to visit or not to visit?

I really find myself weird and sometimes, I think it’s good to ask why I am like this.

My mother has been texting me this morning while she is still in the hospital which is a clear manifestation of her being bum. She’s also been joking a lot, which makes me think maybe she will be crazy after all.

However, her boredom usually also signals her longing for a visitor. Since my dad has been at the church all morning, she has no one with her except the television.

One of the girls’ grandmother and my sister is at the hospital at the very moment. My brother wants to visit her sometime as well, although I doubt if he would be able to since he has long days at school. My youngest brother misses his mommy and whines that he visit her as well but since he has exams this week, I don’t think we can afford to make him get out of the house.

And I? The best word to describe it is “kebs”. Don’t get me wrong now. It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just that it’s isn’t so necessary. It’s not like my mother is dying already. I guess I’m pretty satisfied to know she’s in a normal condition and do the things I have to do here at home.

Yes, I know. I can be so detached. I may be like my dad who worries but I’d rather worry alone and isolated. It’s weird and sometimes I hate myself for being such.

Luke 10: 38 – 41 describe a family in Bethany when Jesus came to visit them. While Mary listened to the words of the Lord, her sister, Martha, opted to do the household chores and eventually ended up complaining because of all her worries about unimportant yet rational details.

This passage always reminds me of who I am. Even if Martha was the bad one when the story is told to grade school kids, my mother had still taken my name from this passage. What we all find quite amazing is that I am very much like this Biblical character.

Maybe this sort of detachment isn’t anything to do with how my parents raised me. Maybe it’s more of my concern for other details while my mother is away. Maybe I can still be describe as the bad one in the family but it doesn’t mean I don’t really care; a sort of irony probably. At some point, it disturbs me but what can I do? This is how I am, although at times I try harder. Or best yet, maybe we should kill the Martha to whom my mother got my name. Haha. Parents, be careful of what you name your children. :D

side effects of surgery

While the Filipinos are busy reacting on Mrs. Arroyo's State of the Nation Address (SONA) and despite that I was watching it at home with the slightest feeling of boredom, my mind was off somewhere else.

My mother just had a hysterectomy this morning, a surgical procedure removing the uterus. Although my mom looks ten years younger than her age, this wasn't really a surprise for us. We just saw a menopausal episode of her friend earlier this year and we knew it would be coming to her soon. My dad seems extremely worried and I'd have to admit, I am more concerned with my dad than with my mom.

She has been visiting her doctor for some time now and the doctor would also usually talk to my dad, especially when the option of hysterectomy came up. Since an important part of the woman's body is to be removed, there will be changes with her hormone levels which also meant changes with her mood.

Now, I have to say this. My mom has very obvious mood swings when she has her period, which is not different from the ones her daughters experience like extreme depression (and liters of tears), easily irritated, sudden outburst aggravated by almost anything and the list goes on.

I guess my dad is very worried on how extreme unreasonable she could be and this could affect almost everyone, her family, the people in the church, the children of our preschool & their mothers. and god, there's even one kid who's an extreme brat.

However, her other doctor also told her that she was already medicated with some hormone medicines which meant the side effect of her surgery will most likely be similar to what she is now. Let me tell you, my mother has been extremely happy these past few weeks.

So now, I'm torn. I don't know which one to believe, my dad or the other doctor. At some point, I want to deny the idea that it could be worse but logically speaking, I have not heard of a hormonal imbalance story that turned out positively. yeah, yeah, me and my over concern for details. But then, I still have to prepare myself if it gets worse.

Now I'm thinking. I am no fan of my mom's mood swings and ever since I graduated, I would usually opt to either keep quiet or stay away when my mom bursts. Maybe this time, I can no longer escape that. Since she might explode at anyone, anytime, I feel like I have to be there even more, to mediate or worse, do the things she's suppose to do so that others won't be prone to her outburst.

details, details. Sometimes God reprimands me of my overly concern with details since it puts Him out of the picture. My mom works full time at the church and if this surgery will negatively affect how she relates to other people, I think it's a crap if God doesn't think of all these. He will never put things to worse (Jer. 29:11).

Then again, I'm just plainly worried.

what happened next

The next few episode of that first job interview were really quite interesting.

By the time I got home Friday afternoon, I was actually almost decided that I will never return to that office for a job again. (hyberbole here, please note :D ) However, it was a dilemma as to how I would tell my supposed editor about it. Without any idea what exactly to say, I delayed telling him until I was suppose to be at the office.

Actually, I got no courage to tell him. When my parents arrived Saturday afternoon, I asked my dad to help me compose the most appropriate message to send my "editor" only to realize, I was only in fact in need of moral support. After sending him a thank-you-but-I'm-not-going-to-take-the-job text message, I left my phone at home and headed to the park for a volleyball game with some of my church friends.

Around ten in the evening, I received a response from him. He told me to pray about it and think about being even a researcher for the paper. I thought, since he mentioned something about praying, it was the best time to explain to him that this isn't actually the job God was referring. And this is what he texted me next: "You do not need to wait for manna to come down from heaven. You should labour, work and find it, find it hard."

Now, I've had to admit, I found the message quite amusing in a sense. But instead of making an issue out of it, I reiterated my point that I've prayed about it and I'm backing out.

This is what he told me next: "You are backing out from blessing. I don't get it. There are millions of unemployed Filipinos. I consider my job as blessing. Even Paul work hard and did not rely on offerings."

With that message, I almost flipped. I have no intentions to question whether his job is a blessing or not but the idea that I'm going to be really overworked and underpaid in that company doesn't make it a blessing for me. There will be great experiences for me, I'm sure but the expenses cannot compensate the burden.

