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Nanay's 74th Birthday Celebration, AristocratI know I have yet to post what we did on Mother’s Day, but a relevant news involving Angelina Jolie reminded me of my grandmother’s before-death battle.

My mother’s parents had been living in the US with her eldest sister for a long time when they decided to finally come home to the Philippines in October 2006. The news came as shock to everyone especially when they seem to have made up their mind before breaking it out to their children. A month or two later, we were surprised to know that my grandmother had checked herself in at St. Luke’s Medical Center to undergo a major operation: a mastectomy, removing her right breast.

Another month later, my grandmother was brought to the hospital due to complications from her operation. It turned out, she had breast cancer, and that the cancer cells have metastasized throughout her body. Everything happened so fast that no one really realized that my grandmother suffered a mild stroke in her sleep, thus resulting to slurred speech. It was devastating most especially to my mother, who was the immediate family member to attend to her needs (apart from my grandfather). My grandmother was in and out of the hospital until all seven children decided to take her home.

With the assistance of my mother’s brother, they turned my grandparents’ living room into a bedroom, fully accessible to other parts of the house (i.e., bathroom, kitchen, dining area). My grandmother was obese, so they had to take her bed down in replacement of the living room couch. Though very costly, the children decided to employ two caregivers to attend to her needs.

My grandmother’s battle with breast cancer lasted for about nine months despite her doctors’ initial assumption of only three to four months. It was heartbreaking to see my grandmother suffer with her illness. There were days when she would wail for hours, perhaps because of unbearable pain. She was restless, hardly even had a decent sleep. Likewise, it was difficult to see Mom endure the pain of seeing what her own mother’s going through. My mother was there every minute of every day.

I relive this memory as I read through Angelina Jolie’s decision to undergo a preventive double mastectomy earlier this week. According to news, her decision was influenced by the cause of her mother’s death in 2007. Marcheline Bertrand died of ovarian cancer at the age of 56, and after learning that Angelina carries a mutation of the BRCA1 gene, which sharply increases her risk of developing breast cancer and ovarian cancer, she made a decision for herself and her family. Angelina claimed that her chances of developing breast cancer have dropped from 87% to under 5%.

Not so long ago, Giuliana Rancic, a host (E! News/Fashion Police), a reality TV star (Giuliana & Bill), and a breast cancer survivor, also underwent a double mastectomy in 2011. Giuliana and her husband, Bill, had been trying to conceive a baby when she learned that she had breast cancer. I watched a few episodes of Giuliana & Bill at the time, and I could tell that it had been a very difficult situation for them and their families.

These two ladies have used their public figures as a platform to bring awareness to women, especially those who may be walking in the same shoes as theirs. I personally liked the following parting words from Angelina Jolie herself:

“For any woman reading this, I hope it helps you to know you have options,” Jolie wrote. “I want to encourage every woman, especially if you have a family history of breast or ovarian cancer, to seek out the information and medical experts who can help you through this aspect of your life, and to make your own informed choices.”

But for Jolie, the decision ultimately came down to her kids.

“I can tell my children that they don’t need to fear they will lose me to breast cancer,” she said.

This news may have rattled everyone else who has heard about it, but I truly admire her courage to do something that could greatly affect her and her family in various ways. You are phenomenal, Angelina Jolie. You truly are beautiful inside and out. God bless you and your family, Angie. May you continue to inspire people through your peacefulness as well as your battles.

18042013

Unlike most people nowadays, I don’t find popular or top-rated games applications appealing. Would you believe that I haven’t downloaded games nor music into my phone since I had it? All you can find in my phone are a library of eBooks, some photography apps, and a few apps for productivity. That’s until my brothers and I played 4 Pics, 1 Word in Jan’s (my brother’s girlfriend) iPod Touch. I find games involving words more stimulating, so it isn’t much of a surprise that I eventually got hooked on this game.

The answer to the photo above is a no-brainer. You would have guessed this the moment you saw my post in your Reader. This is my take on BLOGGING.

