Here Comes December

I always love the feeling this month brings. It’s like a magic to me of some sort, fascinating and all. It’s as if there’s a supernatural power that turns things and people around. Ever notice that people get less complaining, worrying or critical? Have you ever been just sitting there and all of a sudden you feel like doing something nice for someone you care for? Have you ever been thinking about somebody that you haven't seen in a long time and then next thing you know you see them or receive a phone call from them? Could this be an act of chance? I know that these things can happen anytime. But why of all months, December seems to be when nearly all act of kindness, favors, charity, forgiveness come about? It is a trend, you say, fleeting and short-lived. But true or not, the spirit is alive in them. How sad it can be for one person to get through Christmas and misses no one, wishes nothing and never changes anything.

But surely, these are not always easy words to accept. We know, of course, there are others who are in crisis, in a time of dread, in days of isolation and pain, and hoping and wishing and dreaming hardly take them out of their present situations. But no matter how does one feel, no matter where they could possibly are, there is always a reason to be happy about this time of year. I look at my family and hope that it is Christmas all year through. My husband Jun, though no longer romantic as he was before, is the same thoughtful and loyal person I know. And my children, Lian and Yana, they are what Christmas is all about: puritan happiness and joy. I look at my mother and I take pleasure that she is still with us, tempers and all. My other siblings who love me dearly and accept whatever this life has made me. My in-laws, who show nothing but kindness and concern and my friends, who help bring out the best and worst in me. This said, I couldn’t ask for anything more.

Or may be not.

How about a car for next year? An I-pad? Kidding.

Hope you find your own reason to celebrate the holidays.

An Open Letter to Myself

You been in to so many things lately, too busy you didn’t have the chance to pause for a rest, to slow down, to while away time and do what you really want. I caught you one time, staring blankly. You are thinking of your crazy work load, juggling one task to another so you can finish everything on time and make all people around you happy and satisfied. After all, who would do it if you wouldn’t, right? So may be this is just pointless. But may be not. Truth be told, no one stop you because you make them feel you’re okay. Were in fact, you’re not. I almost heard you cry for help, for a break in your seemingly endless, physically tiring routines. And what’s worse? You feel guilty if you stop.

Finally, you rest. No, make that lie. On the bed, with fever that shakes you up and down, with headaches that won’t go away. The doctor said it is some form of infection, I say, it’s a relapse. I haven’t seen you laugh this much, smile this often or just be happy. I see traces of that happy, giggly girl you used to be. I see glimmers of those sparkles in your eyes. It’s nice to see her again. It’s nice to hear her laugh again. I know that you already missed the freedom of having your own time. Is it such a bad thing, you wonder? Of course, not. It's human. Don’t fret over things you can’t do, that you are not reasonable if you will spend time alone. Don’t take that individuality loses when motherhood comes. Husband and children are bonuses. Only they come with great responsibility. But they should be as much fun as they are challenging. Just grab the moment where you can read as many books, magazines, novels you want, watch a movie, spend time with friends, go window shopping and buy that bag your longing for the longest time for heaven’s sake! Just let go and not think everything to death. You have procrastinated enough.

The bottom line: I love you. I love who you are, just as you are. I don't ever want you to change for anything or anyone. Just be happy. Be spontaneous. Be bold. And try to live for the moment. If only once.

Day of the Dead

Few days from now is All Saint’s Day. While in many countries, this is a solemn holiday set aside to remember the dead, in the Philippines the holiday is a day of festivities. November 1 marks the beginning of the Filipino "Araw ng mga Patay," the celebration of the dead. The memorial continues through the next day, All Souls Day. If for others it is sincere and solemn, for some it is a day of fun and pleasure. Do you put faith in stories about the return of spirits of the dead, of witches, and of ghosts and goblins? If you are from my country and was born in the 70’s, you are surely familiar with the all the sequels of Shake, Rattle & Roll or see Noli de Castro delivering his spiel “Magandang Gabi, Bayan” in a dark, spooky graveyard.

Before November 1, people would cram to Divisoria for the candles and flowers. Also, join thousands of people who gather early in the cemetery to decorate their dead relatives' tombs. Cemeteries consist mostly of mausoleums instead of grave plots and generations of ancestors are often buried in one tomb. The mausoleums are gaily adorned with balloons and flowers.

