Dear Junie

Dear Junie
I miss you.
Why did you leave life too soon? 43 is ridiculously young---you are supposed to  live longer than all of us. You took such big bites of life---life itself overwhelmed you. For yourself, you did not think that  death was applicable too soon, so while you were busy taking a hold of life by the neck ---death crept up on you and pounded in one moment and snuffed the life out of you and silenced you...cold turkey.

Agghhhh...I know there is no turning back the hands of time but how can you be dead? How can Jun Bote be  enclosed in a casket all so cold and silent. Jun Bote is equivalent  to life, not death. Jun Bote is equivalent  to  laughter and guffaws, not deafening silence. June Bote is equivalent to  exploration, not idleness. Jun Bote is  equivalent to  bursts of songs  and  funny dance strokes, not stillness.

Dear Junie,
I miss you.
My heart cringes when I think of the last time I saw you---cold and unresponsive lying so deathly silent in the casket as though sleeping in quiet repose. Your  body was hard solid---your ears felt like  woodcarving---your plump cheeks were like rocks, clammy and unyielding. Only your hair  stayed the same.
I kissed your face---you were  lying there "sleeping" in the midst of  us all . How can a room that contains  you be silent? As you looked like  you were in  deep slumber, your countenance in repose commanded attention like it used to be  when you were so full of  life.
I cried, I cried a flood for you and what  you must have gone through that tragic moment.  What went through your  mind  as your car flew off the bridge?
My heart aches  for losing you my brother. This pain lurks in my heart every single day that I wake up to. It's been three months since the accident and my stubborn heart refuses to acknowledge the truth---as though it is still hoping this death story   is someone else's from far away and not yours---and if it is, my heart whispers, "hush...hush...it's just a bad dream."

Who am I to say "you're not supposed to die this young!" I know in my heart our days  are numbered by God as His Word  says so. May the Lord  forgive me that I should think  you've a hand  to your  early demise. I miss you...my heart  aches for you...I am hurt and disappointed in you that you lived life  hurriedly and  left too soon.

Junie, wherever you are right now, I pray that your soul is at peace  with the Lord. I pray that your soul is at rest and know that you lived  life  fully, your way.

I cannot seem to reach the bottom of this  grief. I have a nagging pain in my heart that simply lurks  inside. But life must move  on. I will resume  my life as a mother to Zach, a wife to Steve, a teacher to my students, but never as a big sister, ever again. I will resume my life  with a gaping hole in my heart and always flinch at the thought of  my young brother dead and physically gone forever.This thought shakes me to the core, because this means  I will never hear him laugh again, or talk, or sneeze or tell a funny joke. I will never hear  him sing  with his eyes close or harmonize during our family meal prayer song. I will never hear him talk about God, or propose yet another business venture (that I always  refused to go into). This means I will never see him walk in and out, or dance his funny dance strokes. This means I will never ever feel anxious for  him and his adventures and living life on the edge. This means I will never ever have to continue hoping my big hopes and  dreaming my big dreams and  wishing my best wishes for him ever again. I miss him dearly.

Little did I know that five days after my last entry (Sept. 14) my kid brother would die from a vehicular accident. It's more than two months since it happened and my heart is aching just like when I first heard of the tragic news. At this point there is a big disconnect between my heart and mind. My mind tells me, matter of fact that Junjun  died, but my heart still struggles to accept it.  My heart and mind are not together these days...processing this event in my life is a slow and painful grind.

September. 18, 2012 (about 12:20 noontime in the US...that's Sept. 19...12:20 after midnight in the Phil.)
I was in the car with my family (Steve driving) headed to Long Beach NY, coming from the Poconos...about this time I was looking out the car window...feeling sleepy...while in the Philippines, Junjun's car careened and  fell off just at the foot of the bridge 15 feet down below. How did I not feel anything at that moment? He was my brother...

One short sleepe past,
Wee wake eternally
And death shall be nor more
Death, thou shalt die.
               ---John Donne

When I got home that afternoon, the phone rung and my sister Ellen was at the other end uttering my name  3 times with such a frantic tone. I knew something was bad, so I went to the room in private. She said, "Pong....Pong...Pong....(one of my many nicknames at home)....Junjun is gone."
A black wall immdeiately kept my brain from accepting a horrible news and in denial I just said,
 "He's gone, where to?"
Then she said, "He's had an accident and he's gone."

I gasped for breath. Like someone pulled  my heart out of my chest.
My husband heard the name Jun and my gasping for  breath....and tears started streaming down his cheeks.

And my heart said, "Remember Job.. worship the Lord  for He is sovereign."


