Happy Birthday

I wish I Could
(Collin Raye)

Looking out my window
See you playing in the leaves
It's amazing how a little boy
Means all the world to me
When I tell you that I love you
I love you more than words can say

Smile, say cheese pretty-please
I wanna take your picture
How'd you ever get so big
I gotta take your picture
Hold on to the memory before the whole thing slips away

I wish I could save these moments
And put 'em in a jar
I wish I could stop the world from turning
Keep things just the way they are
I wish I could shelter you from everything
Not pure and sweet and good
I know I can't, I know I can't
But I wish I could

When you kiss me for no reason
It goes straight to my heart
When I feel your arms around me
I almost fall apart
It's time for bed you whisper
Daddy, we forgot to pray

I wish I could save these moments
And put 'em in a jar
I wish I could stop the world from turning
Keep things just the way they are
I wish I could shelter you from everything
Not pure and sweet and good
I know I can't, I know I can't
But I wish I could

And when I watch you sleeping
All my worries fade away
A little bit of heaven glows on your angelic face

I wish I could save these moments
And put 'em in a jar
I wish I could stop the world from turning
Keep things just the way they are
I wish I could shelter you from everything
Not pure and sweet and good
I know I can't, I know I can't
I know I can't
But I wish I could

Above is a song by Collin Raye that has since became my unspoken anthem when I became a father four years ago. Being blessed is a very profound thing. And each passing day since then I've learned things so insightful I've never even thought of before. like becoming happy with a single smile, or how a simple hug could mean the world, or how telling stories or watching a small person pray at night can make your heart flutter.

FERGUS RAYE, a very happy birthday, son. Your birthday is always a special day to celebrate the gift of "YOU" to the world. Thank you for being a catalyst, an inspiration and educating me how simple things could mean so much.

Captured Moments

Jean has finally came back from her sister's wedding in the Philippines and brought some pictures. I'm sharing some here.


Happy after losing 23 pounds in 3 months


With Eldest sister Prima


With the Ring Bearer


Ring-bearer Barako


Chancing with some old friends at the supermarket


Fergus adored his baby cousin and has been asking for a baby sister since coming back


With Mom and sisters


Bumping into an old friend from way back.

Bluer than Blue

Being lonely is a bizarre thing. You can be lonely but not alone. I guess it's that craving within for a companion or a loved one, or both. I knew the feeling. I've been lonely before (well, who hasn't?). Yet when we feel at home and we have the people we've always longed for, you seem to forget that feeling of isolation and desolation that goes along with being lonely. In my case, I totally forget about it. How it feels or how it affects you. for two years straight I've been numb of it... Until now.

It's my second day being alone. Jean and Fergus went back to the Philippines to attend her sister's wedding and will be gone for over a week. At first I was excited since I have a thing or two in mind that I can do while the missus is away, like getting together with some friends and going out together. But then, one by one, the things that I thought were very ordinary, things I actually just took for granted sets in.

When I wake up alone yesterday, There was no breakfast waiting for me. No hot coffee. No croissants or eggs. And since there's nobody to woke me up, I was late and just had a brunch at lunchbreak. Upon coming home, the house is un-lit. There's no tyke rushing towards me to give me a hug and ask if I have a new toy for him when I opened the door. Nobody came over to give me a kiss and ask how was my day at work. No prepared dinner, so I had to make one for myself. After that, I had to wash the dishes too. Well, I used to do all of these work before when I was living alone, but I guess I was so used to the comforts that my wife does for me that it becomes everyday- ordinary for me. And more often than not, it all went unappreciated.

When I went to the bedroom, it's as messed up as it was when I left it that morning. The bed was not made and the usual nice scent wasn't there. Nobody's watching the TV and no teleserye dialogue can be heard. When I took my night bath, nobody's barking at me to off the heater after or prevent me from soiling the carpet. I can draw or sat infront of the game console with nothing to bother me.

... And I don't like it.

Actually it's not as much as not liking because I can live with it. The cooking and the dishwashing and the washing/ ironing/making the bedroom. I can do that. I've done it before and I can live with it all over again, of course with some adjusting needed.

... But not without my family. Because what i missed most are not the chores done but their presence. The hugs, the kisses, the conversations, the banters and petty quarrels. Not to mention joining your wife while she watches her favourite teleserye. Or the laughter that my son generates while we draw and play together. These things are priceless.

