Jandrea...so far

It was where I sought refuge from the boundaries in my boxed-in world It was where I could examine my failures and disappointments before I released them into nothingness It was where my tears could flow in copious amounts but leave me smiling in the aftermath It was where I allowed my spirit to soar, even to sin, without fear of reprisal It was where God always forgave me even if I thought I should not forgive myself It was where my soul was nourished, year after year, so I could be who I am!  Covid-19 has stolen my haven! Tagaytay, please wait for me...

 Found an old piano piece of mine! Judging by my handwriting on the piece, I must have been in elementary then! I tried playing it again and brought back memories of struggling with my piano lessons. Now I know why I gave up on my dream of being a concert pianist someday! Haha!  But thanks to my first piano teacher at age 6, Sr. Cecile Belen, SFIC and my long suffering piano teacher until high school, Ms. Tessie Serrano, I can at least learn pieces on my own and play music that I like ! And that really, really warms my heart!

It’s funny but more sad that I spent most of yesterday crying over someone that I really liked back in college. It wasn’t one of those unrequited loves where the person knew about my feelings but couldn’t reciprocate them. It was more of a restless feeling that befuddled my brain and created stirrings in my heart for while. It was a you’re-always-in-my thoughts and can’t-wait-to-see-and-talk-to-you state of mind. It was what a 19-year-old would label as a serious crush that could have future possibilities!  It was a quiet secret, not to be shared with anyone. It was just being happily content in his company and reveling in the care and thoughtfulness that he showed to everyone (not just me!). It was a I-think-he-likes-me-too-but-maybe-he’s-with-someone-else hopelessness! That scenario would define the last of my college and teen years.  So when I had to leave for reasons beyond my control, I chose to just keep that feeling inside of me. I believed that there was a chance to se...

I must have been 10 or 11 when I nurtured visions of myself playing on a stage of a large concert hall. But that dream was not to be. After studying piano for maybe 14 years, I realized the only audience I would end up impressing with my playing would be... no one. Not even myself! Today, those thoughts were confirmed while struggling with a piano piece that I have studying. After a few years, I still can't get it right. Drat and a double drat! Anything "artistic" that only some can aspire to do, I have at least learned how to do at some point in my life. I can play the piano, guitar, and marimba. I sang with a choir for some years, even earning a chance to be soloist at least once. I have acted in and even directed plays, performing in many corners of the country. I even used to paint a little and when inspiration moves me, still try to draw. Dance lessons were part of my summer repertoire. I've even written poems and articles which had received some recognit...

Image from a FB friend When I first set my eyes on Vigan, it was though I was still in a dream. Still groggy with sleep after an all-night land trip, I found myself as if transported to another time. In the awakening light and the clip-clopping of the horses on the cobblestone street, the first thoughts that came to my mind was, "Oh my, I could run into Rizal's Crisostomo Ibarra in these streets!" A little dramatic but what can you expect from a then college student with a student theater group visiting the place for performances in schools in that area. I was of course wrong about running into fictional characters but I was certainly not disappointed about encountering ghosts from the past. We were billeted in a hotel which was a renovated mansion from an earlier century, just what you would expect in a place like this. The girls were given a big room which helped us imagine that we were friends of Maria Clara after a party. In the early morning, I woke up with th...

               Some years ago, my siblings and I created what we would imagine could be the titles to our mother's life story if it were to be filmed. 1.  LIFE SUCKS! 2.  Luluha Ako ng Dugo 3.  Balang Araw, Mararamdaman Nyo Rin 4.  The Many A ngst of D 5.  Survivor of Own Torments 6.  I Live to Grieve 7.  Why Me, Lord? 8.  I'm Happy Being Unhappy      The titles were borne out  of our frustration with having to deal with a mother who was to my mind pathologically unhappy.  It all sounds really irreverent but humor was one way my siblings and I faced what was a pretty regular situation in our family.   It was the weapon we used to prevent our spirits from being weighed down too much. It took quite an effort (at least, for me) to soar away from the doldrums because unhappiness can be quite contagious. To this day, I wonder why none ...