September 20
JFK airport waiting to board the plane.
Jun-jun DIED.                             Junjun DIED?
My little brother passed away.
What strange words.
I have to go home to say, "GOODBYE."
I mean, "SO LONG." and "SEE YOU LATER."
43 short years.
He was bigger than life.
So soon.
Yes, I dreaded this happening---I mean the DEATH--- but it happened too soo.
He wasn't careful.
He loved his family deeply, but he wasn't careful...for their sake.
He knew how to enjoy life.
Junjun DIED.
I have to write those words over again---to see the words because  my heart says they are not true.
My kid brother, SO FULL OF LIFE,
bursting with hopes and dreams... striving, always striving to do well in life...
he PASSED AWAY. It is all so SURREAL.
Junjun DIED.
I have to stare at the words to let them sink in.
He was funny in many ways.
He can send my mom in stitches with his antics.
He had this  funny butt dance  that gave my mom belly ache and tears laughing.
Oh, he went too soon.
Age 63 would have been ok----but 43?
Preposterous!

AIRBORNE:

With a family so young, he left too early.

I am not questioning God, for I believe  He is sovereign and in control. Nothing escapes His  eyes.

I am just trying to make a sense of my personal loss.

But I was looking forward to having get togethers  with my siblings when we get  older.

Now it's minus 1. Minus Junie.
The funny one is GONE.
Where is he now?
Where is his soul roaming now?
Is he watching his family in grief?
That must give him a heartache too.
Is he afraid? I pray not.
May the heart of his soul be at peace .
May the Spirit of God guide him in this.....his journey.

He was gallant. And magnanious. Always generous.
Always hospitable and again generous to a fault.

He was a dreamer.
He always did things to bring him towards  those  dreams.
He dove into endeavors head on---and not toes first.
He was carefree, not conservative in  these endeavors.
He lived big---he lived  in the moment  and for the moment  even if tomorrow  was not promising.
He laughed lots, but he gave lots  of incessant laughterS.

He was  Councilor of Lupon.
Full of kutzpah. And adventure.  And boldness.
Now the Sangguniang Bayan of Lupon  will not be as fun as when Jun was there.
His High School reunions will not be as fun as they used to, when he attended  them.

He was the center from which guffaws, laughter and giggles  emanate.

He had aspirations  of being a mayor in Lupon...like my Dad once was.
Given time, he could be one  if he goes for it. But now he is DEAD.

Life has gone out of his body. So young.  So soon.  At 43.
He was adventurous. He loved to have fun. He was a risktaker.

Now I'm going home to the Philippines to say goodbye.
Junjun DIED. Junjun is DEAD.
What a strange thought.
Maybe I should say  to soften each new blow everytime it comes to mind...
Junie has gone home.
Junie has gone home ahead of all of us.

He left with a bang. His car flew off the side of the bridge. What an exit!
Never a dull moment even to the last minute of his life.

He was passionate  about novelty  of just about anything---
ideas, endeavors, business, people big or small.

Sometimes, I cannot help but think that he somehow helped himself to this sudden demise.
I am disappointed with him. Maybe I am mad with him because he drove fast...in the dark...after midnight.
He was not careful.

He was so full of life. My heart refuses to believe that he is now gone.
This world is too big---I feel that he  is just in another part of this planet   where I am not.
He is not dead---NOT in my heart---
He is alive  somewhere, only I cannot speak to him anymore....or hang out,,,
My mind tells me, "But you held him, cold and hard as a rock...unresponsive...without breath.
DEAD.
I close my eyes and think of him...I can see his face laughing, I can hear his laughter.
I can see him dancing, I follow with my eyes the funny moves he makes to make us laugh.
I can see him sit and talk, and  know so well how his lips uttered words, or
 know so well when his eye lids flip close a second and how his eyeballs move this side or that side.
He is alive in my heart.

NOw, how are we to tell Nanay?

This news will kill her. JUnjun is the reason why Nanay has stayed so long after her stroke. Although she is paralyzed and so helplessly trapped in her body---she is on a mission. "To watch  my children." She really means, just not admitting, that she is being there for Junjun. She hopes and dreams for his dreams to come true and for his  many endeavors to be successful. She wants to see him financially set, and not striving so hard. She's been so supportive of Junjun eversince.

He was the  apple of her eye. How are we going to let her know that Junjun is DEAD?
Must we  omit the word tragic from the incident? Like it was just a plain accident---crashed the car and died?
Never mind the words, his car was totalled and he got crumpled  inside.
Never mind telling that the car veered off at the side of the bridge and flew up and went crashing down.
T'was just an ordinary accident? And he died.
No, NOT "He died."
"Junie has gone home to be with the Lord."

I have not slept for two nights since I found out that  Junjun DIED---how can I ? Everytime I close my eyes, the darkness closes in upon me with  visions of Junjun's  car flying  off the bridge and crashing---did he die instantly?
Speculations and questions....
Memories and visions of him swirl in my head.
I cannot breathe.
I cannot stay still.
Maybe it's just a joke---a really bad joke.