Going to the cemetery is another story. Not only you spend for the candles and flowers, but you are also doomed to get stuck in the traffic and realized that everyone is out this time of year. And if you are visiting dead relatives in the province, you should have saved enough for the family to survive the entire vacation.

However, the true November 1 experience happens in collecting used candles, eating toasted corn nuts and salted snack foods, playing games and sharing stories while sitting on the ledges of tombs. In this festive atmosphere, it's not unusual to hear the echoes of the old and young laughing.

It is indeed not really just the living visiting the dead, but it is more of coming home to place that brings you back where you are rooted, to where you will more likely rest in peace when your own time comes.

Half Full and Rising

Oh I’m so into this website, bloggers.com these days. Not only was I able to read wonderful blogs but also get connected with wonderful people who have the same interests, thoughts and probably passions in life. There is variety, more like a buffet table of everything you want, need to learn, great to know in blogging.

Thanks to a new friend, Andy Ko, for the suggestion. Please visit his blog, “Jec and the Beans Talk” and “e-Revenue”. You will not only get a grasp of his personal views but hear him singing too. Did I forget to tell he is Marco Sison- Hajji Alejandro- Anthony Castello rolled into one? I say, he sings ballad songs really well.

I also particularly like the blogs of Ning Li, owner of “The Other Side of Me”. Well worded, with lots of interesting pictures in it. One can readily relate with her positive views. Ready yourself to see God’s plan in hailing distance.

Nur’s latest post “ Vitamin from Bo” from his blog Perfect Day has quotes, verses, speech marks that can be very useful in daily living. Although they are not originally his; but he cared to collect them for the readers. I happened upon just a few of his blogs and I thought he writes very well. Very Pinoy. With those family vacation picture and other topics from Edsa, Angel Locsin, to Mall of Asia and Pres. Noynoy etc. etc. This man can talk about anything.

I guess that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I can only guess who I will bump into in the next days. Imagine the drive, motivation, wisdom you get from these people. And I hope to meet more of their kind.

“All the world is a laboratory to the inquiring mind.” ~Martin H. Fischer

Life Half Full

This title because I still want to do a lot of things. Aside from my daily demands and routines. Everyday, I would bump into ideas or thoughts that left me preoccupied practically the whole day, sometimes the whole week. My curiosity had led me, so far, to learning Photoshop, photography, origami, stage hosting, event coordination, cooking among other things. There are also days that I want to write a book, and other times when I like to master the art of singing in second voice, more like 2-part harmony. Although I have not mastered them yet, but at the very least, I can say that I have gained a bit of knowledge about them. Jack of all trades, but master of none, you say? Yes, in a sort of way.

But here’s what I learned: everyone has enough talents, unsurpassed gifts and phenomenal intelligence. You can create your own universe from one single thought. If you really want something, and if you have a solid grip on what you want, and are totally sure of what you want, you’ll climb walls, move mountains, cross rivers, swim oceans- just to get what you really want.

So?
Go ahead.
Know what you want.
And be unstoppable.

Missing Part 2

Dear Son,
I have one favor. For my birthday, Christmas, or Mother’s day, I don’t want another bag. Or fancy earrings. Or a new perfume. Take a good look at me. My face has more wrinkles now. I’m getting old and these things don’t give me the joy that they used to. Do you want to make me happy, son? Stop giving things. Instead I need your presence. Now I know you’re a busy man. In fact, you have a good job and a girl you want to marry someday soon. You’ve got a million things to do. I understand, son. I really do. But once in awhile, can we just talk? I want to hear you say you miss me. Bring me out for lunch. Or bring me out of the city-just the two of us. I still get jealous, you see? Let’s talk about everything and anything. I’d like to laugh with you again. The same way we did when I used to bring you out in the park; when you were tiny enough that I could carry you in my arms when you slept on our way home; and when your favorite topic of conversation is Transformers and Spiderman. Oh my Son, I miss you so much.

I want you to know that every so often, I still open an old box I keep all these years. In it are your pencilled drawings of robots, monsters, and superheroes. And in case you didn’t know, I still like looking at my old photo albums. In these old photos, I see you as a shy child hiding behind your mother’s skirt, I see you singing a song in a Christmas party, I see you blowing candles on your birthday cake. I let my finger touch your face on those photos. I wipe the tears flowing down my cheeks. Memories rush over me like a river. My heart swells with pride as I think of you. Oh, how proud I am that you’re my son.

