It's Officially Holiday Season Up North.

After the American Thanksgiving and the Macy's Parade last Thursday, Nov. 26th, the Holiday season officially started in the U.S.

In Toronto, Easy Rock, 97.3 on the radio dial, started playing Christmas songs, too. So now, I can listen 24/7 to Christmas carols. Awesome!

But if you're a Filipino planning to come home to the Philippines for the Holidays and haven't reserved a ticket yet, you're in tough luck.

It seems that there are no more available seats left and I'm talking almost all of the airline companies, NWA, Korean, Air Canada, Cathay, etc. First class tickets, maybe.

One agent I talked to immediately asked, "are you willing to travel on Christmas Day itself ? "

Well, I remember one time when I booked late, and actually travelled on the morning of December 25. There was a big group of Filipinos on that trip so we all celebrated Christmas Day up up in the sky.

But the frustrating part was that the plane landed in Cebu and we had to board a local flight to Manila.

We touched down at the Domestic airport and the party who was picking us up was waiting at the International. I remember taking a taxi and two Filipinas tagged along with me so we could meet our relatives who were waiting at the other airport, then going back to the Domestic to pick up our luggage.

This happened because the Filipino travel agency where we got the tickets did not advise us that the flight we booked was bound for Cebu. Well, actually they did. At the Pearson International few minutes before boarding time.

That agency closed shop a long time ago. Good.

My Boxing Day.

LEFT - Old Santa, bloated Uncle Gene, and grand niece 'Ona.


It's not even the day after Christmas, the usual Boxing Day, but Canadian retailers are already having Boxing Day sales going on. In the US of A, it's Black Friday today, when prices of commodities have been slashed dramatically.

Boxing Day in Canada literally means that merchandisers are putting into boxes those unsold Christmas items and storing them because Christmas is finished. On Boxing Day, consumers line up before store opening hours to be first to pick up the items on sale.

I'm having my own Boxing Day. I'm putting my things in boxes and luggage. Things and junks accumulated throughout the years. Some stuff are still in their original cartons and unopened.

In the storage room of the condo, there's an unused bike which I purchased years ago, with the original chain lock still in place.

I might give it away to my nephew's kid, Jackson or Leona, when I go to Ohio one of these days. But they have to wait at least ten more years before any of them can use it.

I've Got a Crush on You.

As sung by
Frank Sinatra









Faces I Find Fascinating

L - R
Ava Gardner, Bette Davis,
Joanne Crawford
Kathleen Turner, Faye Dunaway,
Gemma Cruz
Jessica Lange, Claire Forlani,
Claudine Barreto,
Marlene Dauden and Leann Rhimes


How glad the many millions of annabelles and lillians
Would be to capture me
But you had such persistence, you wore down my resistance
I fell and it was swell

I'm your big and brave and handsome romeo
How I won you I shall never never know
Its not that you're attractive
But, oh, my heart grew active
When you came into view

I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie
All the day and night-time give me sigh
I never had the least notion that
I could fall with so much emotion

Could you coo, could you care
For a cunning cottage we could share
The world will pardon my mush
Cause I have got a crush on you

Could you coo, could you care
For a cunning cottage
That we could share
The world will pardon my mush
Cause I have got a crush, my baby, on you

I'll climb the mountain. I'll cross the sea.

I'll climb the mountain
I'll cross the sea,
Everything I'll do just to get away
Away, away,
Away.

The rough sail looks exciting
In the 4 degree weather, even.
The snails are buried in the sand
The castles doomed, too.

The horizon in the East is gloomy
There are murders there,
The pols are evil
The poor are poorer.

I'll climb the mountain
I'll cross the sea,
I'll trade my last clothing
I'll burn my last candle.

I'll zoom to the top
and race with the wind
And get to be there
In my dream, somewhere.

Doc's Waiting Room cum Library.

Flu season has started in Ontario, so I got a flu shot this afternoon. And while waiting to be seen by my Doc, I did the usual thing I do in any doctor's waiting room - read.

My family physician is a car enthusiast so naturally his subscription includes car and truck magazines, even subscription from European publishers and of course, Sports Illustrated is a staple in the magazine rack.

After browsing some car and sports magazines, I found one of my favorites, McLean's, a true Canadian publication. I was also looking for a Time or Newsweek, but couldn't find any this time.

The Sports Illustrated I read featured an article about the Florida Gators' quarterback, Tim Tebow, who won the Heisman Trophy in 2007.

