A Photojournal of a Poconos Weekend

So I stand before my Poconos kitchen sink window and find the sun, rising, peeking through the bare woods. It looks like it's going to be a bright day. I've  mentioned in one of my entries before that beyond that hill lives a lady who is battling  lung cancer. I just found out yesterday that Helene passed away  last Christmas.  I only met her once when our neighbor who was her bestfriend tried to sell her floral couch to me. I obliged to take a look at it even if I knew I wasn't going to buy. The couch was too matronly for my taste. I never got to see her again. She was in our prayer list of sick people. She  never knew that. Death is such a sad affair. I hope she is happy where she is now.

So the sun shone brightly and cast beautiful shadows of the bare trees on the  snowy ground. I savor this scenery from my  dining baywindow. That jungle gym is Zach's although he rarely plays in it. It's just not fun with the absence of playmates  his size.

Promising blue skies. A crow cawing.  The trees though bare are beautiful. They have such strength to endure the cold of winter. They stand tall and proud and patiently await the coming of spring. I can sense them silently raring to bud and leaf out, and  they wait and wait and  wait...

I thought of God. He is faithful. His love keeps coming back...wooing, comforting me...like the trees that keep leafing out after the cold winter.

I watched the morning shadows and realized  there are animal tracks  all around the house. 

What critter is this that leaves tracks in a line? Shouldn't they come in pairs?

The animal tracks come in different sizes. The animals are looking for food. They are coming out of hibernation.

I snapped out of my (through the window) investigations and made myself Dalandan (Philippines citrus) juice. Every sip of this brings me back home to the Philippines and memories of eating the fruit itself.
I think a dalandan loaf cake is in order.

 Then I plan  and contemplate  what to do with  my mushrooms. There are  oysters and white and brown shijemi mushrooms. I would love these in  beef strogannoff but I do not have  cream or milk or sourcream.

and so when you do not have the desired ingredient in hand, you just resort to sauteeing with butter and garlic and sprinkling the dish with a little bit of soy sauce.And it does the trick. Mushrooms are soo forgiving and  delicious.

 And while I contemplate the mushrooms, I realize, it is February and  our  MR. Men themed Christmas tree is still up and smiling!!!

My eyes focus on my Christmas stocking. I miss my NANAY.  There is a story behind this cross-stitched stocking. That story will be for the next entry.

Dimples---that's my nickname at home. Funny thing I realize  though, my siblings call me the name without the  s. And  when they write the name down, they do so like this---Dimpol.  When people find out about my nickname, they automatically ask where my dimples are. I do have dimples on my face, only I have to be smiling, not laughing for them to show. Anyway, I hate  to have to smile to simply show my dimples, so I just say my dimples are on my buns so I can't show them off. ;-)

Zachary wanted to sing, so we went down to the basement and set up the Karaoke. I've joined the bazillion of Filipinos who own karaokes at home, although it took me about 4  years before I started using it. It is really a good tool to get Zachary to practice his reading. Currently his favorite song is El Shaddai.

I draw the curtains apart so I can look outside while I listen to Zachary sing.

 and oh..Here's the sauteed mushroom I made as a side dish to the  beef jerky. With brown rice,  this is lunch.

Before noontime, beautiful flurries started to float and twirl down, down to the white ground. Beautiful and sad. I miss Junie and I miss my Nanay.
I never thought I would ever grieve for two people at the same time. Quite disturbing really...also confusing...

"Deep grief sometimes is almost like a specific location,a coordinate on a map of time. When you are standing in that forest of sorrow, you cannot imagine that you could ever find your way to a better place. But if someone can assure  you that they themselves have stood in that same place, and now have moved on, sometimes, this will bring hope."
                                   ----Elizabeth Gilbert

I know...I'm not the first. People from generation to generation have gone through beraevements. And I will not be the last either. Death is nothing new. It is part of life. It's just  THAT part of  life that is  too painful. I first got acquainted with death in my early teen years when my Tatay (Dad) so  unexpectedly succumbed  to angina pectoris. I thought I would never get over the pain. It's been thirty-three years, and all those time, indeed healed the wound and hushed the pain in my very young heart. I am left with  beautiful memories of him.

"To weep is to make less  the depth of grief."
----William Shakespeare

So I listened to Zach sing his heart out, and I wept. Zach is getting used to my quiet weeping...before Feb 1 (when my Nanay passed away) he would ask me, "Are you crying because you miss Tito Budz?" Now he would ask me " Are you crying for Tito Budz or Nanay?"

I realize, my grieving sometimes is for losing my mother and kid brother...two beloved ones. Sometimes, the grieving is just for one, Other times, the grieving is for one, then for the other, alternately. I've a battered heart.

"It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest  hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a  window, or one notices that a  flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer...and everything collapses."
                                                                                                 ---Colette

"grief is a house where the chairs have forgotten how to hold us
the mirrors how to reflect us
the walls how to contain us
grief is a house that disappears each time someone knocks at the door or rings the bell
a house that blows into the air at the slightest gust
that buries itself in the ground while everyone is sleeping
grief is a house where no one can protect you
where the younger sister will grow older than the older one
where the doors no longer  let you in or  out."
                                                                      ---Jandy Nelson, The Sky is Everywhere

I zoomed in to take a shot of this tangled mess. It looks like my thoughts.Well, Spring is a month away.  Soon, these branches heavy with snow will grow  buds, and look fresh and  new. I hope my thoughts clear up with the  budding of the  trees.
I cannot wait.

My sister Agnes who was visiting from the Philippines once  noted the snow on the branches and said, "Yeah, that's exactly how they  paint these on Christmas cards."  And she said it like it was a serendipitous moment.