I know many of us have read a lot about blogging: What Makes a Blog Interesting, What Makes a Blog Successful, Tips on Blogging. The list goes on. As mentioned in my About page, I am not a professional writer nor do I have a formal background in writing, but I would like to believe that someday, somehow, I will serve as an inspiration to people from all walks of life. This remains true to this day.

Followers of this blog know very well that I have been slacking off with entries for the past few months. I do have a lot of ideas to write about in most days; you know, thoughts about random things, but I had been caught up between my day job and wedding preparations. When I do find the time, I draft a post, and gradually work on it again the next time I’m free. It isn’t like I make a living out of writing, but since it is my way of sharing my experiences, expressing my thoughts and what-nots, I know I just have to make time for it.

Two weeks ago, I blogged about my deceased friend, Gela, and her long-lost lover, Ralph. Boy, did it earn a lot of likes. I was really overwhelmed that it almost brought me to tears. I know it’s too shallow, but I don’t get that much likes in a post, hence the reaction. No, don’t take pity on me. It’s fine, really. While you’re at it, I gained a couple more followers from that entry, too. Okay, do I get to cry now? Kidding aside, these stats weren’t as dramatic as you would have imagined, but it is a good start.

Below are few of my thoughts on blogging:

  • I don’t have a particular theme for my site, but I write mostly about experiences with family and friends. I realized that I have turned my site into an online journal/diary of some sort. As my fellow blogger friend would put it, my entries oftentimes bear a personal touch.
  • As much as possible, I don’t plague my site with frivolous rants not because I want to kiss my readers’ asses (no pun intended), but for the reason that there are a lot more reasons to focus on sensible things. After all, my aim is to inspire other people, right? How am I supposed to do so if my entries are full of negative thoughts? Don’t get me wrong. It’s just me.
  • I may have this much of followers, but only few them have actually commented/reacted to my entries apart from hitting the “Like” button. More than anything else, I appreciate it when they do drop me a line or two based on what I had posted. Some comments are compliments to how much they enjoyed reading my entry, and some leave me with questions that calls for a good conversation. I can’t really blame those who just settle in liking posts they find interestingly good, and don’t bother leaving a comment because honestly, I do this, too. It isn’t because I have nothing to say at all, but sometimes, I get chickened out thinking what I’m about to say may come off completely ridiculous. I don’t want to be labeled a troll or something else worse. In my case, however, I encourage my readers to speak their minds regardless of what they are going to say.
  • Read. Go out. Meet new people. Get a life. Reminisce. Not in that particular order, but you get the drift. I do these to draw ideas from the unusual things I experience out there. When I’ve organized the pool of thoughts in my head, I put them into writing. It sounds easy, but it takes some work, too.

If you think these are all there is in blogging, you’re wrong. The possibilities are endless. In fact, I dream of being able to do stuff like host blog giveaways, post entries on fashion, share an excerpt from a fictional story I wrote myself, discuss my personal views on politics and encourage constructive criticisms/arguments without lashing out on other people, upload workout videos or make-up tutorials, etc. My fellow blogger friends influence me into believing that I will have the courage and the means to post such entries, too. Someday, someday.

It’s the first day of the New Year, and I’m sitting here in my room in deep thought. I don’t think I had enough sleep when I retired to bed at half past three in the morning. Has it been a year since I last did this on New Year’s Day? I realized that it’s becoming a ritual for a few years now.

A lot is going on in my head right now. It’s the best time to think especially now that the festivities from the holiday season are over. Tomorrow, I go back to work. I dread going back to work. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. It’s just that we have so many wedding-related things we need to accomplish sooner while Miggy is in town. That’s my other concern. In a few days, he’ll mark the end of his first month from his two-month vacation leave. It hasn’t happened yet, but I already miss him.