In a College Football website, it says, in 2007: "Florida's folk-hero quarterback with the rugged running style and magnetic personality won the Heisman on Saturday night to become the first sophomore or freshman to take college football's most prestigious award."

And this year, Tim Tebow is again on the running for the Heisman.

But what caught my attention in the Tebow article was the young man's other pre-occupation in life: he's a preacher. And a son of a preacher/missionary. His dad and mom used to be missionaries in the Southern Philippines, and before Tim was conceived, his father prayed for a son and promised the Lord that if he gets a son, he'd make him a preacher.

Bob and Pam Tebow, worked for five years as Baptist Church missionaries in South Cotabato, Mindanao some 24 years ago, where Tim was born. The father now runs several orphanages in Southeast Asia including one in the Philippines.

Yes, father Bob got a son, Tim, and he became a quarterback but also a preacher. Off football tracks, Tim goes to prisons where he's allowed to go and preaches his faith. He prefers to talk to the most hardened or those without hope anymore.

According to http://www.gatorzone.com/ regarding Tebow's nomination for this year's William Campbell Trophy, "Off the field, Tebow has spent over 700 hours of community service and appearances this year, including making phone calls to sick children and going on hospital visits to pediatric wings, among other service activities. Honored with UF’s Office of Student Life’s Goodwill Gator Community Service Award in 2008, Tebow cites his priorities in this order: faith, family, academics and then football."

Almost every year, Tim and his family spend vacation time preaching and reaching out to the poor in the Philippines' South. And just recently in one of these spring breaks, Tim assisted in the circumcision of poor Pinoy kids in GenSan.

Now leafing through an old issue of McClean's my eyes riveted to two articles: one, the latest craze among tweenies (pre-teen girls), Bras. What?

And the second one, how one marriage counsellor parlayed her shocking divorce into a career: marriage counselling.

In the divorce article, it said that " those husbands who suddenly break to their wives the news that they want a divorce, almost the majority do so in the months between November through January." It further says, it is so, because the husbands could no longer dare show a happy face during the Holidays.

So, next time you book an appointment to see a doctor, make sure you have less or more time to be in the waiting room. It's either you've got to finish reading what you started or don't read at all.

Sweetheart Movies.

I have the luxury of time so I have purposely not shaken off my jet lag. I am not back into the normal flow of things, yet. I am absolutely off. I have not watched any TV shows until yesterday evening when I flipped channels and stopped at Channel 11 (CHCH) where they've got movies.

So last night I watched "Failure to Launch" which I've seen before, and tonight after a pizza dinner by myself, "A Cinderella Story" starring Hillary Duff.

What am I doing watching these "for sweetheart movies, " meaning you've got to have a date to be seeing these stuff?

Well, I want light-hearted movies, at this time, that's why. I want to laugh and be entertained. I want to kick off some blues.

I bought 6 DVDs of new, yes, new movies at the St. Francis Square across MegaMall, but I haven't unloaded my second luggage so they're still buried among clothes.

Song. Song.

How many songs could a person sing in three hours of karaoke-ing? Not enough, I found out.

In a recent outing at the Red Box, our group (sisters, bro in law, niece and some) didn't really get the feel of the night and our throats didn't even itch, as we downed pop, beers and alternated with the microphone.

The Pinoys' love and craziness over karaoke haven't abated. I'm sure every average Joe and Jane (Juan and Juanita) has a karaoke in the house. Those without one, I guess, belong to a minority of Pinoys still in denial.

A bro in law who sits as an RTC judge has perfected his pitch and choice of songs, and anytime he gets hold of a microphone could belt out any song from the Magic Sing or Wow song book. My eldest sister, meanwhile can knock them out with her renditions of old love songs by Doris Day, Paul Anka and Anita Bryant and her husband, a medical doctor like her, can match her songs with "A Certain Smile and Release Me."

My other sister, a school officer, is the official "bajo" in the family choir together with me, and another sis can put Patsy Cline to shame with her "Crazy' stuff. My youngest sis and youngest bro, can carry tunes, too, and the other sis, who's been a late bloomer in her karaoke singing, can sing and dance Oh Carol and Diana by Neil Sedaka, or is Paul Anka?

My nieces and nephews, even Mica and my favorite singer who loves I Will Survive and Dancing Queen, have great voices and matching dance moves.

Professionals and non professionals and almost every Pinoy I know share the joys of karaoke singing. But how come there are still certain people who look down on karaoke as too "bakya," or for the "masa lang daw."

Manny Pacquiao, the Great Hope of Boxing, is another karaoke aficionado who's gone professional in singing. But look how some people still ridicule him.