In 2003, I submitted the following piece to the Phil. Daily Inquirer's contest for readers to write about new Christmas family traditions. Proud to say, this won first prize! (P20,000 worth of gift certificates redeemable at all Rustan's establishments.) I like reading it just before Christmas so that I am reminded of the true meaning of the holidays! This the original, unedited version,  prior to publication in the Christmas issue of the broadsheet.     "Rudolp the red nose reindeer,  Had a bery shiny nose  Olop, the oder reindeer  Use to lap and call him names…” The holidays in my childhood used to be signaled by such Christmas carols sung by the neighborhood kids outside our door. Whenever I would hear the first notes, it was as if a light inside me would be switched on. It was a time of anticipation of greater things to come! But as my world became a little less innocent, I began to hear their off-key strains of song. The musical notes wou...

2011 Commissioning of members of the Ministry of Lectors & Commentators Holy Family Parish      After wearing a white blouse and and a black skirt almost every Sunday for mass the last 25 years or so, I couldn't find anything suitable in my closet this morning when I could wear something else aside from my lector's uniform.  I was on leave from the ministry in order to attend to other concerns. I realized I had no appropriate Sunday wear. In my closet were only "teachery" stuff. Only week-end gear. I wonder what that says about me? That I am no fashion plate? That I am just being practical by not buying stuff that I wouldn't actually get to use often? Or that my Sunday duties have been so ingrained in my life that it was the only thing that I really cared to dress up for?        Hmmmm... all wrong on the fashion angle! But so right on lectoring being a vital part of my life. It all begun in 1985 when I applied to bec...

Tree in the Academic Oval For the last 17 years, I've been having a affair... with teaching... at UP. Being a teacher at UP has always made me feel like I'm in a forbidden romance. Many days, I  feel giddy just being here but for an equal amount of days, I feel unworthy to be part of such an illustrious institution.  As an undergraduate student,  I was in awe of my professors. There they were, up in the star-decked sky and I could only marvel at their brilliance from my place among the riffraff of the academic world. Although I grew up helping my teacher mother with her preparations for class,  entering the academe was never part of my plan on how to conquer the world. I admit, once in a while, I did imagine myself in front of the classroom but never actually believed I could do it in real life. It was like having a secret crush on that gentle-looking hunk in the library but knowing it would remain just that because he was someone else's boyfriend. And even i...

Thanks to my sister, Ling, for the very beautiful bouquet of flowers.  Love you, sis!   I think I was born a mother.  You're right, I didn't say I was born to BE a mother but was BORN a mother. Let me explain. I'm the eldest of 3 children. In the Philippines, there's a long list of duties in the job decription for eldest children. In summary, an "Ate" or "Kuya" is tasked and expected to be another parent to their younger siblings. While this position entails serious responsibility, it also grants some power and privilege to a child merely by way of his birth position. So even  as a child, being constantly reminded by the elders, I took my role pretty seriously.  As far as I can remember, my parents willingly shared adult duties with me, expecting me not only to help with the kids but also with household management even at a young age. My siblings didn't seem to have any problem following my lead. I didn't mind mothering them because they r...

Story #1: Nancy Drew   I was addicted to the Nancy Drew stories when I was in Grade school. It was my obsession to read all of the books in this collection. Not being able to afford to buy them, I would just wait for my aunt to give them to me as pasalubong from  the US or I would borrow them from my 2nd cousin, Gelene, who had, it seemed to me then, all the titles listed in the back of every volume.       Not only did I want to read every Nancy Drew adventure ever published, I also wanted to read them as fast as I could every time I got hold of one. So that when I was in the middle of one and it was lights out time,  I would continue reading under the kulambo using a flashlight.      DId I get to read all of the Nancy Drew books? Nah, adolescence got in the way. I was introduced to other reading fare. And they became my next obsession. (See Story #3) Story #2: "Ghost Story"      My aunt who used t...