But you know what, son? Looking at these pictures makes me feel old. Very old. I’m struck at how unforgiving time is. Yes, it flies. And time will continue to fly ever so swiftly, and one day, I will be gone.

But mark my words, son. Each day, in Heaven, I shall watch over you. My love will continue beyond the grave, beyond the boundaries of heaven and earth. My love for you will remain forever.

Son, I’m still here. With you. While I’m on planet earth, once in awhile, give me your presence.
When you were 7 years old, you used to shout, “Mommy , I love you,” and instantly, I’d get a lump in my throat, my eyes would moisten, and my chest would be filled with warmth.

Son, after all these years, you’re a grown up man now. But nothing has changed between us. Tell me those words again, “Mommy, I love you,” and instantly, I’d still get a lump in my throat, my eyes would still moisten, and my chest will still be filled with warmth. Son, let’s make an agreement: No matter how corny it gets, let’s not stop hugging each other. The older I am, the more I need those hugs. I don’t want a shirt. I want you, Son, even if it’s just a few minutes of your time.

Love,
Mommy

- Article posted at preacherinbluejeans.com. I changed some words to fit characters I have in mind. I thought they were the exact words and wishes of one mother I know. I know her son too. I hope that one day; they will talk about things, eye to eye, heart to heart.

Senior Moment

My mother, at 69, still wants to be in control of everything. She has her own way of making somebody believe, either through passing hint or strong, sharp criticism. Her hands may be shaky and legs aching, but her heart did not grow any older. She still handles arguments, confrontations the way she did some half a decade ago. I am pretty sure there are times that she still wants to spank me. And then there are grandchildren. Other days, she is doting, gentle loving grandmother. But in the extreme heat, she would curse them with words not even us, their parents, would use. She said she just want them to realize things and head in the right direction.

Let me preface this little story by telling you a bit about my childhood. My mother did most of the child-rearing since father left early. And through it all, she was always there. This also meant that not only did we associate with her serious, pointed views; but also got the early taste of life’s inanities. As a child, a lot of times I fell, scraped, bruised, bumped, scarred, and burnt, physically and metaphorically. At 6 years old, I was already contemplating about life. Seriously.

Now that we have come full circle, my turn has come to parent her, in a way. I keep her money, buy her medicines (with her money). She hates long walks, so I oblige myself to do some errands for her like buying the red blouse she wore to a wedding. Now that she can still walk without hobbling on cane, not still crooked or bent over, I could only pray to see her with profound peace, to laugh until her belly hurts, to see her take deep breaths, enjoys the sunset and takes pleasure of what is left of her remaining years.

“If wrinkles must be written upon our brows,
let them not be written upon the heart.
For the spirit should never grow old. “

Highs and Lows

This week was a mixed bag of good and bad. Assortment of things you hate and want to forget, and stuff worthy of keeping and remembering. Monday started without a hunch that it’s going to be the day that Philippines will be on the limelight. For a bad reason, that is. There was a hostage drama that ended in 9 deaths. Victims were mostly Hongkong nationals. The perpetrator? a deranged policeman. I felt sick and horror-struck when I was watching the on-goings on the TV. When the suspect was finally gunned down, and the police were pulling the bodies, I felt empty and just want to cry.

Then Wednesday came. Again, I had no inkling that it was no ordinary day for the country. It was the day people all over the world appreciate our culture and ranked us 4th as most beautiful of the entire universe. It made me feel proud once again. A pay off of what happened 2 days ago? Certainly not. Because lives are priceless but for such a tragic episode, the success of Venus Raj; no matter how shallow it can be, is redeeming to us Filipinos. That we can stand out against any countries. That we are beautiful people and should not be feared about. That like any other nation, we have our own share of good and bad.

Only, they both happened in the same week. Things happen for a reason and we can only guess.

Getting To Know Me

I hate being afraid. I hate being scared. I hate fearing I’m going to lose my family. My son got sick this weekend and had fever that reached 39 degrees. Not that it did not happen to him that before but every time he got sick, I find myself at a tall ledge, about to drop, to a fall that I don’t know if I’m going to survive or die. But he is okay now. Back to where things are used to be. I guess the ledge was not that high.