I watched a once well known singer in a concert at the Captain's Bar in Mandarin while I was in Manila, and the singer cracked some jokes, including, how other people and the boxer himself, consider Pacquiao handsome. It's all because of the money he's got, the once well known singer said. No one in the audience laughed.

I remember the years 2000 - 2002 when I lived in a farm in Nueva Ecija and how we would have lunches at the nearby Fort Magsaysay. There would always be soldiers and other military people crammed around the videoke screaming their lungs out. And there would be late evening trips back to Manila and dinners at roadside cafes where ordinary folks enjoyed food and drinks and videoke singing.

Toronto has dozens of Filipino restaurants and bars with karaoke nights, and thousands of mainstream Canadian restaurants and bars with the same attraction. Five or seven years ago, karaoke was mostly the Filipino and Asian's delight.

It took the show American Idol to get bathroom singing out of the shower and into the open - into a bar or the party.

Pass the mike, please.

Finished.

While in the Philippines, I finished reading two classics and 6 contemporary English books, the latter books I purchased at the National Bookstore.

As to the classics, there was the Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen and The Divine Comedy (Volume I - Inferno) by Dante as translated by Mark Musa. I enjoyed Pride and Prejudice but it took a long while to finish Divine Comedy.

As regards the others, they were from the Twisted series of books by Zafra which were all light reading, and yes, I loved all of them.

While waiting to board the plane going back to Toronto, I was glued to the Angels and Demons by Dan Brown but when I got inside the plane, sleeping was more inviting than reading.

So, since arriving home, I haven't opened the Dan Brown book. Chores such as laundry and yes, sleeping have taken priority.

I marvelled at how much junk I've accumulated, including receipts tucked inside my wallet. There was even a stub from the Ayala Museum where I went to see the Ring of Fire Exhibit. And a parking receipt from Shagri la where I went to watch two foreign films, Caravaggio and the Orient Express.

Unpacking was/is a nightmare, especially that of unloading dirty clothes. I was lucky I had regular laundry done in Manila so I have just few soiled clothes.

A friend emailed a day ago and asked "where are you?" I feel I just got resurrected; it's as if I was gone forever and I just woke up and was dreaming all along.

Finito. I shall open a new chapter in the Angels and Demons.

Autumn Works.

I'll be tumbling down and forth
In the piled leaves of autumn,
In the backyard lot

At night,

Like 'am a child of five.

I'll be howling at the dogs
And squinting at the cats
Be chasing the squirrels
And swearin' at the park.

I'm descending into childhood
In this quick, quick, quick step
My breath out of sync

My giggles couldn't stop.

I'm stupidly happy
I'm crazily mad
I've no explaining to do
I'm just out of my mind.

Blame it on the autumn

This cascading into bottom

Blame it on somethin'

Maybe the wild rum or beer

I'm just crazily a- glee

No matter what matters now

I'm ready to be

No matter what it'll be.

Ready and Able.

How long has it been since I last cuddled my dog, Shadow (aka Spike)? Almost three months ago.

My sis from Ohio, Shadow's original Mom and owner, called to say 'Hi," and to ask when I will pick up the mini-pin. Actually, my bro-in-law to whom I've given temporary custody, was the one eagerly asking.

Apparently, Shadow, has been messing up their house, peeing where he shouldn't pee. But sis was quick to add that it is bro-in-law who's been spoiling Shadow.

So by American Thanksgiving, I'd be picking up my charge. I'm ready and able. It will be back to good 'ol days for me and for Shadow. Back to early morning and late afternoon walks.

But now that autumn is so upon us here in TO, I'm beginning to worry about the cooool mornings and evenings. Some days, Shadow would have to make do (pee and poo) in the balcony. Unless I can toilet train him.

Yet in the past, I've toilet trained him already. I placed his daytime "sleeping quarters" by the foot of the TV set (it was a dog sleeping basket with a huge blanket) and a big rug underneath it. So if it was emergency, Shadow peed on the rug and at the corner of the basket. If his emergency occurred an hour or so before morning walking time, he'd pee in the balcony, at the foot of the grocery cart where a thick pile of newspaper had been piled up.

What I cannot tame is Shadow's bravado. He's twenty something by dog age, so he's raring to experiment and ready to love and be loved. And sorry, I don't want him "fixed."

Whirlwind.

When it comes, not even Batman nor Superman could prevent it.

Like the recent Typhoon Ondoy, it could bring devastation or miraculous moments.

A Time for Us.

