It’s Almost Home..

I am down to my last two days of work and in no time, I’ll be off to Calgary to spend some time with my sister before I’ll head to the Philippines for a month-long holiday.. Honestly, I can not explain the emotion I am having right now.. Working four straight years seem to be fast, but looking at how things and people changed, I am anxious to go back to experience another sojourn in my homeland..

My body temperature is rising.. As a matter of fact, before inking this blog, I was uncomfortably sitting at 37.6 degree Celsius.. I wanna vommit.. I feel my muscle tingling with excitement and anxiety combined.. I’ve got all my papers ready and all i wanted to do now is to be on the plane and enjoy a 15-hour flight back home..

Lots of things happened for the last three years, I lose mom, and some other people I’ve valued and loved.. I’ve had many relationships that started so well and ended unexpectedly because of my personal fear to take responsibilities seriously.. I have been a casa nova for years, and my playful days are over..

Now I am 30 and I am going home engaged, I’d like to think that I am now a better and stronger man, more courageous to face and knock off my fears.. Now, I’d say I am more confident rather than conceited.. While I have hard time dealing with my frustrations, failures and loses in the past, today, I’ve learned the values and lessons of down times.. I was humbled by my defeats.. No valueable lesson can be learned the easy way.. Life has been and will always be a test of strenght, mental power and spirituality.. Faith is what I am living..

The past three years has prepared me to brave and survive harsh weathers.. The passing of my mom is my biggest lose.. But she never died in vain.. Like how she braved and fought her own battle, I will also be a warrior not only with physical strenght but most of all, of love..
Every minute that counts makes my heart pound faster and faster.. One thing for sure, my heart knows its way home..

The Rightful Claim to “Panagsana Festival”

Panagsana 2008, a set on Flickr.

I am counting days before my first ever homecoming since I left the Philippines in exchange of a greener pasture (which, is always not the case) in Canada four years ago.. While there are many exciting things I am looking forward to experiencing in my month-long holiday, which of course, includes Panagsana Festival (our hometown fiesta), my mind is debating on the righful claim of the municipality to the term Panagsana..

Panagsana is the process of traditional salt-making very unique to Barangay Davila..  Please do not get me wrong, but as far I am concern, the term itself is a treasure to Davilenios/Davilanians (folks from Davila) that it has been a lifelong part of its culture, it’s a life..

I myself is an offspring of a wedded gorgeous lad from Poblacion Dos and a beautiful lass from Barangay Davila; and growing up within the confines of two different grounds had taught me lots of things.. While downtown Pasuquin might be more of a rat race place, and Davila is a much laidback side of town, I can not in any way vividly recall or remember that the term Panagsana has been used as daily word of mouth of taga-ili (downtown folks). On the other hand, having spent all of my childhood summertime in my mother’s birthplace, the term means everything.. Panagsana is life itself to all Davilanians/Davilenios..

Maybe, I am a little obscure debating the right of the municipality to use the term as it’s official festival name, but hey, as a halfbred Davilenio/Davilanian, I think I have all the right to raise questions concerning the selection of the word itself, to be made as the town’s festival byline..

I’ve lived almost all of my life in downtown Pasuquin and I can deny by all means that Panagsana has been as popular as the festival itself in the last 20-30 years (Oh well, the festival is only on it’s 3rd or 4th year.. Correct me if I am wrong).. While it may be known as the term used by a good number of towns people only during the annual salt-making season, it was never a term that has been a part of every Pasuquinios’ life.. I bet my two cents if someone you run into at the municipal supermarket knows what an Ilna/Elna or Bakar or Pangarudkudan means or looks like?

Only Davilenios/Davilanians use those terms.. Only the dark-complexion-toned-muscle-guys and skinny-pretty-chicks from Davila can ride a karison and know exactly what the term means..

If the culture itself is very confused, so are the people comprising the society.. If Pasuquin, as a whole takes pride of the rich tradition of salt-making as it’s frontline industry, then every Pasuquinio, regardless of where they are from (mountain side, sea side, suburbs and downtown) should have their own abung-abung during the salt-making season for which they would spend two to three good months of challenging high and low tides of pinagkarudkod, ala, Davilenio/Davilanian style..

