All Souls' Day

Yesterday, my mom and I attended a special prayer service by our local parish at the cemetery where my grandfather was buried. I had made this bouquet of mum flowers the day prior. I picked the orange ones from our garden and placed them in this cornucopia-shaped basket which I got from the recent Fall Festival.

His first death anniversary will be this December. He had died from stroke, not Mesothelioma cancer. But it would be a year this November that he had that stroke that sent him to the hospital for three weeks until his death.

At this other cemetery where a family friend was buried, I noticed some unusual grave markers. Instead of tombstones, there were these marble benches with the name of their dearly departed engraved on the front, then a meaningful saying on the back, like this one. The message hit home for me, so I took a picture.

Sunny With A Chance Of Pink

Yesterday, I wore these sneakers with pink shoelaces to the 9th Annual St. Clare's Breast Cancer Awareness Walk. I first joined this fundraising event last year.

My team, PNA-NJ of Morris, a group of Filipino nurses and their kids, raised around $1,500 in donations this year. We walked in memory of one of our dear nurse-friend's mother, Lola Elena, who passed away due to breast cancer.

We had a team mascot, this huge black dog which also wore a pink shirt. His (yes, it's a "he") name is Wookie.

This other team's ballerina dog stole the show, though. She's TUTU cute!

There was a big guy with a bright pink sombrero on. I suddenly remembered I had a pink hat from Antipolo City and regretted not wearing it that day.

This bear is ready to party with pink!

  "America runs on Dunkin'." That day, America, or at least New Jersey, walked on pink Dunkin' donuts.

Pink balloons! This team's table was overflowing with goodies. They even gave away loot bags filled with health stuff like pain tablets, fiber, toothbrushes, and condoms. Not sure if they had biotin supplements, too. No wonder, the team was led by a female doctor.

Somewhere along the 5K walk around the Rockaway Townsquare Mall complex, I spotted this mom and baby clad in pink. I immediately thought of my niece. Next year, she would be big enough to join the walk.

Cheer like an Eagle! These girls kept us walking on.

The weather was perfectly sunny. We did have to endure an autumn chill early that morning, though. The walking did help to break a good sweat by the end of the walk.

We were considering other names for our team next year. We were debating between "Team Bagel," "Team Turon" and "Team Pancit!" Haha.

9/11, 9 Years Later

My friends and I visited the Ground Zero Memorial in downtown Manhattan last July.

It's hard to believe it's been nine years since the tragedy occurred.

My sister and I were fortunate enough to have climbed the top of the World Trade Center just three years prior to that incident. It was our first trip to the United States, too. Life was simpler back then. People weren't hooked yet on gadgets prefixed by "i", much less iPhone 4 accessories.

There's a heavy shroud around your heart while staring at these badges which once belonged to the first responders who lost their lives on that infamous day.

May this nightmare never befall any nation ever again.

But The Flesh Is Weak

My grandfather passed away in the afternoon of Dec. 6th at the hospital where he was bedridden for three weeks due to his stroke. We, along with some family friends, surrounded him until he breathed his very last. He was 81. He was laid to rest on Dec. 12th at the cemetery across the lake where he used to walk with my grandmother.

Here is the eulogy I wrote for his funeral service. It's my third one in only two years...I hope I don't have to write another one anytime soon.

Good morning, dear friends. Today we gather to celebrate the life of Alfredo Morales Arboleda-- a loving husband, father, uncle, grandfather, and friend. To his peers, his nickname was "Pedong." To those near and dear to him, he was "Tatay" (Tagalog for father).

He was born on May 28, 1928 in the province of Capiz in the Philippines. He was enchanted by my grandmother Elvira's choir-singing voice. They got married and were blessed with seven children, one of whom unfortunately passed away at a young age.

My grandfather will humbly tell you that he only finished elementary, and if he had a resume, you won't see a BA or a BSN or a PhD or a JD. Instead, you'll read a "J.O.A.T."--Jack of All Trades. Add a very positive attitude and a pair of hardworking hands, he's done almost everything just to support his family, to make ends meet. He's been a farmer, fisherman, driver, mechanic, just to name a few.