When I got news that my Mother died, it was almost 12:32 p.m. and I just finished a business meeting. It was a matter-of-fact text from a brother in law. He sent it to a niece, too. There was no pre-warning, no hello to prepare the recipient for the worst news. My younger sister phoned me a little later with a prepared pre-news spiel but I told her I got the news already.

Life is like that a lot of times. It does not prepare you for the good or bad times. It just happens.

Death, divorce, disaster, disappearance. Or maybe on the good side, lotto winning, love requited, loss reversed. These things didn't happen to me personally; some did. These are just examples of how people can be jolted out, happily or sadly.

After recent happenings in my life and around me, I am now more convinced than ever, a solid believer in "happenstance, serendipity and randomness."

There's a time for grieving and a time for rejoicing. There's a time for questioning and a time for reckoning. There's a time for anger and a time for healing. There's a time for pride and a time for humility. There's a time for love and a time for parting. There's a time for silence and a time for communication. There's a time for a tear and a time for a smile. There's always a time for love.

There's a time for us.

You're Being Processed.

LEFT - Where are the good times? Tommy Boy (+) and J-Lo were getting used to each other and then..


I got to Detroit's Wayne Airport at around 12:08 pm (Nov 16th). But my clock was still set to Narita time zone so I was a bit confused and thought I'd be late for my connecting flight to Toronto which was supposed to board at 1:20 pm.

I kept glancing at my watch while in the long queue of people being processed at the Port of Entry in Detroit. My watch read 2:20 pm. Then I asked the guy infront of me if he's got the local time. Yes he did. It was quarter to 1:00 pm.

So I had 35 minutes to clear Immigration and to run to Gate 26 for my connecting flight.

Arriving at a Port Of Entry in any place in the globe gives me an eerie feeling. I don't know why or what it is, but I have this weird feeling that I'm in a "temporary holding zone" where there's no specific time , it's neither day or night - just a zombie-like state where one is stamped on the head and declared fit and told to " go and live and forget your own body mass and time memories you've just been through. " It's like being back from the future.

It was good Canadians didn't have to be fingerprinted nor photographed, so it took all 2 minutes for me to clear Immigration. But I had to retrieve my luggage and re-check them and to be retrieved again at the Pearson International in Toronto.

I'm finally home.

I immediately checked the balcony and found J-Lo (aka Ugly Betty, the budgie) alone at the floor of the cage. Now that Tommy Boy is gone, J-Lo is back to being lonely.

Oh, What a Feeling!

My trip to Manila has come to its end.  Like Hilary Clinton, I'm leaving Manila.  Tomorrow, Monday, the 16th, I'm flying home to Toronto.  It is a "mind boggling" visit.  

First, it is the longest vacation I've ever taken since I left the homeland, except for the two-year stay in 2000-2002.  Two months and twelve days to be exact. 

Second, the circumstances of the visit are different.  It is not R & R.  It is a very personal journey.  I came to visit a mother who was seriously ill and who died three days before I was supposed to leave.

And on a higher and first-order level, I was seeking to unite with the Moon and the stars.

Third, Nature intervened.  Typhoon "Ondoy" swooped into Manila.  The Planets and the moon got disturbed and perturbed and left me wondering.  Maybe forever. 

The days became hazied.  I could not look ahead.  Like a conked-out car, my headlights got smashed, my rearview mirror fell off, my brakes faltered, my engine stalled. 

I got lost.  And I didn't even know where I took the wrong turn. My map and my itinerary were blown off...so suddenly. 

It is the eve of my departure.  Three days before my departure, I busily went out with various relatives.

Went to concert at the Captain's Bar in Mandarin to catch RJ Jacinto and Hadji Alejandro last Nov. 12, then on the 13th, nephew Alan invited me for dinner and night at the Metro Bar, and last night my three sisters and families checked out Conway at the Shangri La where the band Rock Revival provided good music.

Today was spent doing last minute packing; I didn't watch the Pacquiao and Cotto fight.

I'm sure I'd fall asleep the minute the plane takes off from the NAIA tomorrow morning.  I hope the weather would be beautiful for the take off.

Goodbye to all and you, have a pleasant dream.  

Not so current events.

During and post- interment family "unwinding."


Wonder of wonders. Whenever I'm in Manila, I suddenly lose interest in international politics.  Like now, Hilary Clinton is visiting Manila, and I just nod in remembrance that I have admired this Lady for a long time. I was rooting for her bid for the US Presidency during the last primary. 

Whatever happens to me in Manila that I lose touch with the outside world is explainable. Overload.