I know it sounds cheesy, but a few hours to welcoming the New Year, I kind of felt a bit emotional. I thought I might suddenly burst into tears. It’s a mix of excitement in anticipation for the new year, and fear of the unknown. I can’t tell which is more overpowering.

Here’s the thing: I don’t really believe in New Year’s Resolutions. If you want to change something about yourself, you need not wait for another year to start off with a clean slate. What I do need are reminders for the rest of the year [and in the years to come]:

  • Stop antagonizing your mother.

In the last quarter of 2012, my mother and I have had more misunderstandings than we usually have. My mother and I both have strong personalities, so when our opinions differ, it’s going to be an awful day for everyone. More often than not, even other members of the family get affected by our conflict. Unhealthy. Remember, “Mothers Know Best”.

  • Stop antagonizing your fiancé.

Guilty as charged. You see, Miggy and I don’t exactly have a lot in common, most especially when we are talking about personalities. I’m headstrong by nature, and he’s stubborn in his own ways. In effect, a day without bickering may be considered a miracle. It has to stop. Now. Learn to swallow your pride.

  • Stop stressing out when things don’t go as planned.

Ah, how many times do I have to remind myself of this? I need to learn this sooner especially now that we are planning for our upcoming wedding in December. Learn to accept the things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

If, by any chance, you witness me leaning towards any of the above-mentioned, please do not hesitate to give me a nudge, and lead me back on track. I will appreciate it more than anything, I swear.

I’ve never been this overwhelmed on New Year’s Day. It’s only the beginning of even more wonderful things that will come my way, our way. I guess the best thing to do now is to embrace the New Year with an optimistic disposition.

Well, then bring it on, 2013!

“I’m burning.”

It was the first thing I said to my brother when I got home from work on Friday evening. That brother of mine is not much of talker, but when he looked at me with genuine concern, the gesture kind of gave him away.

I remember waking up that morning feeling tired. It was as if I went swimming the night before, making my arms and back sore. It’s Friday, so I thought I’d run on autopilot, and go through my usual daily routine. The last work day of the week meant “dress-down day”. We are allowed to report to work in t-shirt, jeans, and rubber sneakers. Because I was feeling under the weather that morning, I settled for a yellow collared shirt and pair of black cropped denims. I was supposed to wear my old (and filthy) low-cut Chucks, but I left them by our back door. I was lucky that I had one of my brown ballet flats in the car to complete my lame outfit.

As usual, an hour or so after most of my breakfast buddies come in, we took our early break. When we return, the entire production floor is well-ventilated; so much that you would oftentimes think one will eventually freeze to death. Employees are not allowed to tweak the settings of the air-conditioning system, so it’s either you find someone to do this or die of hypothermia. Mind you, my only weapon was a Pashmina shawl.

My day at work was a drag. I was out of focus the entire time because I was cursing the coldness under my breath. I had to stop altogether about twenty minutes before my shift ends; I couldn’t take it any longer.

I was worried about driving myself home just as I always do whenever I’m this sick. It’s one of those times I wish I had a driver or at least someone to drive for me instead. By God’s grace, I reached home in one piece, but I almost crawled my way into our  house.

I checked my temperature right away. At 5:45PM, my temperature read 39.5˚C. Okay, that wasn’t a good sign. I asked my brother to boil me some water while I prepare my early dinner. It’s a good thing that Mom had cooked dinner before she left that afternoon, so we can take our meal whenever we like. When I’m done, I decided to take a warm bath. I mixed ethyl alcohol into my pail of water; something my mother does whenever one of us is sick. It is believed to potentially reduce body temperature. I wore the warmest pieces of sleepwear in my drawer, added a pair of thick socks and a hoodie jacket to complete my wardrobe. I took a tab of Bioflu, and buried myself under the covers. I had my alarm set every hour so I could check my temperature. This is the graph of my readings:

My temperature reading from Friday night (07 Dec 2012) to Saturday morning (08 Dec 2012)

My temperature reading from Friday night (07 Dec 2012) to Saturday morning (08 Dec 2012)

I don’t remember what time it was when my mother came into my room to check on me, but I know she did because I felt the back of her hand in my forehead.