In 1997, he migrated to the US with my grandmother to join his two daughters in New Jersey. His being a senior citizen even then didn't stop him from working. He worked for a short time at Wendy's with my father. He became our resident handyman for all things that needed fixing. His magic touch made broken things work again. His latest freelancing job was as a tailor : from pants to the most challenging alteration job from one of his avid customers--that of slimming down t-shirts. Imagine that! It seemed like he was doing it more to help you look good with your clothes rather than for the meager fee he charges you for it. And it made sense, because he knew how to look good in any given occasion.

But I think his most favorite occupation was being a grandfather. He loved taking care of his grandkids no matter what. And whatever he had, he was very generous with us.

He embraced life, his smile was radiant, he had a good-natured humor, oh how he loved to eat, he was everyone's Tatay. In 2004, he pledged allegiance to the US flag.

He was a fighter. He's the most compliant patient you'll ever know. However, his final three weeks on this planet must have seemed more like three decades for him. During that time, my sister & I played the role of "para-nurse"--if there is such a term--as we took turns watching him along with our mom and Aunt Dannette.

You've probably heard of this phrase: "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." The Bible says that. And we saw it with our very own eyes. But even as the nurses wrote on their charts that he was no longer following commands, we reached out to him in our native dialect, Ilonggo, and he responded with all the body language he could muster from his fragile strength....he was still there for us.

And how thankful we are as his family for the people who kept us & Tatay company during that difficult time, for the family and friends here and abroad who offered their prayers for Tatay and for the nurses who went above and beyond in making sure Tatay was as comfortable as possible. Thank you to the health care professionals who took care of Tatay and saw him not just as a bed number in CCU or PCU or a specimen on one of their exam tables, but as a human being, perhaps even as their own father or grandfather.

That experience taught us that Love is a powerful potion that needs no prescription. This was a test of faith--the kind that taught us to accept God's will with all our hearts.

It was my grandfather who encouraged my mom to become a nurse. He told my mom, "I want you to be a nurse, so that when I grow old, you'll take care of me." And my mom fulfilled that promise, until his very last breath.

Tatay, now that you're on that special bus bound for heaven, we hope you stop by your most favorite destination on Earth--Atlantic City. And don't forget to drop by the Philippines to visit your family and friends who couldn't be here with us today, especially your other children, namely: Auntie Dilyn, Uncle Dougie, Uncle Danny, Uncle Donald and Auntie Zenaida. Please take with you all the happy memories of your life and the love and respect of all those you've ever known. You are the "jackpot" of our existence.

Finally, I would like to send him off in our native tongue: Salamat gid Tatay sa tanan-tanan. Mamingaw kami sa imo kag palangga ka gid namon. Indi ka namon malipatan. Malipayon nga Paskwa sa imo dira sa langit.

(Thank you very much, Tatay for everything. We'll miss you and we love you very much. We'll never forget you. Merry Christmas to you there in Heaven.)

Eat, Pray, Love For All Souls

We paid respects to a family friend buried in a nearby cemetery yesterday. We plucked mums from our backyard to decorate her tombstone. Remembering the dead here in the States isn't as hectic as it is in the Philippines. The cemeteries look the same as in any other ordinary day. People are forbidden to light candles on the graves for fire safety issues.

A tradition my family observes is cooking home-made specialties as an offering to departed family members. Usually it's pancit paired with some Filipino pastry. We then take a small portion of the dishes made, put in on a plate, then arrange a table setting and make-shift altar for the souls, with lit candles and flowers. The belief is that they would come visit our home on All Soul's Day and would "partake" of the food, or at least, its "essence."

I had made (Filipino-style) spaghetti for my Nana, because it was her specialty that I had grown up loving, and my mom had made puto, or rice cake. My Nana has never known about whole grain pasta, but that's what I used for the noodles, as well as regular semolina pasta--cooked separately, of course.