Too many relatives and loved ones who give attention to me and I give attention to.  Much food to ingest.

Too mess a traffic that eats time and robs you of moment to watch newscasts.  Too many Tagalog soaps that tie up the TV and prevent you from switching to CNN or BBC or lest you get choked by the other occupants of the house; or you yourself glance at "Sandino" from time to time. 

Then there's the useless but funny chit chat with siblings reminishing about childhood follies and life in the ancient times.  

And of course, you suddenly become enamored reading and watching about Erap, Gibo, Ate Glo, Chiz, Korina and Mar and Mr. Noynoy.  The sudden nationalismo makes you want to adopt dual citizenship. 

Then you hear music blasting out of the radio tuned in to DZRJ - music from the distant past of your teens and early adulthood - from the 70's and 80's: I Will Survive, Buttercup, You Know, Flying High, There's a Kind of Hush, more songs from the Beatles, Dave Clark Five, RJ and so on.  It's Manila memories all over.

So pardon me if I'm not interested in Wolf of CNN and Charles Gibson of ABC nor of Leno and Letterman

and Everybody Loves Raymond replays, and of Easy Rock radio in TO.

My current events now are not so current anymore.

Life Goes On.

A friend commented on how my sadness shows in the recent posts I published.  She was right.

But she was not correct in assuming that my "loneliness" brings me unhappiness. On the contrary, my sadness and want for solitude give me breathing space and ultimately regenerate my systems.

I am not depressed.  I am just naturally more at peace communing with the Self.

But the seeking of inner communion doesn't mean I abhor external communication. It is just a matter of choosing the company I go out with.

I love to dance and listen to good music.  I drink occasionally.  I love good movies.  I read quite a bit now.  And I write for my own pleasure. These are my joys. 

When I was still in school and it was time for exams, I would cram and think of the "after exams" scenario, and I would perk up instantly.

So no matter how difficult and grave the situation is, I always tell myself of the "after."

It lessens the worry; it makes for survival. 

I think that's what hope is all about.  When you can look into the 'morrow, and to the future.

That means you look forward.  And are not afraid to look back.  

Sometimes you look back because there were unfinished business left and opportunities which you somehow missed.  Another time, you tell yourself.  

You move on.  You come back. 

HolidayVille.

I can't help but feel sad when I hear Christmas carols.  Especially now while in Manila where the airwaves and even the malls are being ruled by "I'll be Home for Christmas" by the Carpenters.

And when I'm not in Manila and elsewhere in the Globe, Christmas carols always create a lump in my throat.

Yesterday while driving late from Cabanatuan, Nueva Ecija to Manila, we passed by stalls along the Highway selling Christmas lanterns and decors.  What a beautiful sight!  

In Toronto, people start to light their Christmas lights and trees much later, usually first week of December and for some Anglos, putting up the Tree may even be as late as Christmas Eve. 

But thank God, there is one FM station in TO which plays dedicated Christmas carols starting December 1st.

The lack of Toronto radio stations playing carols prompted me to stack up on Christmas CD's. So I have Carols by Glen Miller, Frank Sinatra, the NY Symphony, a Brass Christmas CD, a vocal Christmas CD, one from the Cloistered Nuns of the Poor Clares of Alabama, and two Tagalog Christmas instrumentals.

I'm leaving very soon and will be back in Canada.  I'll spend the Holidays there.  

The planets didn't align.  But last night while driving along the dark highways, the sky was ruled by a Half Moon.

" I'll be looking at the moon and I'll be seeing you."

I Need My Blues.

I don't mean Blues as in music genre; I meant my alone-ness, my solitude.

True.  While in Manila, the ever presence of relatives and friends and the many places and eateries to go to may divert one's attention from the Self. But the longing for solitude, that precious time with one's inner soul lingers on.

I need time alone.  When I can just relax and read and think.

When I was new in Ohio, some younger folks thought I was aloof (anti-social was the word some used). But I was just a new guy in town and the eerie silence of a small Midwest town was deafening and ironic as it was, I was looking for the homegrown night action and gigs, and the "loudness and craziness" of Manila. The HotDogs song Manila  "hinahanap hanap kita Manila, ang ingay mong masakit sa tenga," rang true.

But those many years living in the US and then in Canada inevitably dug into the system. And then, there was my latent sadness and seeking for alone-ness which meant peace and happiness to me. 

I need my blues.  I need to dream. 

KSP Cars and Others.

I remember when I had my first car, a Ford Brenda, and my father told me that owning a car is like having a family.  It is expensive maintaining one. 