The next day, my fever still hasn’t lowered to normal reading, but I was hungry. I tried to get up, and helped myself downstairs. My youngest brother was already awake, getting ready for school. I was almost finish with my breakfast when I heard him tell Mom that my other brother’s sick, too. Oh, no. I wondered how he contracted my disease when I didn’t even have colds and cough, so my illness wasn’t exactly viral. In fact, I had the impression that I was suffering from mild UTI symptoms which justify the soreness of my lower back.

It was one of those rare moments when two of us siblings are sick, so it must be hard for my parents and youngest brother to take turns in looking after my brother and I. We were both isolated in our respective rooms as if we were admitted to the hospital. I think my fever finally broke on Sunday morning while my brother remains febrile this morning when I left for work. He is the least sickly among us three, so I’m very much convinced that Mom is more worried of him that me. I mean, come on, I was able to take care of myself what with all the energy left of me on Friday night.

I’m lucky, I have the entire weekend to recuperate; otherwise, I won’t be able to come to work today. I hope my brother gets better soon especially when Mom’s alone to look after him while everyone else is either at work or in school. *sigh*

Added on 10 December 2012 (1627H): My mother just sent me an SMS, telling me that she decided to bring my brother to the hospital this afternoon. He had rashes all over his body, and is suspected for having dengue fever. :(

Added on 10 December 2012 (2027H): I received a call from Mom saying that my brother’s blood test results were positive for dengue fever. They didn’t have to perform the tourniquet test on him because rashes were all over his arms and back—one of the common symptoms of dengue fever.

It’s a good thing, however, that the Revised Dengue Clinical Management Guidelines of the Department of Health includes a new way of identifying whether one does have dengue fever. The integration of Dengue NS1 Antigen Test or Dengue IgM Antibody Test was expected to support any other laboratory test results.

Say, in the case of my brother whose body temperature has not lowered in 48 hours. In this phase, his platelet count is expected to drop; however, to the doctor’s surprise, my brother’s CBC results remain normal. Had the revised guidelines not been implemented, they would have sent him home and rule out these symptoms of dengue fever.

So I’ve been on semi-hiatus for what-felt-like-forever. Yes, it felt like living a day a month in the life of an astronaut. (You know what they say about astronauts and wanting space. You’re smart if you got this inside joke.) Things have been a bit rough; a few bumps here and there, but I am finding myself getting back on track. God sure knows how to shake me up!

Anyway, what have I been up to in the last couple of weeks, you may ask? Well, I had myself semi-disconnected to the world. By this, I mean I’m around, but not quite. Got that? No? Let’s just say I kind of slightly went a different path in my usual daily routine. Incidentally, I had my phone serviced the day after my birthday, thus making me detached from most social networking sites. Funny, I don’t miss it all. Well, except writing/blogging, of course. That’s already a given.

This was my last tweet on 07 Nov 2012.

I took advantage of this by doing things that are deemed more sensible. Instead of back-reading tweets, I started reading books again. I think it’s the most I’ve read since June. I even got myself into reviewing the ones I’ve read. Perhaps you want to check them out here. I have to thank two of my cheerleaders, Micah and Nica, for influencing—and encouraging—me to do these things more often. I really appreciate it, kids!

To add fun to dysfunctional, I had myself engaged to a new workout program/routine. My parents (as well as most relatives and friends) have been coaxing me to quit losing any more weight for they find me a bit too scrawny nowadays, but whatever. I just want to try new things out, okay? There’s not much to worry about, really. Relax.