Last year, just after my Nana had passed away, I slept in the basement by myself, only two doors away from the garage floor. I left the lamp light at this computer on as my night light, then tried to sleep in the couch. Not long thereafter, the lamp light turned off by itself. The basement went dark. My heart skipped a beat. I stood up to inspect the lamp and saw that it was still very much plugged in. The only reason it could have turned off was that someone switched it off. I reached for the switch to turn it back on....then decided to sleep somewhere else that night, so I switched it off.

This month would mark the first year death anniversary of my Nana. In some of my deeds, I try to be her, therefore part of her still lives on.

Hello, Kitty...Goodbye

On 9/9/09, at around 1AM, my cat Siomai had a kitten.

She had been acting extra whiny and agitated the night before, and while I was at the computer in the basement, I spied drops of blood on the floor where she had walked. I knew then that it was "time". I placed her in this box so I can help her with her labor pains, massaging her belly as she was silently writhing about, shuddering in slow motion. I saw a piece of red, fleshy matter sticking out of her and thought it was her kitten.

And then, I heard a tiny, shrill kitten voice from underneath the couch--a place I had already suspected that Siomai had been scouting a few weeks prior as a potential birthplace. Turned out she had already given birth and was actually trying to flush out her placenta. I was a...cat grandma!

I frantically tried to reach behind the couch so I can rescue the kitten and was secretly cursing Siomai for choosing such an obscure place to have her baby. It was so tiny, I couldn't reach it. Siomai was also responding to her baby's cries as she tried to see what I was doing and was figuring out how she can squeeze into the small space she had entered before.

Thankfully, her maternal instincts took over and she scooped her baby by the neck with her mouth, looking for an alternative nest. I carried them both to an empty room and placed them in a box so they can bond. The kitten's mouth was constantly open, as if waiting for milk to nourish it. Siomai, the first-time mom, seemed clueless as to how to feed it. I kept placing the baby's face onto one of her nipples to help with the breastfeeding, but Siomai kept moving about. It seemed she didn't know what to do, until the tiny black furball got tired and slept face-down. I went to sleep.

When I woke up, I peeked into the box to check the kitten. It was no longer there. I saw it on the opposite corner of the room, right on the carpet, with Siomai huddled over it. It was no longer moving. I held it and carried it back to the box, but was nervous when I didn't detect any movement or reaction. The body was still soft, but it was definitely lifeless. Its mouth was wide open, as if paralyzed in that final cry. Was it hunger that killed it? I doubt that Siomai was able to breastfeed her kitten. Did Siomai accidentally crush it underneath her weight?

I was a cat grandma for only a few hours. I had no choice but to dig up a little grave on the edge of our backyard, sad at the kitten's short life here on earth. Her fur which was still wet last night, had already dried and revealed specks of white on her hind legs that made it look grey.

Back in the house, Siomai was meowing like crazy, obviously looking for her offspring. She didn't know that her firstborn had gone off to the Rainbow Bridge that morning. She kept following me around, thinking I was hiding her baby somewhere and that I would show it to her.

Poor kitty...all nine lives used up at once.

People Power Postcard

My home country, the Philippines, recently lost its first female president--in fact, the first ever female president in Asia. President Corazon Aquino was a widow, a plain "housewife," who brought democracy back to the Philippines by defeating a dictator through peaceful means, by launching the historic People Power Revolution in EDSA back in 1986. The color of change was yellow, which became Aquino's trademark color.

This postcard shows a diorama (miniature clay figures) display of said historic event--when people took to the streets and convinced the soldiers to lay down their arms and join them in ousting former President Ferdinand Marcos, who had placed the country under martial law.

The caption on the back reads, "On 22 February 1986, Filipinos gathered at EDSA to begin the four day People Power phenomena. It installed the first woman President of the Philippines, Corazon C. Aquino."

I bought this postcard many years ago as a souvenir from the Ayala Museum in Makati City, Philippines where "The Diorama Experience" can be seen. Coincidentally, President Aquino passed away in Makati City.