Before settlers occupied the shore of Barangays Caruan, Estancia and Cababaan and started their own salt production industry using their own approach, Panagsana has been an established unique salt-making process embedded in the lives of Davilenios/Davilanians.. It’s the most unique term that makes this Barangay outstanding and a standout from/among the rest.. The term itself is synonymous to Barangay Davila.. Panagsana is Davila, itself, and for any other Barangay in Pasuquin to engaged in the same industry, Davila alone is the runaway winner of setting the standards..

So why on earth would the Municipality of Pasuquin, used the term in its favor to make a provocative statement of merry-making, when in fact, Panagsana has not been practiced by all of Pasuquin? I doubt if the Local Government Unit (LGU) allots a chunk of it’s budget to support the salt industry that they claim, has “put back the name of Pasuquin in the map”.. If Pasuquin would have really wanted to showcase this industry as its own, there is a great need of support that is to be extended from all of the town to create a well-leveled and a better playing field for salt makers and traders, and make this industry the town’s very own..

Why don’t they simply use Biscocho (bread rolls) as a base term to showcase the rich cultural tradition of most Pasuquinios.. I am pretty sure that everyoen in Pasuquin knows Biscocho better than Panagsana.. And I’m twice much sure that Pasuquinios would rather have biscocho for a snack rather than asin (salt). Biscocho has been a rather more popular Pasuquinio product that crosses overseas for many years.. Besides, everyone in Pasuquin eats Biscocho.. (I’ll write another blog for biscocho, so I’m not gonna swerve away from my point)..

While Davila itself can be silent or generous regarding this concern, as it finds itself blessed with another rich and colorful tradition of celebrating Dumadara Festival (which, I guess is another rightful claim of the Barangay), there must be a way that sooner or later, Pasuquinios would rather wake up celebrating a festival of its own that does not only represent one side of its town but its entirety..

I am not picking any fight, but I personally believe, the use of Panagsana Festival as the town’s official fiesta name is a downright insult to Davilenios/Davilanians who for many years, have rolled up their sleeves, picked up their rakes and shovels ready for the shore, rode their karisons, burnt their skins by the shore, built their keraang and abung-abung (hut), pepared their stash for Panagsana and Pinag-maro (trading), busted their butts out under the heat of the sun, braved the unpredictable tides, and relaxed under the lights of the fireflies that flicker around the Pagsanaan at night..

I’ve Finally Found Her.. Back..

In two weeks, I will throw out a big (well, not exactly) party to welcome my 30th year of rollercoaster journey to survival.. It will be my first birthday without mom cooking her favorite dish for all the guests, and it will also be my family’s first Christmas without her (and my first at home after moving to Canada in 2008)…. While any other family will be spending their Holidays with everyone’s presence, ours will be spending sometime to pray and give thanks for 52 wonderful years of life that my mom had.. On the lighter and brighter side, what makes this whole bittersweet trip back home exciting is the time I am looking forward to spend alone with the lady that charmed me, the one I had.. I lost.. and I am praying to have back..

I met “Dimple” through my sister 10 years ago.. Back in the days, we were young and free and enjoying every single perk of a young teenage life.. The butterflies in the stomach, the whisper of sweet nothings, the infatuation and small things that a young love can do.. Trust me, I don’t know much anything about Love as a subject matter, but I have been the corniest person as far as she is concern..

She was 18 then and I was 20.. We were both chasing dreams, burning our midnight oil, proving our worth to the world and our place under the sun.. It was a young romance of two hearts beating as one (I hope I am not singing).. While we dream big of growing up, conquering our fears and the world together, we also have our fair share falling of apart.. Who would have expected that we parted ways and crossed roads three times? Who would have expected that after the worse break up over a decade ago, time would finally pave way for both of us to meet again and settle our scores?

