I was crying…

I was crying yesterday, the way I had never ever cried before. I was reaching out  from the depths of my soul, wailing to my God to make me feel better, eradicate the ugly things that happened, and give me the grace to live a more beautiful life with the people I love.

I was driving alone when I succumbed to that crying, coursing my way to the train station, to fetch my daughter. I was not able to totally control myself when my daughter hopped inside the van. And she asked, why are you crying, ma? And I told her how all the pains and regrets of the past had taken a strain on me. And she listened, quietly, all her twenty years, absorbing what her mother was crying about… Then she whispered “Ma, it is time to go to the Blessed Sacrament.”  And we did, stayed there till eleven in the evening, not saying anything, just listening to the silence, and looking at our Lord, remembering the sacrifice He made for us…

Thanks Jean. I love you. And thank you Jesus…

What a journey it has been…

Twenty years. That was how long since I last opened the two thick photo albums I made for myself.  The first one showcased pictures from about the time I was a little girl in ribbons to just about the time I was a teacher to high school sophomores. The second one featured more photos of the activities I was passionate about namely: photography, travel, anything related to love of country, having fun with family and friends, and education.

The photographs brought back happy memories of course, for that was the time of my life, when my world was full of laughter and dreams… I was young, and I couldn’t be more carefree.

When I shelved my albums two decades ago, only to be touched when I had to put them in a box because I had to move on to another dwelling place, I didn’t know that I would be closing the story of my youth and leave behind things I enjoyed doing most.  Life had become very different after I made those two albums, the only thing that remained constant perhaps is my being alone in my life’s journey.  Oh well, I suppose that when everything is said and done about my life, I could say, too, what a journey it has been…

A response to a yahoo clip by kuro-kuro community a year ago…

Here’s a response I wrote about President Aquino. Just discovered this when I googled my own name, LOL!
Posted by unregistered user: Eileen Leyva

I was already disheartened when the candidates for the presidency were letting us know of their intent to run. I was praying on bended knees that God grants us someone who would be sincere and honest enough to alleviate this country from poverty, corruption, greed, false pride, and whatever disillusion that prevents our people and our land from progressing. When Tita Cory died, my hope died, too. It was only her that makes me gather up my courage and believe that everything will be well. When Noynoy was urged to run after his mother was laid to rest, I felt goosebumps on my skin! Could he be God’s answer to my prayers? It did not take me long to meditate upon it. I started lecturing my daughters and my young kin about Ninoy and Cory. My lessons ended even before Noynoy decided to go on a retreat in the South. The only argument that I received was “but he is not as talkative and as charming as Kris…” I told them to wait and see, the son will also rise…
Well, now our younglings are simply arguing about what language President Noy should use. He gets bulol in Tagalog. But that does not mean his Tagalog is not deep. My daughter said he is not just president but Filipino teacher as well. And his command of English is like listening to a new Ninoy.
I am grateful already for the spring cleaning PNoy had done in just over two months of incumbency. For now, I would just like to say “Knock the UN dead, Noy!” and “Godspeed on your journey back home!”
Pasalubong ha! ❤

POSTED 1 YEAR AGO #