Filipinos around the world mourn her passing, and thousands paid their last respects to the most humble leader the Philippines has ever seen. My friends and I had met on Tuesday in Manhattan where we signed the condolence book for Mrs. Aquino at the Philippine Consulate on 5th Avenue.

Her timeless portrait as Time Magazine's "Woman of the Year" in 1986.

There are two separate books to sign...one is for the general public and the other is for diplomats. This one shows a dedication by a member of the Holy See mission.

Yellow Was Anything But Mellow

I was just a kid when People Power happened. There was no internet or netbooks or iPhones at the time. My father and uncle, though, were able to take part in that historic event by going to Camp Crame. I've seen their other photos, but have only managed to find this one in our old photo boxes.

My father had scribbled at the back that this was taken on February 23, 1986 at Camp Crame. I didn't understand what was going on at the time, but I remembered how the dominant color then was yellow. It didn't mean cowardice as is the current connotation of said color, but it meant power to change through peaceful means. And that was made possible by former Philippine President Cory Aquino and her powerful faith in God. Here was a lady who made history, who spoke softly but refused to carry a big stick....instead she carried a rosary.

What a great loss it is for Filipinos around the world when she passed away on August 1st. Actually, it was Friday afternoon, East Coast time, when we heard the sad news. I wore yellow all day Saturday (yesterday) to commemorate her, while attending two different parties. But that's a different story.

The angels are welcoming you in heaven with a million yellow ribbons, Tita Cory. Thank you for being our damsel of democracy!

I Wasn't Imagining Things

The American flag at the mall which I saw on that Monday immediately following Michael Jackson's death was really flying at half mast. Now, they don't do that unless it's Memorial Day, Veterans Day or the 9/11 Anniversary.

Michael Jackson is an American hero--nay, a king--whose loss is being mourned by the whole world, and today, his memorial at the Staples Center in Los Angeles will be a big farewell event.

Rock in peace, Michael. Or rather, moonwalk in peace.

Faithful "Departures"

I want to see this Academy Award-winning Foreign Language film, "Departures." It strikes a chord (literally). Not just because of all the death.

As if Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett's untimely demise wasn't enough, Sunday jolts us with news that the Oxiclean Guy, Billy Mays, died in Florida at the age of 50. I was subconsciously annoyed by his voice and bearded face whenever his infomercials came on TV. Now I'm just sorry.

Mourning Girl

So VH1 and MTV have been airing the late Michael Jackson's hit music videos as a tribute all weekend. Watching the seminal "Thriller," "We are the World" and "Billie Jean," among many others, just inspires awe at the musical genius behind such songs. My personal favorite as far as music videos are concerned is "Black or White" because of the international palette it had. You can imagine yourself in that video at the end with the morphing head shots of different indviduals.

I remembered a pal in California whom I haven't heard from in a while. I know her as being particularly fond of all things retro, especially the 80's. I sensed that she might be disturbed by MJ's death, so I texted her. (Conversation posted in original SMS format, hence the shortcut spellings.)

Me: Has it sunk in to you yet that MJ is now moonwalking in heaven?
Her: Im still in mourning. Dang stil cnt beliv hs gone.
Me: And to thnk that he felt dprived of love dspite d fame n 4tune. he was also misundrst0od. he must have died dpressed. and dats dpressing.
Her: My dream 2 watch him live di na pwede. (can no longer be)

Gone Too Soon

It would seem insensitive of me not to blog about the Late King of Pop.

Every TV channel is broadcasting Michael Jackson tributes and stories 24/7 since the shocking news aired that one can't help but be depressed. This is one artist who has touched the lives of people around the world for decades, with songs that crossed borders, covered a million times by other artists, and didn't care if you were "Black or White."

Writer Jessica Zafra even wrote a column about Michael Jackson two days before his death, and went online only hours before the tragic news. Eerie.

Well, here's one unique tribute by a group of inmates in Cebu, Philippines, known as the "Dancing Inmates," who became a Youtube sensation with their "Thriller" performance. Don't tell me you haven't seen that! If not, watch it here! I'm curious as to who their choreographer is! They must have some very talented jail wardens out there!

