An Old Letter to Kayla

Dear Kayla,

Many times, I watched you as you sleep wishing you could still be my little baby… but your legs are too long now… your body, too lean.  I fret about these stormy teenage years that you’re going through but I assure myself that you’re a good girl so there is no need to fret.  I tried to raise you to be strong and smart and level-headed and I believe you are.  You make me proud because you are what you are but at the same time, frustrated, because you are not all that you can be.  You are so much like me… and I fret a bit more.  Children should be the improvement of their parents so I pray that you will be the best that you can be and a much, much better person than me.

I always tell you that you are God’s greatest gift to me… my main reason to be alive… the love of my life.  This is true.  Do you remember the lullaby that I used to sing to you? 

“Sleep my little baby, Mama is here…

Sleep and dream of angels… I’ll always be near.

I love you, my little princess… Through all of the years…

I love you, my little Kayla, my daughter, my dear…”

This is also true… forever.

17/10/2008

Kayla's Poems

Kayla wrote the following poems when she was still a little girl...

Precious Water

The faucet drips all day and night

Just have it fixed or close it tight!
A flood of water descends the mounts
But every precious drop still counts.

The water flows, you brush your teeth
The water flows, you wash your feet
Just think of all the water lost
To close the tap, what does it cost?

The water that you take to school
The water that is clean and cool
You sip a bit, the rest you ditch,
Such waste should never be one’s pitch!

Parents

They say they will not get it

They say that they won’t understand

They say they would put a stop to it

They say they won’t give a hand.

Your sins they say they won’t forgive

Most definite is they won’t forget

Your life will not be fun to live

And swear you’ll always have regret.

I wonder why mine are so great

While theirs are clearly so horrific?

My parents, I know I’ll never trade

For no one can be as terrific! 

I Am Done

I am done, yes.

I no longer have joie de vivre.

I no longer want to sparkle.

I no longer want to "teri-rize".

I can no longer see anything to look forward to.

I look at myself in the mirror and I see dead eyes.

I am heart-dead.

I am done... yes.

Lost Friend

I'm deeply saddened by the loss of a friend. Not to death, no.

Once upon a time, I had a friend who I thought would go places if she set her mind to it and not stray. I gave her advice and guidance like an older sister. Later on, when her career was zooming, she told me that she did listen and followed some of them which made me happy. Somehow, I felt she gave me credit to her success albeit a failed marriage.

Years passed and she went on to be a jet-setting, branded-clad, branded-bag-toting, diamond-studded big boss of a big company, the first Filipina to head a department full of ex-pats with Filipina maids, living in a posh condo with a doorman in a city that costs gazillions per square inch. I would brag about her to some friends because she really had gone a looooong way.

I went to stay with her when I visited the country she lives in and boy, was I impressed with her. I felt proud that she is what she is because I loved her dearly. I stayed in a room full of designer bags that I didn't even recognize since I have no interest in stuff I cannot afford. Then one night, she rummaged through her bags in search of something which turned out to be a ziploc of currencies. I helped search. It was my first time to touch some of those brands! They felt and smelled expensive as I am sure they are. But it was nowhere to be found. I shrugged thinking oh, maybe she just misplaced it... it's probably just taxi money... no big deal.

Days later, I asked her if she found it and she said no, and that she was going to consult a clairvoyant to find out who stole her hard-earned money. I thought that was a shocker... how can a modern woman like her even think a clairvoyant is credible when they all have only a 50% chance of being right?  Then I suddenly realized I was one of her suspects! I was aghast! I may be poor but I am no thief. Hell, if I were to steal from her, I would not bother searching her bags just in case there are monies in there when glittery rocks are just strewn on her desk.

For weeks afterwards, I felt a heaviness in my heart. I did not hear from her nor did I try to contact her. I was hurt.  I was insulted.  I was disappointed that our friendship which I thought was special and forever would not be enough to immediately exclude me from her suspects.

Finally, I unfriended her on FB. I knew that even if she someday said hi and oh, the clairvoyant told her it was someone else, there is no redemption. Such an insult cannot save our friendship. All I have is my integrity and even if you are a beloved friend, it cannot be questioned like that.

It saddened me deeply... I have only a handful of real friends and now, I have one less.

Menopause and Me

I am menopausing.

I'm having hot flashes.

I'm feeling blue.

I'm having insecurity spells.

I feel like I have reached the end of my tether.

Woe are the people around me who are exposed to my mood swings.

My co-worker said maybe I should interact strictly with non-living things at this state.

I agree.

Body Shaming

I came across the story of a mother who took offense at a saleslady's advice that her daughter should wear a girdle with a gown. The nerve of the woman to imply that her daughter's body was shameful. Her daughter who swims, runs, does yoga, etc... so fit and healthy... perfect because she is God's creation... sure... but she still needs a girdle to look better in the gown. As a matter of fact, the mother should have seen that for herself.

Mothers think their children are perfect. And they are! But this world is not yours alone and there will be people out there who will not agree.  Why not appreciate helpful guidance like that? Why be offended by a simple fact like that? There are meanies out there... and they can crush a girl's dignity with a couple of snide remarks and giggles. So why not put on the hat of a meanie, look at the world the way a meanie does, think meanie things and protect your children from such? When I see a girl walking around in an unbecoming outfit, I wonder where their mothers were and why they let them out of their house looking like that.

So I looked at the comments on this post and many declared how beautiful the girl was, how stunning she looked in the gown, etc. No... they are liars. They are trying to brainwash the girl. She was bulging all over the gown which is not for her body type. Surely there is a more flattering cut for her. My daughter is blessed with a nice, slim figure so it is easy to dress her up but if she were chunky, I'd get her dresses that would flatter her chunkiness.

We all know that if that girl went to the prom in that dress, she'll be easy picking for all the meanie girls there. Why would any mother want that? Just get her another dress or get the dang girdle!

I remember when Kayla was a junior and I sent her to the JS prom in a simple straight evening dress. She told me she was so under-dressed and indeed I saw the others in ball gowns. I deeply regretted that! She will always remember that I made her go under-dressed and I cannot bear the thought that she may have gotten picked on by ball-gown-clad meanies. So in her senior year, I had a ball gown made to her liking plus a lovely cocktail dress to change into after the ball. She was happier.

Going back to perfect girl who needs a girdle, now that her mother's post has gone viral, she's probably unhappier because you can bet your twinkies the meanies in her school actually told her to her face that she really DID need a girdle for that dress... maybe even nastier things than that.

The truth hurts. Pick your battles. Viral is not always the way to go.

God's perfect creations cannot always get justice from man's imperfect creations.

This is not heaven after all.


**picture from the FB post

I Pretend

I play pretend a lot.

I pretend everything is hunky dory.

I feel expendable and unimportant at work so I pretend I don't care anyway I am paid well so never mind if I feel like I have reached the end of the line and there will be no more progression from here.

I feel neglected by yep, you so I pretend I'm understanding and that I am happy with what little time he gives me. I didn't get to see the light show because I wanted him to go with me... oh well, there will be another one next year.  I haven't eaten at X restaurant because I want him to go with me.. oh, well, I'm getting fat anyway.

These little things eat away at my well-being like termites gnawing on the mighty trees of the jungles. Very slow, but in time, destruction will be inevitable.

When I smile because I'm pretending it is fine, a tiny part of me dies. A tiny spark fizzles out.  A wee bubble pops.

Someday, I will be wan and it will not be pretend.