On Faith: Let Me Be the Last Person to be Questioned

Now this is one touchy subject not just for me, but for a lot of people. I actually had not realized its sensitivity until I was told that my husband and I should join Couples for Christ or something like that to enlighten ourselves.

Honey, my husband and I neither need to join groups like that nor have the need for enlightenment where faith is concerned.

This comes on the heels of recent episodes in my life involving challenges after challenges after challenges involving my father's health. I feel bad about having to bitch at people who I know mean well but just rub me the wrong way when they tell me to be strong or to pray.

Darling, I have neither given up nor stopped praying.

See I believe that each of us has our own relationship with God. It's a belief that has not changed and has stayed with me through the different phases and chapters of my relationship with Him.

It is no secret that it is frowned upon by most people if discrimination exists on the basis of religion. I particularly do not like it if a certain group claims that their faith is stronger or deeper or that they are the only ones that can be saved during Judgment Day. Why? It is unfair. It is hypocritical. It is astonishingly boastful and contradictory to any teaching about humility.

Humility is about accepting that there's a difference between me and you; that what may be applicable to one may not be applicable to another. It is also about believing that no one is above anyone; that one's strength may be one's weakness and vice-versa.

I know. I do sound like a self-righteous braggart, contradicting my own words with what seem like double standard principles. But here's the thing: I do not need to join charismatic groups or switch religions to deepen my faith in Him and glorify His work. I'm not saying either that this is one firm resolve on my part to put a ban to keeping my options and my mind open about things like this. In fact, I laud the good that groups like these do. It's just I have my own way of proclaiming He is my God. And if I finally feel the need to be a part of one to expand my worship activities (Yes, dear friends, I go to mass! Regularly!), I will just join one. No questions asked.

I can go on and on like a self-proclaimed preacher so short of becoming one, let me end this blog by saying that though I truly appreciate words encouraging me to be strong and to pray, know that I just do. Otherwise, I wouldn't still be here. At all.

Dear Mommy

Happy birthday!

I'm sure that from heaven, you read my FB status earlier  -  five years have passed and there's not a day, a single day that I don't miss you.

When I woke up this morning, I cried. I cried just for the thought that, well, I can't share things with you and have you respond like you used to. But don't worry, mommy. The pain is much lesser. Gloria Vanderbilt, mother of CNN Anchor Anderson Cooper framed it well when she said that we never really move on or get over the loss, particularly the death of a loved one; that we learn to live with it.

Tell me though, how do I get through the start, or the middle/peak/climax  -  depending on which way or how you look at it  -  of a pain again? With dad, I am, once again, going through the same painful journey that I first had with you the moment you were diagnosed with Dementia of the Alzheimer's type.

I was in denial at first, firmly shunning thoughts of hardship and helplessness as I took things a step and a day at a time. And when time came that I couldn't shun these no more, I still walked forward as I knew there was no turning back.

Then again, what can I do when the very person I turned to when you breathed your last is now suffering, himself?

Mom, I know it's your birthday but on this very day that I learned about dad's condition, can you do me a favor? Can you hold dad's hand and whisper thoughts of assurance on my behalf as he goes through the amputation of his left foot? Can you stay beside him as he goes through yet another painful episode in his life? Can you let him know that I love him as much as I love you? Can you help him carry himself through the way you had done so during your time? Can you, just like you used to, help me pray to God to ease dad's suffering?

I know what I am asking for may be too much. It's just it tears me apart to have to learn about these things when I'm several thousand miles away.............

First September in the US

Being asked how long I've lived in the US is tricky for me. The answer's always composed of two parts: the one that says I arrived on an immigrant visa in July and the one that says I've been in and out of the country since 2008 on a tourist visa.

The above statements are not really borne out of anything technical, e.g. visa applications, immigration concerns, etc., but over the past couple of months I've learned that it's essential to be slightly on the defense whenever I find myself in similar situations. Why? I had to prove that though I am fairly new to certain things in my current country of residence, I am not clueless at all  -  something of which I had to consistently be clear about during job interviews. Plus, it's for my sanity too.  I just don't want to feel "tanga" (stupid's the more or less exact translation for this Filipino word but the bite that comes with saying the exact term is more appealing than saying or in this case, typing, its English counterpart).

Anyhoo, this blog's not really about my feelings of katangahan (again, "stupidity"). It's about what has happened so far since my last blog a month (?  -  far too lazy to check my blog list. lol ) ago. Why place this much emphasis now? Well, it's because the month of September in the US is the month of my many "firsts":

1. It's my first September in the US. I was in Florida and California in August of 2008. I returned to the country in January of 2009 to get my Nicaraguan visa in Los Angeles and in March of the same year for a week's worth of vacation/stopover in the Bay Area before returning to Manila. When I got married in 2010, I stayed with my husband at our South San Francisco home from January to July of said year.

2. It's my first time to miss a visit from Aunt Flo (yes, we're TTC). Six urine pregnancy tests and one blood test all said that no, I'm not pregnant. It's my Cycle Day 43 now. I'm normally on a regular 28-day cycle, give or take a day or two early or delayed. If I were pregnant, I would be six weeks on the family way already. This morning though, and I don't know if it's just my eyes deceiving me, I may have just been given a signal that this bloody old hag is soon to arrive. I know. Too much information. Can you blame me if I still am wishing for those two lines? At this point though, it's either I don't test (last test was a week ago) and/or Aunt Flo shows up to end my suffering.

3. It's my first time in Seattle. Sergs and I spent a long weekend in the state of Washington. We were there from September 9 to 12. Our very hospitable and gracious hosts who took us all over the city and beyond  -  Sergs's cousins Roger, Joan and Mike, and their partners Eva, Ivan and Lura, respectively  -  were also accommodating and warm  -  as warm as the weather when we got there! Seattle is normally much colder than the Bay Area but it was unusually hot when we arrived  -  perfect for a lot of firsts for my husband and me. Ivan and Joan took us for our very first boat ride on their sailboat, "Moment". Eva coaxed the Sims/Facebook-playing me to try their Kinect (for Xbox 360). My thoughts were also filled with Grey's Anatomy episodes with backdrops of the Space Needle, the usual tourist spots and salmon  -  lots of it! I didn't know Seattle was famous for this fish. Now I know. lol.

4. It'll be my first day as a full-time teller for Bank of America on the 26th. From this statement alone you can tell that there's a lot of firsts to it. It's my first job in the US. It's my first time in the banking industry, let alone, my first experience as a teller. I am actually excited. If the job had been in the Philippines, my emotions would have been the exact opposite: salaries of tellers in my native country are equivalent to my first salary after college graduation  -  my last job in Manila gave me four or five times of this amount. Besides, the fact that I'm a college graduate of one of the finest universities in the Philippines tells me I can do better. Right now though I can't be picky. For the 13 million who are currently unemployed in the US, I can now say that this job offer at least grandly pulls me away from this horrible statistics. My starting rate and the benefits included are actually better than most hourly jobs. It also doesn't hurt that I'll soon be working for the largest bank in the country and that the branch where I'll be assigned is composed mostly of Filipinos.

5. From the 27th to the 30th, it'll be the first time that Sergs leaves me alone at home. He'll be on a business trip in Oregon. Obviously I'd have to stay because of my job but then this also brings forth the fact that I'll have to make it on my own travelling-wise. Ayaw pa kasing mag-aral mag-drive eh even with the promise of a new Volkswagen. lol.