Here's their poignant tribute to Michael Jackson, featuring his songs from the Jackson Five, and somehow, they still managed to incorporate his trademark "Thriller" moves, but this time, in a sadder beat.

The angels will be moonwalking with you in heaven, Michael. Thank you for the music!

mourning for "the man from manila"

on march 6th, the philippines lost a very important entertainment icon: francis magalona. he was 44.

he was known as "the king of pinoy rap" (and deservingly so) for having emerged into the mainstream with his innovative rap music with lyrics that promoted patriotism, for being proud of one's filipino heritage and brown skin ("bilib ako sa kulay ko, ako ay pilipino"--from the song "mga kababayan" or "my countrymen").

but he was so much more than that. he was a loving husband, a father, an actor, a director, a photographer, an artist, an entrepreneur, an MTV asia VJ, and a good friend to many in his chosen industry. for many filipinos who grew up with his thought-provoking songs (and not just the rap ones), the news of his death is too surreal to accept as true.

he lost his "happy battle" to leukemia, but he never lost an iota of faith or optimism during his final moments, as he himself documented in his blog. the "master rapper" is survived by his wife pia and their 8 children.

thank you for the memories, for letting us look into your "kaleidoscope world." the "three stars and the sun" are a little dimmer at this time because of your passing....but it's people like you that made it possible for them to shine brighter than ever.

your life, though cut short, was very well-lived, an inspiration to many. you will be dearly missed. you'll live eternally in our hearts through your music. you gave our country a soundtrack to be proud of.

may you rest in peace, mr. francis M...you're the man! [1964-2009.]

[originally posted at "postcards from " ]

i'm coming home to say thank you, i love you and goodbye

the last time i saw her was march of this year when i went on vacation to the philippines.

she was her usual spiffy self in a shirt with studs in the shape of a ribbon which she proudly wore because it was a gift from her daughter working in taiwan. despite her old age, she braved commuting by herself from her home in taguig where she took care of her two naughty little grandsons (her daughter's children, my cousins) all the way to where i stayed with my aunt in san mateo, rizal. she was excited to see me, and i readily gave her the gifts i brought from the states. we were always generous with her because she had taken care of me and my sister when we were kids while my parents were away in the middle east for long periods of time.

she was my mom's aunt. she was our other grandmother whom we fondly called "nana." she was there in the kitchen whipping up our meals and made sure we ate them, drank our vitamin syrups (which made our pee smell like syrup), and had our afternoon naps. that's her in the photo above happily feeding my sister while i happily smiled at the camera.

i learned to love home-made spaghetti and menudo because of her cooking. her food became synonymous with being "home." she kept a watchful eye on me to make sure i didn't play in the mud outside or scraped my knee.

her favorite drink was coca-cola. she called it "coks." she was the first to volunteer to buy a liter bottle to complement our lunch or merienda. we joked that she drank the soda like water.

she always liked to dress up and wear makeup even when she only had to go to market to buy vegetables or fish. her lipsticked mouth was ready to smile when picture opportunities came. she loved to pose for pictures, and knew just how to do it!

she was born in capiz on march 27, 1928 as the eldest among four siblings. she had finished a secretarial course in iloilo and had her first job in the then newly opened ministry of labor. she traveled to polomolok, south cotabato on invitation by relatives and it was there where she met her husband who drove for dole pineapple farms. she had three children, one of whom died as an infant.

her husband later turned out to be the philandering kind--a woman from work had seduced him until their affair bore an illegitimate fruit. outraged, my nana confronted her husband and made him choose between her and the other woman. the husband chose the latter, and they separated ways. my nana fled back to capiz with her children in tow, heart devastated, and received support payments from his estranged husband until he had a new child of his own to mind.

years later, my nana went to manila and lived with my parents in a tiny apartment in pasig. we were only toddlers when my mother flew to qatar to work as a nurse. she entrusted us to nana, who lovingly cared for us in every way a grandmother could, and more. the money she got for taking care of us was what she used to help her daughter earn a teaching degree.