I have had many relationships and flings after our biggest breakup 10 years ago.. I’ve committed many and repeated mistakes.. I am not the same person that I am when I have her.. Stupidity and foolishness became my constant companions, but God works in mysterious ways.. If the breakup did not happen, we might haven’t both made our own paths and mapped out our own ways to meet together again..

Over the course of time, we both matured individually and lived our lives separately.. Maybe, that was God’s whole plan.. To split us up apart, make our lives miserable, beat the hell out of us to make us even stronger and laid out plans of having us meet again.. I have not had a single dream of settling down if not with her.. I was haunted by lonesomeness and misery until I met her again.

Looking back, 10 years seem to be so long, but for someone who has the passion to wait, the endurance to learn, the desire to stumble and get up, it’s all worth it.. If there is one thing the past 10 years has taught me, it would be to learn to sacrifice some good things, expect some life’s brutal beating, embrace and brave the worse things, let go of the animosity, pause when needed, hope when everything seems to fail and pray to thank Him for simply, being awesome at everything.. There’s no sweeter reward than the feeling of being loved because of a well taken sacrifice, though sometimes, He needs to take something or someone away..

Now that I’ve finally found my lady back, mom must be having another Tango with the wind, seeing “Dimple” and I back together, working our differences, starting anew, and living the dreams.. And I hope, in no time, she’ll marry me..

Bittersweet December

It has been almost two months since mom passed away and we have not yet coped up well with the great lose.. Slowly though, we see flicker of light from a distance.. Hope and bliss are indeed real to those who keep their faith steadfast.. I’ve just done watching the video of my mom’s funeral before I’ve decided to write this entry, and I am pretty sure, wherever she is right now, she’s happy that many people love her, paid her respect and mourned her passing..

Honestly,our family is humbled to have witnessed the funeral rites done with attendees doubled that of my grandfather’s funeral in 2001.. Our family has drawn strenght from the people who unselfishly came, condoled, offered words of sympathy and prayers, sent flowers and mass cards, helped us in their own small ways during the time we are in deep sorrow.. It has been almost two months but mom’s happy memories will forever live in our hearts..

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In 14 days, I will be turning 30.. BIG 3-0, so they say; and this will be my first birthday without mom.. When I was a kid, she would always booked the 4th day of December to be a fulltime chef.. Basically, she prepares everything from small party details to the food she serves to all the guests.. The best part perhaps is the time where we would go shopping for a set or two of newclothes and my all-time “childhood” best shoe brand, “Mighty Kid”.. Yes, I was a big fan of those fancy kid shoes with the bling-bling lights flashing like Christmas bulbs.. Yes, I have banged my head accidentaly in three occassions at the mall while trying on those shoes.. And those three times I’ve had a “show-fitting-accident”, it was always mom that was with me.. She would laugh while people are around and I would get the big shit as soon as we get home for being clumsy.. That’s how she rules..

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When I’ve decided to move away from our small town to the big city, she would alwys come to visit before Christmas or even before my birthday, eventhough she knew that in few days time, I’ll be on the plane finding my way home for the holidays.. Even from a distance, she would cook and prepare some food for the family and some invited guests to celebrate my birthday at home.. Then she would phone me in the middle of the day happily telling tales of what she cooked, who she invited and how my “no-show” party went through.. I’ll for sure miss how thoughtful she was to pause for a day and keep herself busy throwing a party for a son who isfar away from home..

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In 20 days, I will be back home for a holiday after 16 long hours of air travel.. It will be unusual for me to come out of the airport not seeing her eagerly waiting for my arrival.. For the last five years, her smile would always be the first to welcome me at the airport whenever I go home for a visit.. With her trademark sunglasses and a handfan, no doubt my mom has her own style of telling other people, “move out of my way”.. We would both board in my dad’s truck and engaged in a 30-minute ride from the city to my hometown, exchanging news and tales.. Even if I want to just take a nap, passing out on her while she has the floor could be insulting and there is no room for error when she speaks..