I hate being snooty. But it does not mean I stay nice and friendly and patient to what ever happens around me. To avoid conflicts, there are things that I keep to myself so as not to create animosity. But then, sometimes people can be so insensitive and pushy that they would not stop until they get what they want. And then the feeling of disgust would not leave me. The thoughts creep in, and just sit there. And I stop feeling nice and friendly. Honestly, it’s times like these that I realized patience is not really my virtue. I don’t complain, but it doesn’t mean I understand. I will not answer back but deep inside I was gnashing my teeth and just waiting for the demons to come out and break loose. I can say that patience is better tested when under fire, when stressors are around, when you happen upon people who never cared at first but turned super sweet when they are for something.

So yes, I am not patient. But I can be, soon.

Grace and Glory

If this doesn’t look fun to you, then I don’t know what does…

And if it’s not grace, then I don’t know what to call it. A couple of years ago I was asked to help with the music ministry. Though I have no formal lesson, I went for it and over the years, it has been my pleasure to sing and encourage others to worship. I gained confidence and trust because people around me make me feel that way. But until now, I feel funny to be addressed as a song leader because it wasn’t something I aspired to do; neither did I feel qualified to do.

By way of resemblance, our church, Jesus Christ Now and Forever, is no match to those that have thousands of attendees and supporters. It wouldn’t have last for 3 years without the love, mercy and grace of God. It stood its ground amidst struggles and divisions. Let’s be honest. Sometimes christians are not the easiest people to please. There are times that everyone want to do things his own way. But God, thru the Pastors and elders, made our church stays alive. Not because of best financial condition, superior church programs or solid followers but because God’s presence is here. So I speak, do not say that your church is small for God will cause people to come and help you… as God called Caleb to help Joshua… so shall the Lord bless you with people who will help in the ministry. And that He will be praised and His Glory will reveal to all.

Forty Winks

Don’t we all have a time in our lives that we wished we got more time? In bed? Alone, no kids, no work and no lives to bother in case we do not want to end yet the pleasure of slouching and slumping, and be dead to the world? I let you in on a secret. I am more acquiescent in the morning than in the evening. I will agree with anything in exchange for an hour of snooze especially if the little ones were difficult and exhausting the night before. Somewhere in between dreams and wakefulness, I am pretty sure I see little cherubs playing harp, to the tune that nailed my back to the bed. Suddenly, I no longer think of love, peace, equality and justice. Because all I care is fall into deep slumber. The kind you want especially on a Monday morning.

Let’s face it; sometimes all you really want to do is sleep. Sleeping is highly underrated. Here’s a fact: Everyday, we have 60,000 thoughts. That’s great. The sad part is they were the same thoughts we had yesterday that continuously consume us until we can no longer function as normal human being. Sleeping then provide fresh start to rejuvenate, refresh and restore whatever it is that needs revitalizing, fixing and reviving mentally. So go ahead sleepyheads, hope to see you in my dreams.

GLEE

I am not talking about the Fox’ youth oriented show aired on TV where everyone sings and dances and makes you feel you really want to go back in time. I am talking about the joy, pleasure, and inspiration I picked up from the growing list of my favorite songs. If you know me, you will know that music is my dwelling place as birds to their nest. It’s where I am comforted and enjoy simple, puritan pleasure without anyone budging or passing judgment on me. And as I listened, I always look for the climax, like the one you get from drugs or something.

It may not speak volume to you, but this song never fails to move me.

HERE IN MY LIFE
I have never walked on water
Felt the waves beneath my feet but
At your Word Lord, I’ll receive Your
Faith to walk on oceans deep

Refrain
And I remember how You found me:
In that very same place
All my failing surely would've drowned me
Still You made a way

Chorus:
You are my freedom
Jesus you’re the reason
I’m kneeling again at Your throne
Where would I be without You
Here in my life, here in my life?

You have said that all the heavens
Sing for joy at one who finds
The way to freedom, truth of Jesus
Brought from death into His life

Refrain 2:
And I remember how You saw me:
Through the eyes of Your grace
And though the cost was Your beloved for me
Still you made a way!

It speaks of turning impossible to possible, boundaries to freedom, among other things that hold us paralyzed from being our own person again. Let off the moral under tone and you’ll find exactly where you are in between words and phrases.

What Is It Again?!