Junie had so many cares in  his life but he never buckled  down.
When Nanay had the major stroke, followed with many eschemic ones....at that same time his  radio stations were shut down for  some violation found triggered by his radio announcers  involving themselves  in negative political comments not supported by the  radio management itself---and YET again  that sametime Edna, his wife was very much pregnant and was found to be  carrying a  baby with major abnormalities (some organs are missing). My heart went out to him and I watched him. He simply stood his ground, kept quiet, sighed away...and thought and thought  and thought. I knew he prayed fervently in his heart.
I never saw him breakdown. Just his eyes were thoughtful and sad.
But he kept on going.
I never saw a weakness in his character regarding all the  issues that barraged his life...so unkindly... at that point....
He managed himself well.

Junie is  always flying to and from  Davao/Manila. He  always took  pictures of himself seated in the plane, then he posted them on facebook.
He must be  on his way to Manila now, midnight on my watch (NY time as I am airborne). Noontime in Manila.
Yes, Junie must be  flying on his way  to Manila by now, not seated as he always did travelling, but lying  down...
below...in the plane's belly...as a CARGO. Junie in the plane as a  mereCARGO.

HOMECOMINGS  from faraway lands are supposed to be joyous!!!
Not so this time.
My pain stems from the thought that Junjun could have lived 30 or 40  years more with his beautiful family. He loved them so.
He would never let go of them  whatever circumstances arise.
He loved his wife Edna---he adored his kids. He was so proud of his family, he talked  about them with a twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his face. He talked about his kids with such parental  pride in his  heart.

Sometimes my heart plays a trick on me. It tells me this whole thing is just an experience--and when all this is over, Jun can resume his life.

After reading bedtime stories (yes stories...one book of Zach's choice, three stories from the Bible and  a page from his devotional book, and sometimes a bonus story from the Bible that he must read aloud himself) and a prayer, Steve called me to take my turn shift putting Zachary to sleep. Steve mentioned that he will wait for me at the back. When I finally heard heavy breathing, I snuck out of the room, not necessarily quietly and went out back. (Zach sleeps like a log)

Steve out back is happily esconced with the capiz lights on low contemplating the night, and I guess the occasional stupid  roar of the behemoth AC on top of the neighboring restaurant. Here he is in his solitude waiting for me.

I promptly joined him but not without stopping by the kitchen and getting myself a half slice of a papaya. Hmmm...really sweet and juicy.

---in the Philippines, papayas are a regular part of the priests and soon to be priests' diet in seminaries because it is said to help control the libido.  I wonder how effective it is.

Sunday morning..a beautiful day after yesterday's wind and rain...

We walk to the beach before we prepare to go to church.

We gathered our leftover bread to feed the birds.

We can't bring enough for these birds.

 We chase them away after all the bread is eaten.

But they stay awhile just in case there is more.

Two to five-thirty this afternoon was all mine. The boys had a play date at Atlantic Beach. Zach gets to play with son and Steve  plays (guitar) with the father. Two birds with one stone. So I swept, and laundered and straightened up the place. Picked some basil and tomatoes for tonight's pasta. Sat down with my Bible and devotional book and  had some quiet time with God. After that I sat, and sat in different spots in the house, always looking out the window. Today's weather is windy and (patchy) rainy. (This afternoon, a tornado actually touched down on Breezy Point. Really? Here in New York?)  I love looking at rain through the window. I love looking at trees and their leaves dancing with the wind, through the window. I love looking through windows. Period.

I watched the shadows of leaves dancing with the wind in the afternoon sun

I sat at the kitchen and looked through the French door. I listened to the windchimes play.

tomatoes come in trickles now

I love   to watch the grapevine climb up the fence by my bedroom window. When the soft afternoon sun hits the vine, the leaves turn chartreuse and the leaves' stems get redder.

sitting across the  living room window lets me see my potted fig trees, my neighbor's terrace across the street, and people passing by

The plan was to grill these, but laziness got the better of us, we agreed to fry them instead. Steve's not crazy about the squid so I made for him fried tandoori chicken which he loves. The squid is best eaten with a dip made of lemon, soy sauce and chili and plain rice. Funny how  upon coming to America I find out people love fried calamari but not squid. They only know that calamari are circles of fried crispy food. When  they see how calamari really look like, tentacles and all before they are sliced, they freak out.

I love squid...I love every part of it.

tandoori chicken

Do you ever get a monster craving for food you haven't eaten for some while now? I know you do, and what do you do about it? Run to the nearest restaurant that cooks it?  Or do you cook them yourself?