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In 34 days, I will be off to my grandfather’(my mom’s dad) house for the annual family Christmas dinner.. It will be the first time that we won’t see mom exchanging laughters and stories with her siblings and other family members.. It will also be the first time no one will play “Mrs. Santa Claus”.. Yes, my mom has a generous soul that makes everyone shed tears of joy.. For years, she has been toching lives in her own secret ways.. I’m pretty sure that when the kids will gonna ask, “Where is Mrs. Santa Claus?”, I would probably end up dead silent trying to explain that “Mrs. Claus is now an Angel”..

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It will be 35 days before Christmas and the usual happy family picture we had for the past 29 Christmases will turn into a silent stash of mournful souls.. It will be the first Christmas without mom.. It will be my first Christmas at home since I left in 2008.. It will be our first Christmas without my sister because she has to stay in Canada for work.. It will be the first Christmas that a well-wrapped gift that’s supposed to be for my mom will be changed into a well-arranged flowers and a silent prayer offered in her grave.. It will be a bittersweet homecoming for her first-born..

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36 more days and it is supposed to be my mom’s 53rd birthday.. Unfortunately, she did not get to live enough to see my turn throw out a big party for her.. But instead of mourning, this day will change our family lives forever.. Instead of throwing out a party dedicated to her memories, we will host a Blood Letting Project named after her instead.. With the help of the Philippine National Red Cross – Laoag City Chapter, we will be spearheading a blood donation campaign that will directly benefit the people of Pasuquin, as a way of giving back the love they have shown to mom and to the whole family during the times we are in dire need of medical help.. There’s no better way to thank than to pay everyone’s selfless love back..

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In few weeks, everything and everyone will be in festive mode for the Holidays and other festivities.. For whatever’s worth that God has finally decided to take mom out from the happy family picture, I would still be grateful for the life that she has given to mom and for the life that mom has given me.. 52 years is 52 years.. She might have been gone forever but her physical death was rewarded with greater joy of being born eternally..

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I’ll see you all on 26 December 2011.. Make a difference.. Donate blood.. Or come and volunteer..

When Life Grabs You By The Balls..

when life grabs you by the balls, let it.. sometimes, we find happiness when someone plays our balls, literally (and figuratively).. who knows, life itself might give you a head..

we tend to whine and complain about a lot of things but do we really realize how stupid we are sometimes repeating mistakes, and we love to drop the world to anyone just to save our sorry asses? sometimes, we fingerpoint at someone and curse the world for being unfair, but did we ever had time being accountable to our own actions?

funny how people demand their government to stand firm and be accountable to its actions but it’s more annoying that these same exact fools who do not know nothing but complain could not even be accountable for their own actions..reality check – a government of sovereign people is always a two-way system of demand, support, action and interaction

here’s a much less painful anecdote – we complain a lot when our hockey, baseball, football or basketball team suck big time in their games and when they are rolling into deep in the standings.. we demand the clubs to trade inefficient players to more competitive guns because all we want for our team is to win.. sure yeah, so we shout “boos” when they don’t play well and when they lose an important game, and ironically, we cheer to our throats out when they win one.. isn’t that double standard? when you support a team regardless of how they perform, support them all the way without asking any question..

one simple rule that keep life’s hands off your balls is to simply be happy no matter how negative the people that sorround you.. remember, if you’re thinking that your life has always been consumed by the snooze botton, well, there are people who before going to bed set their alarms but ended up not waking at all..so the next time life grabs by by your nuts, do i really have to spell out?

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Photo Credit: The Pumpkin carve is a submission of Candace Clare to the Official Facebook Site of the NHL Calgary Flames Page re: Halloween 2011.. I do not own the still picture..

Three Years of Bittersweet Memories

Leonel Paet Aguinaldo’s photostream on Flickr.

three years can be a period so short yet a period so long.. days come and go and so are things and people.. here’s how the last three years went through, as far as i am concern.. it has been full of twists and turns, sways and swerves, fun, misery and mistery, and yes, drama.. i hope you guys enjoy..

