Prolonged singleness can seem like the magic of being sawn in half without obvious wound.
It is like a cut that hurts but does not bleed. It is like falling from a great height without only internal injuries. Prolonged singleness is a loss that is not a loss, and thus it is a pain that we are not allowed to feel or mourn.
Here, in the ‘tween’ time, we who are single must face the difficult task of resting and hoping, of contentment tinged with dissatisfaction. What seeks to unearth us is the uncertainty of our situation. Life seems to involve few answers and a multitude of questions. We stand on a Rock that is Christ but our fears, howling with the wind, cry out:
“Will I ever be married (again)?”
“Does God WANT me to marry?”
“Is God punishing me for my past?”
“Should I wait for so-and-so or should I move on?”
“Should I just settle for anyone?”
“Are my standards too high?”
“Am I already too old?”
And the most brutal of all …“What’s wrong with me?”
The questions are the seeds of frustration that only deepen over time. Time marches on, and we battle not only the loss of hope but also the loss of “what might have been.” Because, to marry now is almost certainly to never have a marriage of fifty or forty or thirty years in which memories on memories are stacked and stowed away for rainy days.
It means never having the husband or wife of our youth because our youth is behind us. It means giving up some dreams like children of our own. It is a loss as any loss and perhaps more perplexing for its very ambiguity—it is a loss that is not a loss.
It does not count as a loss because it cannot be tallied, cannot be weighed, cannot be measured, scanned, or sorted and yet it is real. Somewhere in the heart of each of us the future is as real as the present and the past. We each live life purposed towards things that are as yet—not REAL! For those living in prolonged singleness, each year seems to steal from a storehouse of hopes and dreams of what might have been.
Ambiguous loss stems from the uncertainty of the loss, the uncertainty that accompanies a traumatic event that has no closure. Pauline Boss, the author of Ambiguous Loss, wrote, “Most people need the concrete experience of seeing the body of a loved one who has died because it makes the loss real” (26). It seems that our dreams have died but where is the body? We have no closure because, while we live, hope still exists.
The single suffers a real dying of sorts, a real hoped for life that, in dying, must be mourned. But it is the ambiguity of the situation that makes this process so difficult. We dare not be premature in making the funeral arrangements. We dare not prepare the eulogy while hope exists. Yet life is lived perilously if it is lived in the in-between—in that gap between what is real and what is hoped for.
The hard thing is to move on, to accept with joy the place in which life finds us, and to accept that God is still with us, still blessing us. But being told to “move on” feels like giving up and I cannot give up while my desire exists. “Move on” feels like surrender and I am a fighter. But what if “moving on” meant finishing the race in whatever state God gives me—even with a limp? What if it means running alone and hoping another committed soul joins me along the way? This I can do. This I am doing.
There are greater truths than the burden of our singleness. Even the married must reconcile the demise of dreams and come to stand on that which is certain. If we seek relationships for love there is the ultimate love of God. If we seek relationships for companionship, then there is the extended family of God. If we seek relationships for children, then there are the orphans of the world. But each of these, while good, is no substitute for the real longing. What our heart craves cannot be dismissed, masked, or replaced but perhaps we can learn to live and thrive even in the midst of the loss.
Boss wrote, “The uncertainty prevents people from adjusting to the ambiguity of their loss by reorganizing the roles and rules of their relationships. …” Not knowing whether we will be married tomorrow, next year, or ever, can paralyze. We must reorganize the roles and rules of our relationships in order that our hunger does not make us ravenous wolves. But the uncertainty leaves us confused. We must reorganize the roles and rules of our relationships so that, as singles, we return to our sense of worth in living.
I do not like to think that I “bear the burden of singleness” as though it were a scar or a curse. Rather, I walk the path of singleness. My role in the community, in life, is determined by the call from God to love Him, love my neighbor, and to consider others as better than myself. While these are the qualities that make a good husband, that make a good wife, I pursue them because they benefit me as a single—because they are good.
My relationships are not determined by my singleness. I do not approach every woman, first, on the basis of her availability but under the command to “love one another.” I do not reject the company of those who are not “possibilities.” I am not immune but I define my relationships on the basis of the greater love in Christ and build friendships because they are worth their weight in gold.