This morning, my friend Onds called to ask if she could  come with two other friends to hang out, do some karaoke (she will bring her own), and cook some Filipino food she craves (particularly tortang talong and  bulad---that's roasted eggplant fried with eggs and fried dried fish). I acquiesced of course and then she called again to say  that our friends have a previous commitment and therefore the impromptu plan is called off. So I went about doing what I was doing before she called...laundry. No worries. Life moves on. Zach was waiting for me to bring him to the beach, so we agreed to go after the laundry. While the machine was spinning, facebook content was boring and quite stale so I logged out and  started cooking to satisfy THE CravingS of my taste buds. Not long after, I got carried away and made a feast for myself.

Yes, making a feast for one's self is quite fun, and actually most satisfying. You know exactly what you want and how you want it cooked.  There's no one to please but yourself.

So here's a record of the momentary insanity that happened in my kitchen this morning.

escargot to whet the appetite
(when I was a little girl, golden escargots, we call gold kuhol were in season when the rice stalks were green and kneehigh. My Dad would cook them in ginger and coconut milk. The shells were individually cracked  where the point is and you either sucked the  flesh out or pry it with a pin)

anchovies

squash (tops) leaves ala pinakbet
(My mom loves to eat these  squash tops and squash flowers cooked in either ginger and anchovy paste or ginger and coconut milk.  This is a rare commodity here so every time I see this in the Chinese market (which is very rarely), I pounce!

(leftover crabs from last night)

bitter gourd (ampalaya) salad
bitter, but delicious

smoked boneless milkfish (tinapang bangus) which must be eaten with tomato and shrimp paste 

the MEAL

I've lived with just one mirror for years until my eldest sister came to visit and  commented how our home has no mirror at all (she means a big or full length mirror). The only mirror we had was that of the bathroom's which was the  medicine cabinet's mirror that allows you to see your reflection from the  chest and up. For her sake, I got a full length one that I attached at the back of our bathroom door. That was not enough, she also suggested that I get a mirror to put on a small space over the kitchen sink. She said that if I should be doing chores in the kitchen, and the doorbell rings, I could first take a look at myself in the mirror before answering the door. That really amused me. Actually, she is a girly-girl, and before she goes out to the world she  makes sure she is all put together. I am exactly the opposite. I can actually jump out of the shower, dress up and go wherever without combing my hair. I always say that by the time I get to where I am going, my very straight fine hair will have dried and hanging in its place.

At this point in my life, I am the owner of five big mirrors (excluding the one already hanging in the batroom door)h. Two, I picked up from the streets which I  stationed in the garden, another two vintage mirrors I  bought from the flea market (pictured below), and one from  Big Lots.

I don't spend a lot of time looking at them...but they do help make our little house look  a little bigger.

Soon I will be painting these vintage mirrors white, thus the tape around the frames

forgive the mismatched jammies

these fans are now in exile at the Poconos. Steve once threatened to cut their wires off as the  encasement  are not safe for  wandering  (little) hands.  They have actually caught two big hands from two different people leaving a nick on each.  But these fans are adorable and they work so well in spite of their age.

Depression Cookie Jars...these have a few chips that's why I got them for a really good bargain

My Zachy and I

I asked my little one to take a picture of me and my sunflower. He's getting pretty good with centering his subject. I thought I was going to get a gigantic sunflower, I guess I planted the wrong seed.

here's my little photographer

He is my blessing from God

he is my miracle

my sidekick....always

He is Isaac too---my laughter....and I thank God for him.

Of Shawlettes and Hand Towels

She loves to knit and make things with her hands. She makes hats for big and little heads, socks and slippers for cold feet,and  shawls and shawlettes for sisters and friends. Down below is what my sister Jenny gave me. A beautiful shawlette that I cannot wait to use. The color is autumn and the design is simply intricate. She actually has a pile of them already made waiting to be wrapped and gifted for Christmas time. Pray you're one of the lucky ones to receive her shawl. And oh, she uses NO cheap material for these.

Isn't this shawlette soooo beautiful?

When she gets tired of  knitting intricately designed shawls and shawlettes, she takes a break from them and she knits these beautiful hand towels using different designs. Again she asked me to take some, and I picked two. She said to pick more and so I got five. 

They are so beautiful, I don't think I can bear to use these.

Now down below is a stepping stone in my garden, which Jenny also made years back. She has a bunch in her own garden with different flowers on them. I remember when the both of us used to live in New Jersey and she first got into making these garden stepping stones, I could hear the whizzing of the machine at 5:00 in the morning!

 Look! she's started a new blue shawlette. That is mine too. It is my order and I insist on paying for it. The material is silky and expensive and the design I chose is delicate. Can't wait to have it.

You will NEVER find her hands idle....Jenny is always making beautiful things!!!

THANKS JENNY!!!!!