The 1st Shirley Paet-Aguinaldo Blood Letting Project: Dugong Alay, Dugtong Buhay

Our beloved, Shirley Paet-Aguinaldo has been a recipient of blood from complete strangers from the town since she was diagnosed of brain tumor in 2001. For ten years, she has fought a good fight with the help of Pasuquinos who unselfishly donated blood. These perhaps are the people that our family will never meet and will never be able to thank for the big contribution they have given us during the times we needed the most.

Shirley ended her happy battle on the 23rd of September, and as a family devotion to give the favor back to the people of Pasuquin who need the same help, our family decided to conduct a One-Day Blood Letting Project, entitled: The 1st Shirley Paet-Aguinaldo Blood Letting Project: Dugong Alay, Dugtong Buhay, on December 26, 2011, commemorating the 53rd birth anniversary of our departed. The activity will be from 9am to 4pm.

Primarily, the purpose of the project is to collect enough blood for the Philippine National Red Cross – Laoag City Chapter blood bank, and make them available and accessible, prioritizing but not limited to Pasuquinos.

Our family will provide the venue and all the necessary materials needed for the activity. We will also serve meals to all the donors, volunteer doctors and nurses that will help in the project.
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This is not a political activity.. Any donation intended for the project will be welcomed but will be directed to the Philippine National Red Cross – Laoag City Chapter.
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We are still in need of a volunteer organization to do an educational campaign for the even.. Anyone who is interested to donate blood or volunteer during the one-day activity can send email to the contact details provided below this post..
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For more information, please send emails to: lpaguinaldo@gmail.com or to Shirley Paet-Aguinaldo Foundation webmail: shirleypaetaguinaldofoundation@gmail.com

Farewell Mother.. Farewell

Death is a thing that should not be feared off.. It’s a great equalizer and we all go to that same exact direction.. So, here’s my realization about my mom’s death..

Farewell mother, farewell..

A Thank You Message To Everyone

This is a video response I made to acknowledge the love and support that people from all over the globe showed us during our time of bereavement.. This video is especially made to air during my mom’s last night of wake.. If I have missed someone or missed to mention something, please accept my apology..
Again, Thank you to for the love and your comforting words.. The Good Lord grants you bountiful blessings..

And oh, please wear WHITE SHIRTS/COATS during mom’s funeral.. We’ve always wanted to look at her passing a happy moment for having a life well-lived, a soul well-loved and a journey well-ended..

A Fitting Farewell To A Dearly Loved Mother

When I learned about my mom’s passing away 13 days ago, my world stops spinning like there was a giant bullet that ripped right through me as an easy target.. I was weeping for days and was completely out of focus that even at work, painful tears just keep on falling without me noticing.. The pain stings further and deeper when I learned that I could not even go catch the next flight home to attend her funeral for some immigration concerns.. It took me few days to accept that I will not forever see my mom, and that all I was left to cling is her embrace at the airport three years back.. Who expected it would be the last? It was so tight, so loving and so assuring that no matter how far the distance I will be going to travel, her presence will always be there.. And all those years that I have been away, I have always wanted to come home to be there for her and for everyone but fate remained to be playful and chances remained to be elusive

It was the second day of fall and I was anxiously looking forward to the falling of orange and crispy leaves but I’ve i was welcomed by black and gloom by my much anticipated season.. Perhaps, it is as bad as they call it, Fall, because one the leaves in my family did fall to her passing.. Part of me died when my mom died.. But nevertheless, I stumbled on the realization that everyone’s going to that same exact direction, only one at a time.. That more than weeping and suffering the pain, death is actually a celebration of life, a gift that is so rarely given to those who have steadfast faith and to those who know how to love selflessly..