Given the sorrow I sometimes feel, I take God’s promise to heart. With all the years gone by and the feeling that my spring has turned to summer, and summer to winter, I cling to His words, “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten—the great locust and the young locust, the other locusts and the locust swarm” (Joel 2:25). The longing can seem like a swarm sometimes. Yet we cannot live for what might be tomorrow. We don’t know His mind completely. We know only that He loves us and will bless us. What form that blessing will take we are not told. What we have is today; a today filled with flowers, and rainbows, waterfalls, kittens, and so many people in need of love.
Today’s certainty is found in the one who is pure of heart, who calls us saying, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28).
I am weary but cannot relinquish hope. I am burdened and long for rest. So, I will go to Him and sit quietly near Him; my tears wetting his feet. My comfort is knowing that He is, “gentle and humble in heart.” There I will find rest for my weary soul. Of this I am certain for He says, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:30).
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
A Loss That Is Not a Loss - Part 1 by Hudson Russell Davis Crosswalk.com Contributing Writer
Something I read from a friend's facebook account and wanted to share on this page:
I sing songs when I am lonely, and I cry when it hurts. Yet that which plagues me, my specter, is ephemeral—it lacks substance, lacks shape, and lacks form.
It is a shadow; a longing and expectation fueled by desire and sustained by hope. It makes it difficult for me to explain my sorrow to those who would comfort me in a way that they understand. I mourn a loss that is not a loss—an ambiguous loss.
Psychologists use the term “ambiguous loss” to explain the sorrow all human beings experience in the face of traumatic circumstances and it is everywhere. The mother whose son has been kidnapped pleads with the kidnappers, “Just tell me if my boy is alright!” Ambiguous loss! In New Orleans, they buried the last unclaimed body from Hurricane Katrina on the third anniversary of that disaster and somewhere a family wonders if their loved one is still alive. Ambiguous loss!
The book, Ambiguous Loss: Learning to Live With Unresolved Grief, has been a balm to my soul. Just seeing the title I thought, “That’s it! Finally what I feel has a name. Finally the pain of singleness has some describable grounding.” The single, too, must learn to live with unresolved grief. The chapters made sense for the single life: “Frozen Grief,” “Leaving Without Goodbye,” “Goodbye Without Leaving,” “Mixed Emotions,” “Ups and Downs,” “The Turning Point,” “Making Sense of Ambiguity,” and finally “The Benefit of a Doubt.”
“Frozen Grief” describes a situation in which the loss is unnamed or unnamable. It describes a situation in which the mind considers whether it is right or whether it is time to mourn? “Goodbye Without Leaving” explains the confused sorrow we face when a loved one slips slowly away due to illness or—old age. That person is there, but not there. “Mixed Emotions” correspond to being content but not satisfied. The others are somewhat self-explanatory. All these fall under the heading “ambiguous loss”—a loss that is not a loss and thus difficult to mourn.
For the single, ambiguous loss takes the form of longing for a person who is not there and a family that does not (as yet) exist. The divorced single must face both the longing for what might be and the sorrow of what might have been. Both share the sorrow that is not only difficult to define but difficult to resolve, a loss that is difficult to mourn—a loss that is not a loss.
As with the wife of the soldier who is MIA, singles struggle to keep hope alive, to dream and to keep from growing cynical in the process of waiting. Singles also struggle because, while rejoicing with those who rejoice, they must constantly wonder why their dreams and hopes remain unfulfilled. Growing older, they mourn as though something has escaped their grasp. And yet, because marriage is still possible, because hope still exists, they cannot really say goodbye, cannot really give up or mourn the loss as a loss. It is a loss that is not a loss. Which makes hope a struggle and a proper goodbye—impossible.
There are two reasons, the book suggests, why ambiguous loss is so devastating to a person’s well-being. First: “Perceiving loved ones as present when they are physically gone, or perceiving them as gone when they are physically present, can make people feel helpless and thus more prone to depression, anxiety” (7). Secondly: “The uncertainty prevents people from adjusting to the ambiguity of their loss by reorganizing the roles and rules of their relationships…” This is compounded, the author adds, because “meaningful connections can’t happen if people in the community never validate and ambiguous loss as a traumatic loss” (79).