when we grew older, she enjoyed being on family trips to the beach, pilgrimages to pangasinan's our lady of manaoag. she's never been on a plane, and has never been to her dream destination: baguio city.

when her daughter had a family of her own, she found her hands with new toddlers to take care of, while her original wards migrated to new jersey.

when i passed a major exam a few years ago, she had mailed a simple letter congratulating me and enclosed a cut-out of a newspaper page where my name appeared on the list. she scribbled on the margin that i should thank and pray to st. vincent, her favorite saint "for all problems." whenever she could, she would send birthday cards to us and always wrote sweet messages which she ended with God's blessing and a request not to forget her.

i never realized that the birthday party i threw for her in march at a swimming resort in san mateo, rizal would be her last. she had a cute little tanktop on, and i smiled at her youthful sense of fashion. she was 80.

she had fallen ill and her body went weaker and thinner. i don't want to destroy the image i have of her by divulging the details of her passing. it pains me to write this, but i want to preserve the life she selflessly lived by creating this in her memory.

my mother, sister, grandmother (my nana's sister), and i will fly to the philippines this sunday to pay our last respects. if all goes as planned, i will accompany my grandmother to mindanao to visit her remaining sibling, my lolo kaloy whom i've never met, because of his inability to attend the funeral services in manila.

my heart grieves for your passing, nana. may your soul find eternal rest in heaven in the company of your beloved son. i owe my childhood to you. i'm coming home to say thank you, i love you and goodbye...you will always be my nana.


milagrosa valla alvarez
[march 27, 1928-november 19, 2008]

"Death ends a life, not a relationship."--Tuesdays with Morrie

heaven is your new garden, lola elena...

i just came back from a family friend's house. her mother, lola elena, who has been battling with cancer, succumbed to lung complications today at 12:07pm in the ICU. she was 75.

i didn't know that this day was going to be a day of mourning when i got up from bed. i hurriedly ate lunch as we were getting ready to visit lola elena in the hospital. my mom got to see her last night in the ICU and despite the tube obstructing her mouth, lola elena gave a thumbs-up sign when she was encouraged to keep on fighting. indeed, she was a fighter to the very end--struggling to breathe as the vent pumped air to her lungs. she had wanted to fly home to the philippines where she can be with relatives and numerous grandchildren. she wanted to be surrounded with loved ones during her final moments. but her body was weaker than her spirit.

we were about to leave the house when the phone rang--my mom received the awful news of her passing. lola elena was gone.

at that moment, my own grandmother had just entered the door, also wanting to visit lola elena in the hospital. but we were too late, and all we could do was shed tears of sorrow.

we still drove to the hospital to pay our respects. my aunt and i quietly entered the ICU room, and there she lay on her bed with her eyes closed, mouth half-open, as if she were only sleeping. i started sobbing then, and touched her limp yet cold hand--the same hands that lovingly tended her daughter's garden and made beautiful flowers grow. she was known for her green thumb. her enthusiasm and positive outlook in life showed in the healthy plants that she took care of.

in between my tears, i apologized out loud to her for not having visited her lately, lamented how she didn't make it to mother's day, and also thanked her for everything. my favorite memory of her would be when she happily uprooted some strands of her crawling purple flowers so i can plant some in our house. those flowers are blooming now. gardening was her passion...but her illness robbed her of that happiness. instead of watering cans and tulip bulbs, she had numerous medications to remember taking and chemotherapy to endure.

i accompanied her daughter, still (understandably) stressed from the tragedy, to look for an outfit for lola elena for her wake. she would burst into tears every now and then as we went through her closet, and i didn't know the right words to say to console her. all i could do was offer a genuinely sympathetic shoulder to cry on. lola elena's room was filled with religious articles, as she was also a prayerful woman. a statue of her home province's (antique) patron saint--san blas (saint blaise) stood on one of her drawer cabinets.

i then volunteered to go through their photo albums to assemble a mini photo display for the wake. i picked the ones where she smiled warmest, where she was with family in the philippines, and where she was in interesting travel destinations. i was told that her fervent travel wish was to go to europe and visit rome. she was able to do that a few years ago with her daughter's family.

