so I decided that I'll try my best to express kindness to the people around me before they become casualties of their own battles, real or imaginary.

View from the Top

Whenever I watch something on screen, I love when the camera shows an aerial shot of the whole place whether it’s a huge city or a small town. You don’t get that in real life. All you get is a Google street view.


The aerial shot gives me a different perspective each time. That’s why the view from the 40th floor never ceases to amaze me, an aerial view of some sort; it reminds me how small I am and how big the world is.

It puts things into perspective, that in this vast world, I occupy a space so minute that others may not see the dent I make in the time-space continuum. And yet for others, the dent is all there is.

9.8 meters per second per second

Sometimes I wonder if my acceleration is slower than the rest of the world. If the world accelerates at a dizzying rate, do I manage to maintain a somewhat constant speed or do I sometimes decelerate?

If I think about it too much, I realize I’ll just waste my time thinking about stuff that in the end doesn’t really matter. In the race called life, it doesn’t matter if I was able to outpace my fellow runners. Each person has his own pace, his own limitations. What is important is I was able to exceed my limitations.

What really matters is if I have ran the race, if I have kept the faith, and if at the end, my Master will say, “Well done, my good and faithful servant”.

Yohan

Yohan, my one-year old nephew, stays with my mom back home in the province. He has become attached to my mom that he cries whenever my mom leaves the house or appears to be walking away from the house. So when he sees someone wearing a teacher's uniform walking on the street in front of our house, he cries. He thinks anyone wearing that uniform is my mom, his lola. And he wants to tag along with her.

A simple child logic. No complicated conundrums. In his head, "Hey those are my Lola's clothes! That must be my Lola!".

Simple logic. Simple solutions.

Thanks Yohan for making me realize life need not be that complicated. The solution can be pretty simple. Who knows? That person walking in front of our house donning a teacher's uniform could really be my mom after all.

Tim Tebow

A few months ago, while we were watching TV, my brother Bob, called my attention to a college football star playing in the NCAA, who was born in the Philippines. His name is Tim Tebow and I am glad to come across this article in Inquirer about him.

http://www.filipinas.inquirer.net/?p=2021

Drive

A friend told me that she has an internal mp3 player which play certain songs while she runs. And recently, my own player got activated and one of the songs that is on repeat is Incubus' Drive.

Sometimes, I feel the fear of,
uncertainty stinging clear.
And I can't help but ask myself
how much I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer.

It's driven me before, and it seems
to have a faint, haunting mass appeal.

But lately I, am beginning to find that I,

should be the one behind the wheel.

Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there,
with open arms and open eyes.

Next track please.

Pinatubo

Meg, Vida, Don, Rex and I went up Pinatubo in April 2008. It was a memorable trek. We rode a 4x4 traversing a massive valley with small creeks and grasses, few and far between. Then, we had to hike two hours (45 minute according to the trail sign) passing through Mordor-like landscape and a creek covered with all sorts of vegetation, to get to Pinatubo's crater.

But a few weeks ago, Pinatubo became witness to another tragedy. Three tourists and two Filipinos died trekking Mt. Pinatubo while Typhoon Kiko ravage the province of Zambales and the rest of Central Luzon.

Here’s a link to the story:

http://www.philstar.com/Article.aspx?articleId=495015&publicationSubCategoryId=63

Hiking Pinatubo during the rainy season is not recommended. However, during dry months, I’d definitely recommend going up this volcano and see what the 1991 disastrous eruption left in its aftermath.

start of the 2-hour hike

the beautiful crater

the 4x4 ride

Yellow

As I watched the farewell rites for Former President Cory Aquino yesterday, I wondered whether this one day spirit of unity and nationalism can be sustained. A question that is probably burning in most of our kababayan’s minds.

Through wonderful eulogies and songs, we pay tribute to a woman who has united our nation 23 years ago and has once again united us, in her death. I was just 7 years old then and don't even know what democracy meant. And yet I knew something big was happening. All the adults were talking about it. Everybody was wearing yellow and flashing the Laban sign. Most of us now enjoy democracy but people in 1986 appreciated it more. Our generation, however, seem to take it for granted.

Yesterday, Tita Cory has once united our nation. As I hear "Handog ng Pilipino sa Mundo", I couldn’t help the tears from falling. I felt a resurgence of nationalism I haven't felt since EDSA Dos. Since my hope that that chapter was the start of something better is hanging by a thread, I’d rather leave it at that, the close of a chapter.

But at the back of my mind, when we get back to work tomorrow, what changes can we bring to make this nation better? Or do we forget about this day as if it was just one day to remember a dear departed and then eventually forget?

When something like this happens, we are reminded of our sense of history and the need for social responsibility. Events like these leave an imprint on some of us. For some, the impact results in concrete actions and life-changing decisions. For most, the only memento will be a song playing in their mind. I hope I'll be among the former.