The first point is true because “the loss is confusing” and because the uncertainty is baffling. The ambiguity paralyzes. We are unable to make sense of the situation. We can’t problem-solve because we do not know whether the problem (the loss) “is final or temporary” (7).
The single, called to “prepare for marriage,” must perceive “loved ones as present” though in reality they are not. So the woman who has, for years, walked the aisle in her head can smell the roses on the pews and hear the wedding march in her ears. Marriage is as real to her as the air she breathes. She can hardly differentiate the possibilities that have been lost to time from what never was. Having never been married, she feels like a widow. How is she to mourn what has never been and who will listen without rebuke?
The man who longs to play ball with his son or know the comfort of his little girl’s arms works as though he is already supporting his family. He saves and plans and prepares and approaches despair at the thought that, for all his responsible planning, he may leave it all to someone other than his posterity. He may not have visualized his wedding but neither did he imagine he would be alone for so long.
There are mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers, aunts and uncles, mourning children they hoped for by now to have spoiled rotten. We are not alone in our fears of growing old alone. Our parents, too, want to see us cared for and they, too, know the baffling sorrow of ambiguous loss.
All must find a way to store these desires without burying them; to nurture them without allowing them to become household gods—idols. There is an inexplicable loss that is not a loss. There is a sorrow that seems unfounded and yet it is a real sorrow and a real loss—an ambiguous loss that must be mourned.
There are many ways to cope with ambiguous loss but trying to master the confusion, attempting to harness the wind, will lead to disaster and certain depression. Our enemy is not flesh and blood that we cannot throw it to the ground and beat it into submission. Neither can we, by the power of our will, reason it away. For now this confused longing and loss is something we must live with and even thrive within.
“Be still and know that I am God,” means simply, “If you know that I am God you will cease your struggle.” He is God. Let us be still. “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” BECAUSE OF THIS “we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea.”
“He lifts his voice, the earth melts.”
“The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.”
“Come and see the works of the LORD … He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth …” and He will make the wars within us to cease.
Our comfort in the midst of ambiguity is the certainty that God sees our need and is concerned. “Indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep” (Psa. 121:4). BECAUSE OF THIS—we can be still. “The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress” (Psa. 46). In this there is no ambiguity.
I sing songs when I am lonely, and I cry when it hurts. Yet that which plagues me, my specter, is ephemeral—it lacks substance, lacks shape, and lacks form.
It is a shadow; a longing and expectation fueled by desire and sustained by hope. It makes it difficult for me to explain my sorrow to those who would comfort me in a way that they understand. I mourn a loss that is not a loss—an ambiguous loss.
Psychologists use the term “ambiguous loss” to explain the sorrow all human beings experience in the face of traumatic circumstances and it is everywhere. The mother whose son has been kidnapped pleads with the kidnappers, “Just tell me if my boy is alright!” Ambiguous loss! In New Orleans, they buried the last unclaimed body from Hurricane Katrina on the third anniversary of that disaster and somewhere a family wonders if their loved one is still alive. Ambiguous loss!
The book, Ambiguous Loss: Learning to Live With Unresolved Grief, has been a balm to my soul. Just seeing the title I thought, “That’s it! Finally what I feel has a name. Finally the pain of singleness has some describable grounding.” The single, too, must learn to live with unresolved grief. The chapters made sense for the single life: “Frozen Grief,” “Leaving Without Goodbye,” “Goodbye Without Leaving,” “Mixed Emotions,” “Ups and Downs,” “The Turning Point,” “Making Sense of Ambiguity,” and finally “The Benefit of a Doubt.”
“Frozen Grief” describes a situation in which the loss is unnamed or unnamable. It describes a situation in which the mind considers whether it is right or whether it is time to mourn? “Goodbye Without Leaving” explains the confused sorrow we face when a loved one slips slowly away due to illness or—old age. That person is there, but not there. “Mixed Emotions” correspond to being content but not satisfied. The others are somewhat self-explanatory. All these fall under the heading “ambiguous loss”—a loss that is not a loss and thus difficult to mourn.