For the last few days, I have tried keeping myself busy and pre-occupied with my newfound job to perhaps, contemplate and think of what have I become as her son.. There were times when I completely deny the fact that she’s gone.. Perhaps, to belief that I can totally forget a bad joke about her passing but everything was real.. My mother is dead.. But even after her passing, I was trying to reach her out, daring to show herself to me and tell me why she has to leave, what she had become and if she’s happy.. I dared her to talk to me and tell straight in my very face if I was a good son to her or if she has anything agasint me before she died even only in my dreams, but to no avail.. Perhaps, there was no signal up there.. And like a telephone subscriber, she can not be reached.. For many days, I asked her the same favor, but still to no avail, until a wonderful story happened..

The third day since she passed, and I became frustrated not seeing her in my dreams, while people were telling me stories about their dreams chatting with her happily.. As I prepped up for the day’s work, I pulled over infront of a church near my community and asked her, “Okay mama, since you won’t show yourself up and you would not even talk to me in my dreams, I won’t be pushy, just give me one sign of what you have become and tell me if you are happy”, I have even demanded her saying, “do it today before the day ends”, as if I am giving an office memo to my loving mother.. I drove to work that day with heavy heart entertaining the thought that she does not love me, but as soon as I get my car parked, the big boss approached me and gave me a hug.. With it is a small bag with a condolence card and a box, so well wrapped.. I opened the box and there appeared a glossy figurine of a “comforting angel”.. So well sculpted that the first time I saw it, I cried having my question answered by a divinely sign..

For the past week, I have been trying to start drafting my video eulogy to mom but I always end up pressing the Control+Alt+Delete buttons of my computer.. Perhaps, she’s whispering me to stop pushing my neurons out.. Perhaps, mom just simply wants me to know that she has been given and rewarded that blessed assurance that the Lord is hers, and that the gift of eternal birth is the best thing she perhaps wants me to remember, more than the happy memories from the days she taught me how to talk, walk and read, the days she explained much complicated things like the “birds and the bees”, the days she worried what time will i come home, the days she feared of me getting my girlfriend pregnant, the days she cried when i have failed and the days she celebrated my small and big victories.. Perhaps, she just simply wanted me to stop writing a eulogy because eulogies are for the dead and she might probably wants me to always remember that she’s very much alive, that it takes forever to jot down the good memories I had with her..

Her battle was blissful.. She never showed signs of slowing down.. I remember the same exact word she uttered while being escorted to the Operating Room in 2001, “I will be alright”.. Those same words have always been her weapon, even when she turned into a “Bionic Woman”, which was when she became partially blind (half blind).. “I will be alright”, those same words have always been my assurance too that even in the after life, she has really been alright.. She completely lost her gift of sight, she eventually became weaker and weaker but I have not heard anything coming from her mouth questioning her fate.. Perhaps because I was miles away or because, she has always made herself prepared to meet her kingdom come, so much more prepared than any of us whom she left..

Those ten long years of happy fight are the best years of our lives.. Not only because everyone of us came to believe that miracles do happen but also because those were the years we’ve loved one another unconditionally, more than ever.. And perhaps, the most touching ending is to learn that mom surrendered her life to the Lord in my dad’s loving arm.. The same arms that promised to love and never to hurt her, the same arms that vowed to take care of her, to same arms that assured her of a happy life until eternal birth separates them apart..

It has been 13 days since mom left us, clouded by grief and sorrows.. But during this course, her passing also taught us to be grateful and to be happy – to be grateful for being given the opportunity to share a life well-live, a soul well-loved, a memory well-remembered, a blessing well-shared and to be happy for a battle well-fought, and a journey well-ended..

I have tried writing a poem dedicated to mom but unfortunately, I was not able to start even a word.. I was thinking it would be a fitting tribute to thank her and tell her that I love her and I always will, and that I will take care of dad, my sister, my grandmother and grandfather while I am serving my time.. But perhaps because my mom is not into poems and corny stuff, she distracted me so I could not doodle anything, just so I could save myself from humiliation.. That was how mom loves me, that even in the after life, she saves me from being everyone’s laughing stock.. So, instead of making everyone sneeze into tears, I’d rather wish her a safe travel to the Promised Land, and I know for sure that I will see her soon, although I wish and pervently pray, it won’t be too soon..