Okay, now onto the more sensible serious part of this entry. A time away from all the craziness happening around me made me appreciate even the most insignificant things that I’ve been missing. I needed this time-out to clear my head and re-assess my priorities without the help of neither my family nor friends. Basically, I found a good excuse to reflect on life in general. It made me focus on the stuff that actually matter rather than dwell on the negativity that’s been lurking around me lately. There are things that I need to work on like choosing my battles wisely, avoid stressing out on the littlest of things, and many more. So, did it work? I guess it did in a way I cannot even really point my finger at. I just know it did. Perhaps I need to do this more often. You know, a little clutter-cleaning every now and then. It feels refreshing and sort of liberating in the same manner.

Just like the moon, people go through phases in life. I guess it’s time to start anew, and learn to live in the moment because I’m too busy to care about what other people might say.

Today I realized that there are only 42 days left before Christmas and that we are six weeks away from welcoming another year. Incidentally, tomorrow marks my father’s first anniversary with his current employer. Unbelievable, isn’t it? Days went by just like that; it feels like only yesterday.

Source: alessilikesit.tumblr.com

As Christmas Day draws nearer, one cannot miss the growing anticipation towards the best holiday of the year. Well, at least for me. Although it’s only mid-November, you can already feel what they call the December breeze in most days. It’s also been a practice to put up our Christmas tree and all other decorations on my birthday, but the boys were only able to do these last weekend. It now feels a lot like Christmas at home.

I do have a soft spot for anything Christmas-related. I mean, who doesn’t? The mere thought of this particular holiday brings me nothing but beautiful memories. Despite losing my favorite grandfather a few weeks before this special occasion in 2007, it did not change my perception of a Merry Christmas; not even when we recently lost my other grandfather in May. To this day, I feel overwhelmed with all the Christmas decorations around me. It never fails to awaken that sleeping kid in me when I see a well-lit city with all these beautiful Christmas lights. The sight of it just takes my breath away. Although I knew what the real deal about Santa Claus earlier in my childhood years, it did not really dampen my belief in the possibility of his existence.

Through the years, I’ve noticed that there’s something about the Christmas season, making most people loving and compassionate. No, I’m not talking solely about the gift-giving bit. Everyone appears to be more good-hearted and delicate. It feels very much like the cliché, Christmas is the season of giving and forgiving. If one is going through tough times, the festivities may even uplift his spirits. Well, I guess it depends on what situation one is currently in, but you catch my drift. In one way or another, the positive energy attached to the holiday season will bring faith in any hopeless case.

Unless you’re an epitome of The Grinch, then you won’t know exactly what I mean.

The title of this post is a line from the song, Christmas Lights by Coldplay.
This post is a response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt on 13 Nov 2012.

30-DAY BLOGGING CHALLENGE
DAY 30: A MOTTO OR PHILOSOPHY

I perceive life’s adversities as mathematical problems. Yes, I’m using these as my inspiration for today’s theme. I don’t know if anyone else has compared their afflictions with mathematics, but I came to this realization from a recent upshot I had to deal with. I won’t get into the details of my misfortune, but I will try to explain [to the best of my ability] why I think this analogy is legit.

Earning an academic degree in engineering meant that I practically breathed and fed on arithmetic a quarter of my existence (that is as of writing, of course); however, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what I’m really trying to say.

My father was hands-on in anything related to my studies, most especially if it involved mathematics. He would always say that in any complicated mathematical problem, its solution is not limited to one. Just like in life. Our troubles may seem infinite—that the list remains endless—but ways to resolve these are deemed incessant, too. In other words, they are directly proportional. You see, the analogy here is actually simple: there may be one too many ways to solve a problem, but it will arrive to only one answer.

If only most people who are experiencing hardships in life would find this metaphor logical, this world would be a better place. People won’t need to gain something from another person’s loss. Perhaps crime rates will drop to zero percent or war will just be a word in the dictionary. I don’t know. It won’t hurt to dream of these things, right?

•••

And that’s a wrap, folks! Wow, a month went by just like that.
I am happy to have completed this 30-day Blogging Challenge because not only did I share a part of my life, I also introduced you to the people I love the most.