I looked through the other bay window. There stood the concrete birdbath waiting for it's time to welcome birds in the Spring.
Perhaps, Spring will help take off some of the heaviness in the heart?



I zoomed in and found some cracks at the base. The cold of harsh winter year after year has finally penetrated this faithful birdbath. Even so I know this Spring, it will continue to  make birds happy with the water it will hold. It will again be a sight to behold.


"Is the spring coming?" he said. "What is it like?"
"it is the sun shining on the rain, and the rain falling on the sunshine..."
--Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

My Sisters...My Bestfriends

We're sisters...all six of us, and we're best of friends. We love to get together and talk, laugh and eat, and do all sorts of things fun sisters do together. We are a noisy bunch (at home, not in public) and our NANAY (MOM) used to  complain about our loud guffaws and  endless yaps. Truth is, NANAY loved to see us together doing what we do best...like I said...talk, eat and laugh! It used to behoove her how we could plan our next  merienda (snack)  while still eating lunch...and while eating snack we  could talk and plan our  dinner. Hey, food is one of the best things that bind people together.  Oh, but we're not all food, talk and laughter...we are also about caring , loving and looking out for each other. It is a comfort to know that there are  persons in our lives who share our beautiful past (growing up) together, who share  our successes, griefs, happiness together, who are commited to celebrate and journey through life. Sisters are  blessings---I know too well. Mine surely are!

Oh, the BEE among the flowers is our  brother. He is not a member of the SISTERHOOD...although we love him dearly....

"For there is no friend like a sister

In calm or stormy weather;

To cheer one on the  tedious way,

To fetch one if one goes astray,

To lift one if one totters down,

To strengthen whilst one stands."

---Chritina  Rossetti

"Sister. She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows you when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink......---Barbara Alpert

 Tiffany heart necklaces we wear that mark the  sisterhood club...

Sisters are beloved angels whom God sent to be beside us through thick and thin.

                     ----Anonymous

We laugh, we cry, we make time fly. Best friends are we...my sisters and me.

                                                                                 ---Anonymous

Sisters are special from young ones to old. God gave me sisters, more precious than gold. ------Anonymous

My sisters are my favorite persons to hang out with.
----Florisse Scouten

You keep your past by having sisters. As  you get older, they're the only ones who don't get bored if you talk about your  memories.-------Deborah Moggach

Love, Mercy and Grace, sisters all, attend your wounds of silence and hope.

---Aberjhani

             Having sisters is like  having best friends for life.

Sisterhood in a club with a lifetime membership

      The best thing about having sisters is that  I always have friends.
                                                                ---Marion Garritty

     A sister is a little bit of  childhood that  can never be lost.

Sisters don't intrude on your life, but they do keep an eye on it.

I'm smiling because you're my sister. I'm laughing  because  there's nothing you can do about it.

Both within the family and without,
our sisters hold up our mirrors;
Our images of who we are and of who we can dare to be.
                         ---Elizabeth Fuhel

Is solace anywhere more comforting  that that in the arms of a sister?
-------Alice Walker

There can be no situation in life in which the conversation of my dear sister will not administer some comfort to me.
--------Mary W. Montagu



A true sister is a friend who listens with her heart.

----Unknown



A friend knows all of your best stories, but a sister has been through all of them with you.        -----Unknown

Sister  is our first friend and second, mother.
----Sunny Gupta



Friends change. Lovers leave. Sisters are eternal.



YOu know full well as I do the value of sisters' affections: There is nothing like it in this world
----Charlotte Bronte

My sisters are my favorite people on earth.

----Ryan Phillippe

How do people make it through life without a sister?

You and I are sisters. Always remember that if you fall, I will pick you up---as soon as I finish laughing.

Sisters make the best of friends.
Sisters are different  flowers from the same  garden.

Serenading Nanay

 

Here I go again. I came  home to the Philippines. Nanay went home to be with the Lord, and so I must go to say goodbye.  My dear Nanay who was the embodiment of a Proverbs 31 woman took her last breath February 1, 2013. (A mere five months after the apple of her eye, my kid brother passed away in September.) 

  

 

 

 

 I fingered the intricate embroidery and beads of Nanay's pina dress. I told her I love her. I thanked her for all that she's done for me. I thanked her for all the prayers she uttered for me growing up. I thanked her for setting a good example in life  for me. I sat before her and reminisced beautiful memories.

 

 

 

 Nanay's nephew and nieces from her one and only brother came to visit. They brought their teenagers to serenade Nanay. Seven of them sat around before Nanay's casket and played their violins, viola and cello. What beautiful gesture. I know Nanay would have loved it if she were alive to hear it.

 

(They are cousins growing together, making music together. What could be better than that?)

 

It behooves me to think that our families are getting bigger and we are becoming strangers to one another. If I bump into anyone of these faces out in the streets or malls, I would never know that he/she is (closely) related  to me.  That he/she  is my niece/nephew from my first cousins. And there are many more of them around whom I have not met. So imagine my delight  to meet these beautiful violin-viola-cello-toting young people who happen to be family. They go everywhere, and they go bringing their music with them.

 

Sunday Afternoon

We relish our  weekend afternoons together. We lounge. We hang out, all three of us. We talk and laugh and  enjoy  each other. We go to church. We dine out. We browse libraries or  Barnes and Noble. We watch tv and nap together. We read books and talk about what we read.

We like doing things together. Family is the best company...bar none. We also do things individually together. 

 

Zach may do the ipad while Dad plays his guitar  and mommy tinkers with her  camera.

Each one pursuing his  interest, together.

Each one is busy and  in quiet solitude together.

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.