For the single, ambiguous loss takes the form of longing for a person who is not there and a family that does not (as yet) exist. The divorced single must face both the longing for what might be and the sorrow of what might have been. Both share the sorrow that is not only difficult to define but difficult to resolve, a loss that is difficult to mourn—a loss that is not a loss.
As with the wife of the soldier who is MIA, singles struggle to keep hope alive, to dream and to keep from growing cynical in the process of waiting. Singles also struggle because, while rejoicing with those who rejoice, they must constantly wonder why their dreams and hopes remain unfulfilled. Growing older, they mourn as though something has escaped their grasp. And yet, because marriage is still possible, because hope still exists, they cannot really say goodbye, cannot really give up or mourn the loss as a loss. It is a loss that is not a loss. Which makes hope a struggle and a proper goodbye—impossible.
There are two reasons, the book suggests, why ambiguous loss is so devastating to a person’s well-being. First: “Perceiving loved ones as present when they are physically gone, or perceiving them as gone when they are physically present, can make people feel helpless and thus more prone to depression, anxiety” (7). Secondly: “The uncertainty prevents people from adjusting to the ambiguity of their loss by reorganizing the roles and rules of their relationships…” This is compounded, the author adds, because “meaningful connections can’t happen if people in the community never validate and ambiguous loss as a traumatic loss” (79).
The first point is true because “the loss is confusing” and because the uncertainty is baffling. The ambiguity paralyzes. We are unable to make sense of the situation. We can’t problem-solve because we do not know whether the problem (the loss) “is final or temporary” (7).
The single, called to “prepare for marriage,” must perceive “loved ones as present” though in reality they are not. So the woman who has, for years, walked the aisle in her head can smell the roses on the pews and hear the wedding march in her ears. Marriage is as real to her as the air she breathes. She can hardly differentiate the possibilities that have been lost to time from what never was. Having never been married, she feels like a widow. How is she to mourn what has never been and who will listen without rebuke?
The man who longs to play ball with his son or know the comfort of his little girl’s arms works as though he is already supporting his family. He saves and plans and prepares and approaches despair at the thought that, for all his responsible planning, he may leave it all to someone other than his posterity. He may not have visualized his wedding but neither did he imagine he would be alone for so long.
There are mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers, aunts and uncles, mourning children they hoped for by now to have spoiled rotten. We are not alone in our fears of growing old alone. Our parents, too, want to see us cared for and they, too, know the baffling sorrow of ambiguous loss.
All must find a way to store these desires without burying them; to nurture them without allowing them to become household gods—idols. There is an inexplicable loss that is not a loss. There is a sorrow that seems unfounded and yet it is a real sorrow and a real loss—an ambiguous loss that must be mourned.
There are many ways to cope with ambiguous loss but trying to master the confusion, attempting to harness the wind, will lead to disaster and certain depression. Our enemy is not flesh and blood that we cannot throw it to the ground and beat it into submission. Neither can we, by the power of our will, reason it away. For now this confused longing and loss is something we must live with and even thrive within.
“Be still and know that I am God,” means simply, “If you know that I am God you will cease your struggle.” He is God. Let us be still. “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” BECAUSE OF THIS “we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea.”
“He lifts his voice, the earth melts.”
“The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.”
“Come and see the works of the LORD … He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth …” and He will make the wars within us to cease.
Our comfort in the midst of ambiguity is the certainty that God sees our need and is concerned. “Indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep” (Psa. 121:4). BECAUSE OF THIS—we can be still. “The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress” (Psa. 46). In this there is no ambiguity.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Quotes, courtesy of "Criminal Minds"
I like watching "Criminal Minds". It's a series (I think it's in CBS) focusing on the cases, personal trials and tribulations of the members of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. They travel all over the America, working with the local townsfolk, and helping them create the profile of the criminal, or as they coin it in the show the "unsub" (unknown subject). In knowing the profile of the unsub, it allows the police to know what to look for as they chase/pursue the perpretrator of the crimes committed against humanity.