To the friends I have gained through this experience, I humbly express my gratitude.
Shameless plug: I hope you continue visiting my blog like you always have. *winks*

30-DAY BLOGGING CHALLENGE
DAY 29: HOPES, DREAMS AND PLANS YOU HAVE FOR THE NEXT 365 DAYS

I cannot begin to imagine that as of today, the 365-day countdown to our Big Day is getting closer. To give you a brief background, Miggy and I got engaged in October 2011. Due to circumstances we had no control of, we agreed to have a long engagement. If I may add, Miggy had to return to the US because of work, thus I will have to do all future communication and personal meetings with potential suppliers myself.

The Big Three

A month since our engagement, we decided to set our wedding day and placed our reservation in the church where the ceremony will be held. We thought we got enough time, so we put most of our wedding preparations off for a while. We were taking down notes, researching online on potential suppliers in between, but we did not really get into these things until we hit the a-year-and-a-half mark.

In August of this year, Miggy and I finally decided to book our reception venue. It was a very tough decision to make since having a hotel wedding reception will consume most of our budget, but the advantages of having an all-in hotel package prevailed.

The recently concluded wedding of my friends led us into setting up a personal meeting with our photographers (and videographers). They were responsible for my friends’ engagement photoshoot and full wedding coverage. Although we find their services a bit expensive, we found their works impressive.

Project 365

In a few weeks, Miggy will be discharged from the US Army. Along with his younger brother, he will drive all the way from Texas to California to bring all his stuff home. Once he’s settled in, he will fly to Manila for an eight-or-so-week-long vacation. Well, aside from the leisure bit, we intend to get more wedding-related stuff done while he’s in town. Looking at our recently updated to-do’s list, we are so going to be busy the moment he sets foot in Manila. It should be a good thing!

If at all possible, we would like to get most of major suppliers sorted out while he’s here because I really find it difficult to decide on my own. Besides, I really want to involve my fiancé on these things even if he doesn’t understand them; it makes him feel that I value his opinions. One of our main agendas is to attend a Discovery Weekend, like a couple’s retreat, highly recommended by our officiating priest and friends. We feel we need to undergo this seminar in order to understand each other more, especially now that we’re getting ready for our Big Day.

When we’ve accomplished a lot during Miggy’s stay, this will allow me to focus on other minor things when he returns to the US in February. Perhaps he will take a few units in school or get a temporary job while we wait for the next time he’ll fly to Manila a couple of months before our wedding day. Speaking of job, Miggy has been thinking of getting into a specific affiliation (I am not allowed to divulge the details here) since he decided to end his career in the military. I hope he gets into it when everything’s stable and in order.

We are not having an elaborate wedding. We intend to have a very intimate ceremony with only a few family and friends to witness as we exchange our wedding vows. I could wish for stress-free days as we prepare for our Big Day, but that would be superficial. I guess all we’re hoping for is a successful wedding and an even more successful marriage in the near future.

P.S. Take it easy on the rotation, Mother Earth. We are so not in a haste! K, thanks. Bye.

30-DAY BLOGGING CHALLENGE
DAY 28: A SCAR YOU HAVE AND ITS STORY

When I checked the topic for today’s challenge, I couldn’t help but sing a line or two from Papa Roach’s Scars:

But the scars remind us that the past is real
I tear my heart open just to feel

Okay, I know it’s disgustingly cheesy, so I won’t go any further on that note. I’m just annoying myself. Anyway, seriously, I’ve had minor scars—wounds I got from falling off a bicycle or from playing strenuous sports during my childhood years. Most of them can no longer be seen nor traced today. There is, however, one particular scar in my body that remains visible [at least to me] to this day. I will try to recount that day on this post the best way I can.

It was a fine, Sunday noon in June 2002 when it all began. We were having our usual Sunday lunch at home when I complained about my aching tummy. Mom thought I was just hungry or I ate something the other night that cost me an upset stomach; however, I didn’t finish my plate. It’s very unusual of me to not consume my meal, since my parents don’t approve of leftover food, so they thought there could be something else. In effect, my father ordered me to go to my room and lay down to rest.