After the Ford Brenda, I drove a Beetle.  

And I discovered through the years that I've owned car/s that my father was indeed correct.  Owning and maintaining a car is quite expensive.

Travelling at opposite ends of Manila - Quezon City, Makati, Manila, Paranaque, Pasig, Sta. Ana - is hazardous to one's pocket.  Gasoline is costly.  My full tank costs me at least 2,500 pesos and it lasts two days.  In Toronto, my full tank costs me at least $40-60 CDN.

Then there's the oil change, and other maintenance costs - coolants, brake fluid, transmission fluid, wheel alignment and balance, and batteries.

I have sharp ears when it comes to noise coming from inside and outside of my car - I hear everything.

Then I would think about it. And thinking leads to action and leads to expense.

Like today, I had a wheel alignment done, coolants bought, minor repair.  Plus car wash, and other accessories bought. 

A child seeking attention and compensation from lack of parental attention would have asked for toys - dolls, Playstation, etc.   A car prompts an owner into action without the machine asking for attention. 

I hear the phrase KSP all the time and when I asked what it meant, I was told Kulang sa pansin. 

A car which is kulang sa pansin will bring misery to its owner in the long run.  Which reminds me how I oftentimes suffer from KSP, too. 

Mercy!

After All Has Been Said and Done.

Collage taken from Alan Pagkanlungan Ravalo's Album.

We laid to rest our beloved Mother on Wednesday, November 4th. It was raining when we reached the Aglipayan Church in Mandaluyong where she was given a special blessing.

At the funeral home in Sanctuarium, she had a daily evening Catholic Mass officiated by the friendly chaplain, Fr. Richard.

I recorded several of the masses and the viewing but when we got to the cemetery, my video cam just sent me a message "error." So when I finally viewed my recording, there was nothing recorded at the Aglipayan Church and at the cemetery, but everything else was intact.

I suspect my mother was sort of jealous that I was busy camcording when I should have been grieving properly for her.

Of course, I was grieving. And still am. We all are.

I should have left for Canada on the 3rd of November, but Nanay passed away on the 3oth almost after noon. She probably thought that I would not be able to come back to P.I. if she left this world after Oct. 3oth so she chose to depart before I flew home to Toronto.

When my father died in 2000, I just barely arrived from Toronto.

Everything has been said and done. The final rites, the final goodbyes, the final tears.

We tried to take care of Nanay the best way we could. In the end, she chose to leave at noon
and the evening prior to that, my sister Josie said Mother was at her "best behaviour - at peace."

All has been said and done. But the love and memories will linger and stay forever.

The Silence of Saints.

It was eerie-ly quiet, the streets of Quezon City. Elliptical Road was less dizzying. Quezon Avenue was clear and passable. It was All Saints' Day, November 1st.

I have not celebrated All Saints' Day in Manila for so many years, until yesterday. I went to visit my father's grave and those of other relatives days ahead. So yesterday, I stayed where my mother's body is interred.

Death in a family brings relatives and friends together. Cousin Nina and niece Minet, whom I haven't seen in ages came and so did Tia Sol, and cousin Baby.

"Maliit ka pa nuon," is often heard. "Ilan na ang anak mo, ang apo mo?" too.

"Lamay sa patay," or viewing as it is called in North America, is a unique practise we, Pinoys and also the Chinoys, have.

In the funeral house, I see beautiful and colorful Chinese decors in front of the chapel where a Chinoy is interred. There are Christian and Buddhist ceremonies going on almost every night.

I see food trays being brought continuously. Pinoys and Chinoys share the tradition of feeding their loved ones lavishly. In Canada, Pinoys don't lose this tradition.

During the viewing days, Pinoys feed the people who come along, and especially after the funeral.
My sister prepared a collage - pictures of our mother, with us, with her friends, with our father.

She's beautiful as ever. My Mom.

Bye Beloved Mom.

Below, Nanay (Gloria Torres Fajardo Pagkanlungan)

We bid you adieu in the fall month up North,

Amidst the monsoon rain in Manila,

In the deepest warmth of our hearts,

We say bye beloved Nanay

Within the silence of our hearts,

We cry, yes, but rejoice

For the fullness of your life.

We thank you

We love you

We praise you

We'd miss you

We'll see you, always

In the eyes of one another

In the smiles of your apos

In the stillness of your room

In the joys we'd remember of our childhood

And all the years with you.

We bid you goodbye, dear Nanay.

Eternal love and peace

Be unto you.