What makes me appreciate watching Criminal Minds? Aside from the fact that I like watching these kinds of shows (anything that has to do with detective work, catching criminals, etc), I find the format of the show interesting. How so? At the beginning of each episode, the show would start off with a quote, with one of the characters reciting it through a voice-over. The quotes can range from the works of Plato, Socrates to Martin Luther King, Gandhi, even the Bible. Often these quote would serve as the theme of the show.
With the episode I was watching the yesternight, their featured quote is: "It is better to create art without a public, than to create art for a public and lose your self."
Something to think about? Sure does.
'til next time.
Carpe diem!
What makes me appreciate watching Criminal Minds? Aside from the fact that I like watching these kinds of shows (anything that has to do with detective work, catching criminals, etc), I find the format of the show interesting. How so? At the beginning of each episode, the show would start off with a quote, with one of the characters reciting it through a voice-over. The quotes can range from the works of Plato, Socrates to Martin Luther King, Gandhi, even the Bible. Often these quote would serve as the theme of the show.
With the episode I was watching the yesternight, their featured quote is: "It is better to create art without a public, than to create art for a public and lose your self."
Something to think about? Sure does.
'til next time.
Carpe diem!
Monday, December 21, 2009
Challenges
How do you strike a balance between what your mind wants to do and has decided on with playing smart? I don't know if you know what I mean, but I am referring to the game called politics. How do you play the game, survive, and not lose yourself in the process?
This is my current challenge.
As they say, as you climb the ladder, the stakes get higher as well. The playing field has been leveled-off and you're off to play a totally new game. What worked in the previous level (or in your previous circumstance/situation) may not necessarily apply or work in the new level that you're in. Take note, the players are tougher, stronger, even meaner.
As I've played the game, I've always trusted my instincts, kept my cool and did what I had to do to survive. But as I said, now that I'm on a different playing field, the rules have changed.
All of a sudden, I started second-guessing myself. I know what I am capable and incapable of doing, but this time, it's about stepping out of your comfort zone, taking risks. Sometimes, it seems as though I am thrown into a situation I know nothing of, not my area of responsibility, etc, etc. It's sink or swim, right? So I swam. I survived, thank God, but I was bruised all over. My survival depended on how I reacted to my stimuli, and manuevered my way around. It went well, but I didn't like the idea that I had no plan, no offensive move. I was not the one in control of the situation, but the situation took control of me. I reacted based on what was thrown at me and I didn't like that.
They say that you cannot control everything in your life. True. But I've always lived on this premise and I realized, sometimes, you can.
How much I try to be independent-minded, it dawned on me that when I am outside the confines of my home, others seem to dictate little things in my life (what to bring to a party, etc.). Still, in terms of big decisions, I am the master of my destiny not others.
I veered off topic.
All I'm trying to say is.. I am afraid I'm losing myself. And I'm fighting to keep it.
'til next time.
This is my current challenge.
As they say, as you climb the ladder, the stakes get higher as well. The playing field has been leveled-off and you're off to play a totally new game. What worked in the previous level (or in your previous circumstance/situation) may not necessarily apply or work in the new level that you're in. Take note, the players are tougher, stronger, even meaner.
As I've played the game, I've always trusted my instincts, kept my cool and did what I had to do to survive. But as I said, now that I'm on a different playing field, the rules have changed.
All of a sudden, I started second-guessing myself. I know what I am capable and incapable of doing, but this time, it's about stepping out of your comfort zone, taking risks. Sometimes, it seems as though I am thrown into a situation I know nothing of, not my area of responsibility, etc, etc. It's sink or swim, right? So I swam. I survived, thank God, but I was bruised all over. My survival depended on how I reacted to my stimuli, and manuevered my way around. It went well, but I didn't like the idea that I had no plan, no offensive move. I was not the one in control of the situation, but the situation took control of me. I reacted based on what was thrown at me and I didn't like that.
They say that you cannot control everything in your life. True. But I've always lived on this premise and I realized, sometimes, you can.
How much I try to be independent-minded, it dawned on me that when I am outside the confines of my home, others seem to dictate little things in my life (what to bring to a party, etc.). Still, in terms of big decisions, I am the master of my destiny not others.
I veered off topic.
All I'm trying to say is.. I am afraid I'm losing myself. And I'm fighting to keep it.