Perhaps because of fatigue brought about by lack of food, I fell asleep in an instant. Later in the day, however, I woke up screaming to unbearable pain in my abdomen. One of my brothers who came to my aid, instructed me to lift my leg and bend it as if to try to bring my knee to my chest. I tried to do as told and failed. My mother, who saw this, came to the theory that I may be suffering from appendicitis. On this note, they tried to lift me from bed, and rushed me to the hospital.

Every single movement I made was an effort. If I were asked the intensity of pain between the scale of one to ten, I’d give it a 15. The trip to Makati Medical Center was agonizing. I had to lay down in the backseat and endure the pain induced by a moving vehicle. Not to mention that we’re having an emergency. It took us less than 30 minutes to get to the hospital, and I was immediately accommodated in the emergency room by the staff. My mother was asked to fill up a form with my personal details including medical family history. There were several nurses and resident physicians who attended to my care, all of which came to the conclusion that it was, indeed, appendicitis.

I was given oral analgesics to somehow relieve the pain, and eventually put an IV on me. A few hours later, I woke up already in my private room. A medical technologist was there, about to extract blood samples from me for monitoring. Mom was asking me how I feel when the doctor and two of his practitioners walked in. Apparently, the big guy was my surgeon. He was there to check up on me, and explain to my mother what’s about to happen next. I wasn’t hallucinating nor exaggerating when I thought he was Hagrid from the Harry Potter series.

The entire procedure took hours. I even woke up in the middle of the operation! I saw the clock, it was two in the afternoon, and they were listening to A Horse With No Name by America. Groggily, I tried to lift my fingers. I couldn’t feel anything. I was numb to the core. Oh, my God, I thought to myself. Then I got knocked out again. The next thing I know, I was already in the recovery room. It was about five o’clock. My initially reaction was to look for my Mom. For some reason, I felt emotional and I needed to find comfort in the arms of my mother. 

Today, ten years later, the scar remains visible. It’s an inch and a half long, but it doesn’t really bother me. I don’t even find it ugly at all. It’s a constant reminder of something I never imagined of experiencing. It’s now a memory from a not-so-distant past. So, this is the story of my scar. I wonder what’s yours.

Hi.

I heard you lost in your game today. It’s okay. Don’t beat yourself up because it wasn’t your fault. You know how it is in any competition—there can never be two winners. Well, in a basketball game, that is. No, your father won’t take it against you. He will understand. How do I know? I just do.

Practice. Practice some more. You know what they say about practicing.

Need a break? Go ahead. Take a breather. I know it’s crazy.

So what if you got the lowest score in your Mathematics test the other day? Did you not excel in your extemporaneous speech on Friday? Tell you what—I failed one too many times in college. Not convinced? Believe it. I spent six years in Engineering when I should have graduated in five. It’s tough, but I earned my diploma eventually. It’s a wonderful, wonderful feeling.

It’s okay. You can’t be the master of everything, anyway.

I found out that your girlfriend dumped you. Well, what do I say? Would you have done it yourself? I don’t think so. I know what it’s like to be left hanging.

It was ugly. Hurtful, even.

You’re still young. You have all the time in the world. Who knows, you will bump into your soul mate when you least expect it. When you do, cherish her. Treat her the way you want your mother or sister to be treated. For now, relax. Don’t find love for it will find you.

Why am I telling you these? Because I care. I’ve been there, done that. I want you to know that these failures don’t mean the end of the road. They are detours that lead you to something more beautiful. You just have to wait.

Don’t dwell on these negative thoughts because they will consume you before you even know it. Feed only on the good things that are happening around you. Smile often, laugh more.

Change the way you think.

Appreciate. Be grateful.

No one expects you to be the best. It’s enough that you become the best version of yourself.

When all else fails, pray.

Most importantly, I wish you better days.

—JRJM © 2012

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