So enough with all the thoughts about beauty in solitude. I want the noise back.

As of now, I'm living in a house. And it won't be a home until my family is back. Because it's the family that makes the home and it's always where the heart is.

... And I can't wait.

Art Share

I'm pretty caught up with work and at the same time trying to finish some comics drawing. So I'll just share some pictures of my favourite painter who had a painting spree last week (school holiday).

In the house...








...and at East Coast beach park, where we had camping.

A loveletter

I've had a good 4-day off from the Chinese New Year period and it gave me time to do things that I don't do often, especially at this stage of my life. Though I still draw my comics, as I always do on my free time, I've done something I never did for a long time-- writing a loveletter.

God knows how long since I wrote my last loveletter. Well, REAL loveletter and really meant it. I think I stopped writing one after my second wedding anniversary. That was the last time I wrote one for Jean. The reason for this is that I feel GUILTY writing it. So guilty that I considered it a sin.

When I was younger, I wrote a lot of it. For the girls I used to woe before in my school days, and for my friends (guys) who were either unimaginatively lackluster when it comes to inscripting their feelings, or were so busy getting into other girls' pants they just wanted a letter to give them a sensitive side to the girl's impression and mask their true intention.

Words are really powerful. and since I have real trouble in speaking and saying things about my feelings, and was quickly feeling embarassed and awkward, I use the loveletter to my utmost advantage. It was my shield from the actual rejection and the hurt of denunciation. Yet more often than not, the negative responses are far more outnumbered by the positive ones, which surprises me since I am the first to admit I'm not into MOST girls' Prince Charming standards.

I've never thought of myself as a bad person. Yet, looking back now, I guess I may have used my skill with scripting lovenotes to the extent of unfairly deceiving and giving false hopes to women I've been with in the past. words like "You'll always be the one" and "Forever" were used countless times, mostly flowered with moving phrases and adjectives of endearments, and most of the time I don't even mean it. Sometimes you even think you really meant something but then again, you just woke up next morning and found that you have moved on and you need a change. And because of this process I never realized I have caused pain and grief and disillusionment to people. Only a few years ago that I had the time to really reflect about it and I came to really hate doing it and vowed not to write another loveletter again if I can.

But last weekend I had a fight with Jean and it really blew out to some proportions. We didn't talk for a day and that is really strange. I knew I have myself mostly (not solely though) to blame so I have to make the move. Again, I cannot fully relate my emotions verbally so I have no choice but to write. I struggled at first, but at least I know what I'm writing is true.

Below is the note I simply titled "I'm Sorry". You'll be the judge if it worked.

"I’m asking forgiveness for not being there as always as you would’ve wanted me too, especially in these times when I’m chasing for my dreams. I know you feel alone at times and all you need is comfort, yet I misread it as tantrum and provoked you instead. Forgive me if I’m not that sensitive sometimes to comfort you back when you cry or make you feel better when you’re down, or console you when you feel alone. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all these times that waking up with you in the morning and seeing the sunrise on your face means everything to me. The feeling of completeness I experience over an over again every time I see your face sleeping so peacefully next to me. I’m sorry I did not tell you how the simple things you did was appreciated by my heart, or how my soul drowned with happiness time and time again that I experienced the magic of your laughter. I’m sorry for the times that I’ve been so selfish and egoistic that I hurt your feelings with the things I’ve said. I regret the timesI’ve been angry with you and I hated myself for the times that I made you cry."

Cross-country Getaway

Below are some of the pictures that was taken on our short trip to Genting Highlands(known as the Las Vegas of Asia) and Kuala Lumpur. Of course, both are in Malaysia. A gruelling 7-hour couch ride from Singapore. all's worth it, though. We had a great time.


Couch riding!


view of the Malaysia highway from the front of the couch.


Cross-country ride.


McDonalds is everywhere!


Eating while looking down the indoor splash lagoon


Eiffel Ride. Inside the Hotel's Indoor themepark


Venice Creek. Inside the Hotel's Indoor themepark


Statue of liberty. Inside the Hotel's Indoor themepark


Oscar!


Genting Walk. First World Hotel's indoor Mall


Recording some moments


Outside Hotel First World, where we stayed. It's facade lights up like a Las Vegas hotel at night.