'til next time.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Embarrassingly..
.... I reviewed my previous post and my God! I had some terrible grammar issues to address! If my boss saw what I did, I would've had an hour-long (or so) review lecture on the rules of correct grammar and proper usage of words. Imagine my big boss: a sixty-plus year old with short hair, specs, still feisty and gregarious for her age, giving a lecture on proper use of the English language, but add a stick to her hand. Thank God she's not able to read what I just wrote. I might've been up for a whipping... whew...
Realizing my faux-pas reaffirms and strengthens a resolve: reading. I have read some write-ups, commentaries on Facebook, etc. A lot of good people have a lot of good thoughts and are very expressive in articulating their thoughts and putting it down on paper. Well, in this case, typing it on the screen via keyboard. Expressive as the writing may be, we sometimes tend to forget (maybe just a little) in ensuring the correct usage of the words.
I've heard a number of people argue on the premise that, the grammar may not be linenly-perfect, but the important thing is, we get to convey our thoughts and get the message to the receiver. Point well taken. I've used that argument as well whenever I've had grammar slip-ups. Mind you, I'm already in my 30s and I still make mistakes in my grammar. And even if I was really good at it, I'm not going to ride the high horse and lord my expertise over the others. That's just not my style.
Anyhow, however hard we try to argue the 'expression versus form' argument, I have to hand it to our big boss for allowing me to realize that grammar is still important, no matter how hard we try to beat around the bush claiming it's secondary. It is still important. Just imagine, writing to an application letter to a university or for a job, with the tenses and the words of one's letter have no logic nor coherence whatsoever. Old school as our big boss may be, she has a point, too.
Sigh..... I guess this is also a wake-up call for me to read, read, read, read and read more. I've been neglectful on my reading.
A disclaimer: I'm not giving a lecture on grammar, let that be clear. I'm also expressing some of my thoughts. My grammar can be horrible at times, too, but we can all correct ourselves and learn together, can't we? :)
'til next time.
Carpe diem!
Realizing my faux-pas reaffirms and strengthens a resolve: reading. I have read some write-ups, commentaries on Facebook, etc. A lot of good people have a lot of good thoughts and are very expressive in articulating their thoughts and putting it down on paper. Well, in this case, typing it on the screen via keyboard. Expressive as the writing may be, we sometimes tend to forget (maybe just a little) in ensuring the correct usage of the words.
I've heard a number of people argue on the premise that, the grammar may not be linenly-perfect, but the important thing is, we get to convey our thoughts and get the message to the receiver. Point well taken. I've used that argument as well whenever I've had grammar slip-ups. Mind you, I'm already in my 30s and I still make mistakes in my grammar. And even if I was really good at it, I'm not going to ride the high horse and lord my expertise over the others. That's just not my style.
Anyhow, however hard we try to argue the 'expression versus form' argument, I have to hand it to our big boss for allowing me to realize that grammar is still important, no matter how hard we try to beat around the bush claiming it's secondary. It is still important. Just imagine, writing to an application letter to a university or for a job, with the tenses and the words of one's letter have no logic nor coherence whatsoever. Old school as our big boss may be, she has a point, too.
Sigh..... I guess this is also a wake-up call for me to read, read, read, read and read more. I've been neglectful on my reading.
A disclaimer: I'm not giving a lecture on grammar, let that be clear. I'm also expressing some of my thoughts. My grammar can be horrible at times, too, but we can all correct ourselves and learn together, can't we? :)
'til next time.
Carpe diem!
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Quick entry: changed the name of my blog
Just a quick entry. When I started this blog, I had no idea what I was supposed to do, what to name it, etc, etc. It was all a spur of the moment thingy.
Later, it dawned on me. I've been writing stuff for the longest time and it's saved under the file name "Amelia Earheart and her wings". So I then decided to continue it, and perhaps, include some of the stuff I wrote there in this blog...
I hope you like the new name. Personally, I do. :)
'Til next time.
Carpe diem!
Later, it dawned on me. I've been writing stuff for the longest time and it's saved under the file name "Amelia Earheart and her wings". So I then decided to continue it, and perhaps, include some of the stuff I wrote there in this blog...
