Dear BOY: 10-27
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Dear Dimsum,
It's been that long.
You are now my past.
We now have separate lives with new partners in life.
But I just want to thank you for that journey of having my son who is now an angel in heaven.
He didn't make it but he will always be a part of us.
So thank you for my son.
Just thank you for the memories.
I pray God gives you the happiness.
Thank you for the song below.
Thank you for this song.
I wish you nothing but the best.
I wish you well.
"Princess"
Gatorade
Tuesday, October 08, 2013
There will be something about Gatorade that will make me think of the past. Having had several surgeries, we all know that undergoing a surgical procedures gives the body it's own discomforts and damages. Three of those are (1) nausea and vomiting as the body recuperate back to adjusting the abdominal muscles after the anesthesia and strong pain medicines, (2) blood loss that can dangerously turn to hypovolemic shock of the body and (3) is loss of fluids, electrolytes and mineral imbalances. And as a sickly child who spent my summers with bronchial asthma in the hospitals and having an awesome nurse I call, "Mama," I often rejected the intravenous (IV) insertions and puked all the medicines and Mom's solutions to that was to drink Gatorade to relive my body back to bounce.
Then as an adult, never would I even think about reliving that episodes again. And when I get too sickly, I often just ask for Gatorade when my body rejects an actual food or beverage intake. And as we all know, nurses and medical persons are the worst kind of patients. And I admit, I certainly am is one of them as I say "no" and decline anything that I feel that I don't need. And I am as stubborn as I can be.
Needless to say, even when the love of my life took care of me when I was too sick, I just asked for Gatorade if he asked if I needed anything. Well, I asked for plain soup broth and Gatorade to replenish my weakling body. And that's all he brought me. In fact, he restocked my fridge in my room for those Gatorade just so I would never ran out.
I guess that's what Gatorades remind me of: simply LOVE. Because they but me those so ill fee better coping up physically. And sometimes, I don't even ask for it and its there next to me readily available just in case I needed it.
It has been a tedious week of going back and forth to emergency rooms this week. I wish I was the one giving the medical attention. But sadly, it is the vice versa. I am on the receiving end as my is showing signs of digestive discomforts and gallbladder problems that might lead to a gallbladder removal soon. I pray not. Mom is feeling sickly lately too that I have ignored my own painful symptoms just so I can take care of her and be by her side when she needs me. I have to be pretend I am the strongest because I can not afford to be weak when My own mother is not feeling all too well.
Tonight, as I watch over Mom waiting for her medicines I have given her, I write here my thoughts. I can't even tell you how many meals my body rejected. I have been undergoing nausea and vomiting episodes triggered by pain from my gallbladder. And I sneaked out from Mom to puke in the
Restroom and sneak out a Gatorade drink. Only because the Gatorade is the only thing my body can tolerate right now.
So here's reminiscing...
Here's to taking care of myself...
Here's to reminders of love and being loved...
Here's to drinking Gatorade now even if in pain.
Why?
Because Gatorade is love.
Gatorade is loving myself just like the people around me loves me.
CHOPSTICKS
Wednesday, October 02, 2013
I've mastered the world of chopsticks.
I am of Chinese decent as my ancestors came from China.
But I grew up Filipino and Spanish almost forgetting my Chinese roots.
Months ago, when I visited my Lola Fe (Grandma Fe) in Santa Barbara, she reminded me that I hailed from my Chinese ancestors of Sy, So and Tan.
And that my great grandfather were so Chinese that is why I can not be denied with my chinky eyes who are proud Hookien descendants in China.
But I think I learned to be more Chinese because of someone else.
You see, I adopted more to my Spanish heritage hearing my grandparents spoke Spanish growing up.
I see my Maternal and Paternal grannies and I could not be denied of my Asian roots.
But I was raised more Spanish and Filipino than even being Chinese or Japanese.
It sucks that I am more Chinese now because I was influence by someone else in my past.
And my son who is half-Chinese Vietnamese made me realize the importance of recognizing my own roots.
I will never be too Chinesey enough.
I can eat chopsticks well now because I forced my self to relearn it because of that someone in my past.
I never admitted it but what he doesn't know is that I understood some of the Chinese language they spoke about behind my back.
I never claimed but he didn't know that I was a black belter in Karate and Wi-Shu growing up.
I never talked about it but I spent endless memories and I spent a huge portion of my childhood eating eating xiumai, Cha si bao.
And that I am so great at using the Chinese abacus than any calculator because that's what my grannies taught me.
I will never be Chinese enough.
I will never be Chinese as they are.
But what sets me apart?
I am Chinese.
It ran in my veins.
I ate with Chopsticks too like they did.
But I'm proud to be Chinese now because I have a son whom I passed on my blood to,
I may never be able to teach Him what being Chinese is all about.
But we get to share that together.
We wille as Chinese as we can .
We can not deny.
It is us.
It is me.
It is even more of him.