Channel Linkway


Outdoor Theme Park


Hotel First World Lobby. Waiting for our number to check out.


Genting Highlands Couch Terminal(on our way going down to KL). It's so foggy and the cold is 12 degrees celcius.


At the vast grounds behind the Petronas Twin towers


Suria KLCC Shopping Mall, Kuala Lumpur




In our room at Capitol Hotel Kuala Lumpur


On our way back to Singapore

Thank You

I just want to thank all the people that still drop here from time to time and read my meager posts that only get updated weekly(barely). Thanks also for all the kind and understanding comments about my last post. It was greatly appreciated.

Tomorrow is Jean's birthday. so I just want to greet my wife a very happy birthday. When she does something nice I always say thank you, and for her birthday, though I can never thank her enough for all the wonderful things her presence brought into my life, and words are never enough to describe the full extent of feeling one feels, I just want to say thank you once again.

Thank you because you taught me that couples should learn the art of battle as they should learn the art of making love. Because good battle is objective and honest - never vicious or cruel. The same way that when we clash principles and ideas, it is healthy and constructive, and brings to our marriage the principle of equal partnership.

Thank you for making believe that marriage is not when the 'perfect couple' comes together. It is when an imperfect couple learns to enjoy their differences.It's not about soul mates reflecting each other's talents, wants and interests; but about two people who even are so different in ways and backgrounds, yet complimenting each other, mutually making a better person from each other.

For sacrificing your own career just to be with me and personally mold Fergus as he grow, and gladly doing it.

For not leading, but holding me side by side along the way.

For continually inspiring me, and pushing me to do the things i wanted to do in my life, to follow my dreams however crazy or outrageous they may be.

For just being there... When everybody's not.

(I'm posting this now because I won't be around tomorrow till the weekend. I promised the missus I'm taking her and Fergus somewhere in the region).

Final Bow

Being moved is a very complex feeling. It triggers something in us that touches our very soul and affects our very lives. Most of the time it elicit tears, goosebumps, and even made us to break down and cry. It makes us sigh, reflect, and it even inspires. It's like being touched by the hand of God.

You're maybe thinking what caused me to say about this things. Well, around two weeks ago I received a call from my mother that my 95 year old grandmother died. Though I know it was inevitable, knowing her age and all of that, I still cannot believe the news. And I felt pain that I've never known or felt for a very long time. It's harrowing, it's excruciating that I cannot describe it in words.

This is not the first time I talked about my grandmother. I posted one before HERE.

I wanted to post about it here before, but I just cannot get my hand to type the right words. I know some of you may not feel as attached to your grandparents the way you are attached to your parents or siblings. Not me. I grew up with my grandmother living next to us. And I learned so many things from her. She has this gift of knowing the right things to say at the right time. I don't know if it's wisdom accumulated through lifetime of hardship and tests, but she always has good things to say even in times when nothing seems to go right. She was a mediator for quarelling husbands and wives, an adviser to many people in our place, and always the one people go when they need spiritual(more of a soulful things, and less religious) assistance and guidance. I sometimes thought that people abused her kindness. And I used to see my gandfather make a fuzz about it. But ever the cariñosa, she always had things her way.

I remember how kids in our place would gather in my lola's small veranda every weekend to hear her stories. Even grown ups wanted to hear them because her stories were always animated and she never let you go home without something to lean from it.

These things, together with so many other memories flashed back to me upon learning of her death.

A week ago she was finally laid to rest beside my grandfather's tomb. They said you can sum up a person's life by knowing the support you get when you die. and I guess it's true. For my lola was never lonely when my parents and sibling laid her to grave. So many people has given support and the parish church that hosted her final tribute was never enough for all the relatives and people that came to give their final respect. And this kind of things move me. To know that my grandmother has touched so many lives is a feat I myself knew cannot surpass.

I wasn't there. I never wanted to. I didn't want to see my grandmother in a casket-- cold and lifeless. That would be too much for me. I want to remember her the way she was when I last saw her-- contented, smiling, and ready for everything.

A few years from now, people will not even remember how she died... But even how I know, they'll remember how she lived.

Off to School

First Day of School Moments. He's brave. While most of the kids has to wail their lungs out crying and has to be dragged inside the classroom, he quitely entered the new environment with a smile, never shedding a single tear of fear.