I hope you like the new name. Personally, I do. :)
'Til next time.
Carpe diem!
Monday, December 7, 2009
Filcom Christmas Party, 6 December 2009 and in memoriam
I was planning to do my entry yesterday after coming back from our workplace. We had our Christmas party together with the other members of the Filipino community (Filcom for short) here in Beijing. Really planned to, but I was sooooo tired when I got home, so I am doing it today.
As I mentioned, we had the Filcom Christmas party yesterday. I attended the same party a couple of years ago, but back then, I was just a student living on a small stipend here in Beijing. This is technically my second Christmas away from home, but my first under the auspices of my posting.
It was also something I look forward to because there were Pinoys who put up their stalls, selling Pinoy food and goodies, shirts and the like. As a tradition, the Pinoy bands rendered their respective numbers, the Embassy personnel performed a Battle of the Brainless skit (as a backgrounder, there was a gameshow back in the Philippines called Battle of the Brains. Comedians made a spoof out of this gameshow and called it Battle of the Brainless, wherein all the contestants would give wrong answers and nobody guesses it right eventually. What makes it funny is that these 'contestants' really believe that their answers are correct. If you are able to understand Filipino culture, you'll find this hilarious), a Christmas carol contest, parlor games for kids and adults, and of course, a raffle with the grand prize of an round-trip ticket from Beijing to Manila and back!
As the bands performed, the audiences were moving to the beat of the music and made the hall all lively, hen renao as they say in Chinese.
Thankfully, the crowd was receptive to the Battle of the Brainless skit. But while preparing for it, I really wished that the earth would open up and I'd hide inside it during the duration of the performance. It's nice to be on stage, but of late, I've become more of a backstage kind of a person. But it's nice to be back in the limelight, once in a while. ;)
The parlor games went well, thank God. The kids were all eager to participate and were all looking forward to the goodies they will receive after winning the game. It was always nice to see whenever they play the "Bring Me" game. Everybody was scrambling just to find what they need to 'bring' the gameshow host. Then we had the games for the adults, which was also fun. The adults played a game we called "Pinoy Henyo", or Filipino genius in English. This is a game played in pairs. One will wear a hat with a word pasted to it. He/she needs to guess what that word is. To do so, he/she will ask questions answerable only by yes, no and maybe. His/her partner will be the one responding to the questions and the person wearing the hat will formulate the answer based on the answers to his/her questions. Sounds complicated? It's pretty easy. There's also a catch. The players are given 2 minutes to guess it, and the pair who were able to guess the word correctly in the least amount of time wins. Honestly speaking, eventhough I was not the one participating in the game, I had fun. I was glad to see the crowd cheering at the players as they went through the game. Tired as I was, I was smiling inside.
And we also had the Christmas caroling contest, which comprised of 4 groups. They sang melodiously and performed with much gusto. I was kinda pleased that we had a Christmas caroling segment. It gave people a chance to do and strut their thing during this time of the year. Besides, when they were singing Tagalog Christmas songs and the audience were singing to it. Busy as I was running around with errands and preparations and all, I remembered my aunt, whom we all call Ate, since she was the eldest of the siblings.
It's been 2 years since her passing. Happy as I am with the Yuletide season, it also brings in a sad feeling. Though she was not my mom, but I grew up with her in the same household for past 29 years of my life. She looked forward to Christmas, for Ate was the one who takes charge of decorating our house back in Manila. Every year, she would inject new ideas, additions on how our decorations were traditionally ornated or placed. She also had her specialty dish every Noche Buena. It has been 2 years. Our family have mourned and grieved her loss, moved on. We've accepted the fact that sad as we are for the loss, we also have to live our lives and be grateful that everyday, we get the chance to do what we weren't able to the day before, the chance to start over, realize our mistakes, make amends, take risks, love, get hurt, but love again.
Yes, it has been 2 years. Christmas is not the same, but this is also a chance for me to create my own memories of Christmas with my new life here in Beijing.
I don't know why, but I was just planning on writing about the Christmas party yesterday then all of a sudden, my writing shifted.
I dedicate the success and merriment of yesterday's event to Ate. She has always been supportive of me and my work.
'Til next time.
Carpe diem!
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