Now, I've never mentioned this before, but I have a serious case of forgetfulness. There are days that I couldn’t easily call to mind usual or familiar things. Sometimes, I would mull over which vegetable, spices and ingredients is right for the recipe I have in mind. Occasionally, I discover left over food lying inside the fridge after days or weeks. And twice or thrice it happened that I got off the jeep without paying my fare. And last night, mother asked for analgesic and I replied I don’t have. The pain held her awake until 2am. Today, when I went about my routines preparing myself for work, I saw this tiny bottle of calming oil that I have for sometime now, which is very good for pains and inflammations, and I almost cursed myself for being forgetful. She could have had a night of peaceful sleep if it weren’t for my “memory loss”.

So there I was: easy to forget and difficult to keep watch and to stay awake. It is said that passion, tastes, excitements, hobbies, competitions, entertainments are things that entrance us and dominate our sub-conscious minds. It may be true because I think it’s my active imagination and my mountainful of mental notes that I make all day, everyday. I make decisions and juggle one task to another so as to save time. With the day-to-day activities that we do for our jobs, families, friends, co-workers, and so much more that we have to deal with, we sometimes find that we barely have time for ourselves to just relax and rest our mind. However, I just hope not to run out of memory for more important things that this life awaited me.

Missing

If it weren’t for my friends, college years will not be exciting. I am, by nature, an introvert, more like the introspective kind who keeps things to herself. Not that I can’t handle conversation, I was just not loud or vocal to somehow get people’s attention. But for some reason, we gravitated towards each other and began sharing stories, interests and views about so many things. We hit it off like puzzle, so to speak. Like suman and a ripe mango. Nut and bolt. Peg and a hole. Next thing we know, we were godparents to our children.

But years have passed and the bond slowly deteriorates. Aside from occasional rendezvous at birthdays, baptismal, wake, etc, life happens without them. Suddenly, I could no longer reach them and I was not part of their stories, dreams and lives anymore. And I became distant myself. Though our relationships were not completely soured; disinterest and lack of concern have not surely sweetened them either.

I almost got reunited with them. I looked forward to our class reunion with trepidation, expecting that things will get better. I could almost hear the guffaws, the never ending shriek. I can imagine us rolling with laughter. Then again, it seemed that all creations conspire to prevent me from coming. And I missed it. And I realized that I missed them all the more.

First Day High

Yesterday, the little boy woke up very early for school. Blankly, he took the shower, get dressed and ate his breakfast. Though he was not complaining, he was certainly not thrilled about waking up, eating and taking a bath early. And as if zapped by aliens, he moved and talked like zombie, while everyone in the house was crazy preparing his things. Suffice to say, he discovered too soon that school at early hours is not really a cool idea. To go from being cuddled and having everything sugar-coated, to the responsibility of keeping to himself and do not have someone to come in rescue in case he messed up.
However, his moods picked up at the sight of huge trees and building and courts once inside the school ground. He also took delight with the pictures and drawings posted all over his big classroom. His classmates, obviously not all was shy, were getting noisier. Not wanting to leave the boy just yet, I took one last look at him; expecting him to beg if I could just take him home. Soon I realized I was just as fearful to leave him on his own. But I was wrong about him. I thought I saw courage and guts in his eyes telling me that he will be fine. That’s when I knew he was ready for this after all.

Perpective

I missed learning musical instruments when still young. I can’t tread water, or swim across 5-feet pool. Baking isn’t for me as well as gardening. My interest for cooking hasn’t been awakened until I had my youngest. I can be graceful yes, but not a very astute dancer. I always have fears for plugging electrical objects and will forever wonder what was it liked to drive a car. Have not done hang gliding, cliff diving, or even won in a lottery. Yet to finish a 3-inch paper book by Brooke Shield, Down Came The Rain, and still to take home my post graduate diploma.

But here’s what I learned in life: The most stressful thing for you to do is to be someone else. And the easiest to do? To be yourself. And there lies your greatest success, your greatest happiness. All these cants, fails, misses did not make me feel any less. In fact, they are part of my entirety as a person. Maybe, I don’t look good behind drums because I look better at the center stage. I can’t strum but I can sing. I may not capable of putting together a gourmet meal but I can provide healthy serving of food for my family. I could not possibly breed organic rice but surely, I can raise and feed dog if need be. I ride buses, jeepneys and tricyles because my first car is yet to come. My fear of falling runs in contrast to gliding and diving; and therefore, hanging in the air may not really be exciting or fun at the very least. However, my not finishing school and reading books is unforgivable. Blame the little ones. They are more fun to read as you’ll never know what they’re going to do next. In this time where wants and dreams are relative and interchangeable, I don’t wish to get all things I want rather, to want the things that I already have.