At the same time, the manna delivered everyday for the Israelites was not a simple compensation from God. He was the One who brought them out of Egypt despite their contentment of their conditions. God had promised them of a better life, and although the journey for that was not easy, He showed each day that they do not have to work very hard as to have doubts that God was not providing for them. God will always be with them even in the wilderness.

Paul worked hard for God's ministries. His job as a tent maker was a simple detail of the very great mission he had for the Lord. It coincided with God's plans. It should not be taken out of context.

Of course, I could not tell me editor that. I think it would be very disrespectful of me still. Whether it were a form of manipulation or simply sincere, I dare not question. I opted not to reply.

I prayed once more that night and that was when I heard this song.

Sing to me the song of the stars
of Your galaxy, dancing and laughing
and laughing again
When it feels my dreams so far
Sing to me of the plans
that You have for me over again

The best thing that happened to me, I realized I was an Israelite journeying through the wilderness and God has and will be providing me the manna that I needed.

my first job interview

I received a text yesterday morning asking me if I could come by their office for a job interview. Although the text message had the name of the one who sent it, I absolutely had no idea what company it was or what position I was supposedly applying for.

Well you see, my former bible study leader had referred the person to me. I had my share of doubts before I actually sent my resume. The only thing I knew about this was that this is a new broadsheet and they were looking for business reporters.

If my dad was given the power and the choice, he would have opted me to become a business reporter. I think he believes this beat is safer and offers bigger wages than a reporter interested in politics.

Anyway, I decided to come for that interview. I called the guy who texted me and as it turns out, the name of the paper is Philippine Gazette, a new broadsheet to come out next week. They have nothing to do with the former Philippine Gazette paper and they are in desperate need of writers. Their office was to be found at Port Area, Manila.

I went in their office, which is basically a newly renovated but not yet finished structure beside Manila Standard Today office. The guy introduced me to his boss. They looked at my resume and asked me to do a sort of rewriting the lead as an exam.

This exam turns out to be lifted from the Associated Press (AP) stylebook that describes very loaded leads. What was quite weird is that they expected me to rewrite these leads exactly how the book rewrote it. True enough, AP is AP and it has been an international standard when it comes to news writing but to expect an specific type of answer omits the idea of a writer's own style. Then again, who am I to complain?

I talked with the big boss of the newspaper once more. As it turns out, I was applying as a contributor and therefore my pay would be based on my published articles but here's the catch. I am obliged to be in their office seven times a week. I'd be in training for a few weeks as a researcher and web content organizer. It will be only after sometime that they'll decide if I can be trained for the Senate beat. After a few more reminders and stuff, they wanted me to start this afternoon.

I honestly don't mind the low pay, as long as I don't find myself spending more than what I would be getting. I'd rather write for a newspaper, like how I first intended when I took up journalism than getting a good pay in advertising.

At the same time, working as a researcher and being in training for the Senate beat sounds too ideal. I know for myself that's what I wanted to hear but I never imagined myself working seven times a week. And with an undetermined pay, I feel like I was going to be harassed!

I left the office with an uneasy feeling, as if I was getting sick, as if my knees were getting weak and my lungs are having a hard time doing its job to help me breathe. I never thought of working somewhere at Port Area. I had the image that most newspapers which are based there as tabloids (although not all of them are). As I was waiting to get a ride, I am reminded of Weng who is working for a development company in Ortigas. She's a writer working for the night shift. She has a really big pay and gets free food most of the time. If she can get a job like that, why can't I?

I was on the LRT on my way home and I felt like I literally wanted to cry. This is the same feeling I get every time I feel like there's something wrong and I can't exactly point out what is. I guess it's one of God's ways of making me realize what I'm getting myself in. It's a disturbing and depressing feeling. I never want to go back to that office again.

another story unfolded in front me

yet another story unfolded in front of me. actually, i did not want to have anything to do with it. as i would usually say, i'd rather appreciate it from a distance. the more i be with people, the more it makes realize the details and lessons of my own life.

we never really got along very well. i find him very obnoxious at times, especially his political views. he does very irritating jokes that i couldn't really find funny. plus, he even described talking to me as if he was talking to a 27-year-old adult, six years older than his age. we won't talk as much as he would with other people. there are only two things we'd actually talk about, politics and other people.

she's three years older than me, got a good job, and has good sense of humor but can be quite a grouch because that's what her profession calls for. we don't talk much actually but we do get along very well. i know a lot about her life, the same thing goes for her but we never actually confirm these things to each other.

what unfolded in these six months was something beyond crossing cultural communities.

he would talk to me about it quite more often than he would with my kuya. i guess it must have something to do with the points of view and the perspectives i get from the weird people around me. he'd sometimes ask me what i think about what my parents think. i would usually tell him he's concerned with too much details, the very same lines i would hear from God last year as He tells me to let go and go with His flow.

i'd see her worry as i had been last year. i mean, who could blame her for feeling lost and depressed in such a situation. but then, god has a plan. he's not playing game with people's emotions.

it feels weird actually to have a story like unfold in front me, as if the story were telling me something beyond my eyes can see, as if God Himself is talking to me in the complicated situation that He had led me.

ten again, we all have our own worries. But who are we to question what God unfolds in us? If there was something I got from all these, it a form of reaffirmation, of control and at the same time a tinge of hope that God has His own ways and what He is about to do will never be boring. it's an episode that we must all wait with anticipation, with hopes that in His proper time, we will all have our own share in life.