i drew flowers around the pictures to commemorate her favorite hobby on earth. underneath her name, i wrote: "your memory is a precious flower that will forever bloom in our hearts."

may you rest in peace in your heavenly garden, lola elena. we will miss you very much.

gone too soon

this all souls' day, i honor the memory of two people who passed away very recently and very suddenly. both of them i went to school with, one was not only a classmate but also a dear friend.

arlene was the "baby" in our batch because she was younger by a year than the rest of us. she hailed from the province of isabela, and was always a funny companion yet no-nonsense when it was time to get serious. a very memorable trip i shared with her was in batangas many years ago, when we went swimming with other friends and even went on a boat to an island there called "sombrero." our final conversations were reduced to yahoo messenger [YM] chat sessions last year, checking on how each one was doing, how work was, when my "mr. right" will come along, and how she promised to prepare pasta for me when we see each other again in manila. her diet seemed to be more on the italian side, and i was intrigued about how her culinary creations tasted.

but then the shattering news came to me, via offline messages in YM from her sister and other friends, that she suffered a strange seizure and was hospitalized, and quite suddenly died. it was all shocking for me to absorb, and all i could do was pray for her soul and send her family a sympathy card.

so young, so full of promise, and now just a memory. you are dearly missed, arlene. i wish we had met again in manila one last time--pasta or no pasta.

jeff, on the other hand, was someone i knew as a "brod" from our sorority's partner fraternity. we spent some classes together, if i remember correctly. he came from a well-to-do family. he was a short, little guy who seemed carefree and always had a joke up his sleeve. well, i guess the jokes were really specially meant for another friend with whom he shares a "close friendship"...and later a professional partnership which abruptly ended before it even began because of his untimely demise. he was found lifeless in his own bedroom one evening. needless to say, we were all shocked by the news.

and so these souls are part of the list of the departed loved ones and friends i will light a candle and solemnly offer a prayer for tonight. only God knows why he took them from us this early in life. perhaps one of the reasons is to remind all of us who were left behind to cherish the people around us every single day of our lives and live it to the fullest...

may your souls find eternal rest in His divine presence, arlene and jeff.

see you at the rainbow bridge...

benji, our adopted cat of 2 years,went to kitty heaven last monday, november 27, 2006.

with heavy hearts and teary eyes, we took him to the vet to put him to sleep. his original appointment was on the day after thanksgiving, but we didn't have the heart to take him then.

however, his skin cancer had gotten too worse for him to bear. it was heartbreaking to see him suffer with his illness daily, so although it would hurt us, we knew it was time to release him from his pain.

i burst into tears as soon as he was moved to the vet's pet cage. my sister and i drove home crying.

he was thirteen years old. he will be dearly missed.

he was a tough cookie to the very end, but his body was visibly succumbing to the disease.

goodbye, benji....thank you for the furry moments.

today i lost a white askal named crazy, the last descendant of the late nan. he died of unknown reasons, but he simply lost the ability to eat and refused to take anything shoved into his mouth. we suspect that his esophagus or digestive tract must have been punctured by some sharp piece of chicken or fishbone.

he went to doggie heaven this morning. when my cousin buried him in the garden, i rushed to my room and cried. he's been with our household for more than a year. and now our house is silent because he is gone.

his name was originally crazytown, i named him after that band who sang that "butterfly" song. it's because when he was a puppy, his feet turned inwards, pretty much like the frequent hand gesture of the lead vocalist of the aforementioned band. he survived his four other siblings. but now he went on to join them and his mom.

he's this hyperactive kind of dog who barks at the slightest sound and sight of a stranger. he gets overexcited when he's being petted, so much so that he uncontrollably pees as a sign of happiness. he also likes to jump on people to show his affection.

my uncle called right after i texted another cousin about it. i was trying to muffle my sighs of sadness. he was trying to console me. he was offering their puppy as a replacement. he said that crazy was a good dog for having waited for me to graduate before he left me.

now i only have my three cats for pets.