Just don’t make me plug or get near any electrical socket.

Just Turned One!

I t was her first birthday party. I loved her in her red jumper dress, red shoes, with those cute knots on the head. Her eyes; black and round, seemed thrilled with the blues and reds scattered all around the hall. It was kind of surprising that she was not sleepy at 600m pm. Yes, we had it early evening to avoid the summer’s scorching heat; with people she should be familiar with- grandparents, aunts, uncles, godparents, cousins, etc. Pity, not everyone is present. She was clingy at first but loosened up when played with by smaller children, kept her self busy by walking back and forth. However, cameras don’t suit her. She hates interruption and so, in an effort to put her still and take her pictures, I have to shout “chicken, there are chicken!” even if the only animal in the room is a bee.

She got all mixed up between the candles and this red, oversized, particularly giggly Jollibee, quite confused to where to look at. Who wouldn’t anyway? She would shriek if gone inch nearer. Hence, gone were my plans to take her pictures with him. Thanks to her brother who posed, shook hands and played with the mascot. I thought he was past the stage of taking them for monsters, and so therefore helped me with shots and pictures I want.

Because Nanay failed to make it to the party, it was extended back at home.

I’ve looked forward to this event with lots of plan in my head- audio visual presentation, song number, group dance, if only I can do it alone, with little more time and resources. Then again, why would I not be happy if all the reason to celebrate is here: my little girl is learning, changing and growing in more ways than one.

Hugs and Kisses

I was off from work for 3 days. Tired and exhausted; but happy that I was able to be with the little ones. Being with them is like being anywhere else and more. Because we share one bed, it looks like a sea of body with arms and legs intertwined at night. Morning starts with the youngest on my chest, pounding and kicking her way up to the bed steel frame. She would bounce and pounced and giggled every time she made it- much to the delight of her enamored but half-asleep mother.

The older one, with more needs and wants, is more assertive and demanding. Bedtime stories do not have to be necessarily at night. He loves them especially if they are about dragons and monsters. We lay on the floor while the other one crawl here and there. He also sets and owns the TV during cartoon hour and insists to have his playmates around, otherwise, he will go out and play in the street. It’s one thing to lose temper. It’s another to lose sanity reasoning out with him.

But in spite of everything, I could only hope for them not to grow fast. To hold the moment where I can hug and kiss them and make all stories happy ending.

Those Precious Sounds

I found my niche in music and it is where I come closest to my inner being, closest to what I really want to do in this lifetime. Like a good meal or a good night sleep, singing raises my energy and inspires me to believe that I can be more than what I am now, above my fears and beyond my limitations. It is always accepting and forgiving- I can always go back in case I hit a wrong note or made a wrong turn or pause, never letting me down or leaving me empty. That is why I cannot get it out of my system. I sing on my way to the office, inside the bus or when I do the dishes or the laundry. As I lift my head up and open my mouth, my voice escalates with every tune that comes out of it. The soothing words bounce off of my tongue and release the tension I have within. Even if the sounds aren’t perfect or correct, every little bit helps me get through the day. When stressed, nothing helps me more than singing. When I do it, I sing with all of me, putting everything I can into it. And though I still get out of sync, in my own time, I can be in perfect harmony to the pleasure of my listening audience. Until then, I am always like an anxious child waiting in line for my turn to sing again.

Ho will you say sorry??

Its one thing to say I love you. It’s another to make the person feel you really do. Is it really possible to love out of presence? I know of a young mother who almost lost her life due to diabetes. Her eldest son misses her so much, he cried hard just to be brought to her. But while she longs for her children, she also yearns for her own mother. She grew up, got married, bore children and get in and out of the hospital without her. Her mother got old, remarried and carry on with life without her children too. She would not tell the reason why her mother can’t come home. But may be her death will. But how will you say sorry to the person you loved but never see grow weak and strong, strong and weak each day? Would you say I love you but can’t see you? Death can be really ugly, taking away good memories and leaving pains, sadness and fears. Loving out of time and space happens but hardly proves anything at all. For love is all about caring, struggling and growing with the ones you love.