Piano Recital at Ensemble Hall, SJC Saturday, October 29, 2005 I must have been 10 or 11 when I nurtured visions of myself playing on a stage of a large concert hall. But that dream was not to be. After studying piano for maybe 14 years, I realized the only audience I would end up impressing with my playing would be... no one. Not even myself! Today, those thoughts were confirmed while struggling with a piano piece that I have studying. After a few years, I still can't get it right. Drat and a double drat! Anything "artistic" that only some can aspire to do, I have at least learned how to do at some point in my life. I can play the piano, guitar, and marimba. I sang with a choir for some years, even earning a chance to be soloist at least once. I have acted in and even directed plays, performing in many corners of the country. I even used to paint a little and when inspiration moves me, still try to draw. Dance lessons were part of my summer repertoi...

THE MOMENT Eyes closed, recapturing the moment When life-long love was promised With hearts pounding, the clammy hands of two When oneness was honored In laces and froth and the bubbles of youth. Orchids and pink and green beauties Hymns to awe, prayers of hope The duet of sighs and breathy voices The tinkle of glasses and laughter Cues for shy kisses And glorious expectations. Recapturing is naught Only the here and now speaks In loud, sometimes shrill tones Of faded denims and favorite t-shirts torn Of belts and straps holding up much, much more. Behind the darkening shadows of these eyes Are tears shed… and unshed Beyond the reaches of these arms Are Cherished ones who had to leave. And dreams we let go. But always, strung across our hearts Uncut gems of laughter Pearls glisten, elegant life lessons learned together We wear proud the wounds of our struggles And scars of triumphs and cheers. The moment has multiplied in measures untold The promis...

 10/23/2009 12:13 am                                                                 (Image from the FB album of Toinette Bernales) This is where, as a child, I discovered how it was to be in communion with the Spirit. Entering this place opened a way for me to be close to a Supreme being. I was in awe of Someone so much bigger than me yet the intimacy of the small place seemed to be an embrace from Him who loved me. Even then, I guess, solitude was something I sought. I found solace in the soft light and the simple beauty of the chapel.I remember now that I would take a few minutes each day to pray like a young girl would. I was so sure that He was always there to listen to me. The ch...

07/17/2007 04:34 pm You are of my generation and a certified Quezon City resident if you remember: 1. The Ysmael Steel robot on Espana Extension (now E. Rodriguez Ave.) which seemed to be 100 ft. tall. A joke went this way when I was in high school - "Gusto mo ng summer job? Malaki ang suweldo pero madali ang trabaho. Araw-araw, ipapasyal mo lang yong robot ng Ysmael Steel!" (Oh well, it was funny then!) 2. The Malt Shoppe on Timog Avenue. That was soft-serve vanilla ice cream in a blue paper bowl. You had a choice of different syrups and toppings. My favorite was caramel syrup with nuts! 3. The creek you could cross from the street behind our house to get to Sampaloc Ave. (now Tomas Morato Ave.) Once my yaya picked me up from school and we used this way as a shortcut to go home. I slipped and fell, getting all slimy and wet. Bistado ang yaya! Nagtitipid pala. We walked home when we should taken a ride home. 4. The original tiangge on Morato Avenue. I...

High school graduation picture  02/11/2007 05:28 pm It's fun! You never really outgrow it. You just sweep it behind a dusty curtain which you open surreptitiously when no one else is looking. You take a peek once in a while to reassure yourself that the teen-ager is still there. Deep inside this creature with a creased brow and unsightly bulges, is a young girl whose day is made with a special someone's smile! In place of the champion who is thinking of how to change the world is a flirt who would rather think if her change of hairstyle will get the boy to take a second look. Beneath the serious mien when deep in discussion with him is a giggly adolescent who is really thinking of how sexy his voice sounds when he says her name! Would I want to be 15 again? Maybe, with my 25 year-old dreams, my 35-year-old body, my 40 year-old spunk and my 50 year-old soul!