神は、私により多くの時間を与える

Observer,
We are fragile vessels;
Our hearts burst with no sound.
Our spirits are crushed by tragedy,
The young and the elderly
All of us are stained and bound,
Scarred and rife with irrational fears.
Keep your grudges,
I have plenty of my own.
And they will all be buried with me,
In time they will fester along inside.
Observer, travel well,
The walk from here is not far.
The rest of us already went ahead,
But they do not wait forever.
Observer, have care,
Do not be crushed by fate,
We are not governed by fickle tripe.
This lesson is not hard to understand
But it is not easy to accept
Your choices are your own
Your path unique to you
You know what is best for you,
I hope. Soon you will account for them,
Be prepared to kneel; bow down.
No one escapes with minor bruising,
To be polished, we are cut down,
Stripped down, layered,
Immersed in the oppressive heat
Plunged in choking cold.
Observer, you are precious.
You may never know that.
Take heart, you only pass by here
Once, and no more.
Another fire awaits, one that burns
With no relief, but leaves you wishing
That existence ceased.
The other fire, the bright gaze that is
As eternal, and as ardent;
A fire that burns with pride and love,
That of a Father who welcomes
A weary observer and traveler, both.
Godspeed, good traveler. Observe well.

The problem with love is that it's not blind.

Or... La la lala la lala la... I can't hear you.

At this moment, pardon my childishness. It's my way, kind of, to cope. The other thing that was bugging me (read: taken over my brain when I refuse to entertain it) keeps bugging me. Aside from the emotional slash vague slash sudden crazy post I made previously, there is this other less emotional slash less vague slash crazier stuff that has been going on in my dull life.

So, I'm single. And I am totally cool with the fact that I have no boyfriend, that I am unattached, and the fact that it's easier that way with less drama. I am at the point of my short life span where I don't particularly think I need a boyfriend, because first of all, Hello Nursing School (defined as Hello, I have no life). The other reasons are, there is still a loyalty for the last person I dated that abounds, and that I'm a selfish brat that just doesn't want the hassle of dating. Yeah, I went there.

The ironic thing about my being single is everyone else seems to have a problem with my being a single, dateless loser. Not that they said it in those terms, but one friend remarked "Are you gonna wait til you're thirty, is that your game plan?", and another said, "Not that I'm rushing you, but when are you gonna have a boyfriend?" My response "I don't know...I haven't really spent much time on thinking about it". Honestly, close friends are fine with the harping but when my clinical group and my clinical instructor start trying to set me up, that's when my spidey-sense tingle and get my hackles rising.

All I can think of is "Why?". I mean, what is the issue? I clearly don't have an issue with my being single, so shouldn't my desire to not have a boyfriend for the foreseeable future be their deciding factor? Sheesh, they're like bored fairies trying to match make me into misery. I have no problem with people who are happy in their relationships, their marriages, their "mutual understandings" (whatever that means), etc. I am happy for all of you. It's great that you are with the person you love. But seriously, just because you are all sparkly like a vampire in love, doesn't mean the rest of us non-sparkling humans want to catch the spring fever you're exuding. In fact, I am actively dodging love-mones and sparkle.

Ok, I'll stop with the hostile sarcasm now. So, yeah, I went and did another soap box. Maybe it's the fact that a classmate of mine is setting me up with someone and making promises in my name and being giggly about it. If you know me at all you know that the more someone is pushing me to do something (that I do not appreciate) the more I dig my heels in. I appreciate that you guys are looking out for me, but seriously don't ask the guy for his number and expect me to call him. Sometimes, being a friend means respecting your friend's decisions even when you don't agree with it.

So, be a love, okay, and don't keep trying to maneuver me into a love life. It ain't happening now so just wait for it. Don't jump the gun on MY love life. The moment it happens then you'll be the third to know. Until then, just be a friend. That's what I need more of right now anyway.

A break from our regular television program.

Of a sort.

It's March, ladies and gents, boys and girls, and any other species that have missed that calendrical change. (Yes, that is a word, I looked it up). What news do I bear? For some reason, most of the news that I have both received and imparted are more of the bad sort. I guess that's one of the reasons I have for not really posting stuff. I know that a lot of you guys already have bad news in your side and I don't want to add to that. I'm not being melodramatic (although yes, it sounds like I am). I am just stating a fact that bad news (gosh, how many times can you say that?!) is flittering and fluttering around like a pesky mosquito out to suck more of your blood.

Bad news came in the form of my grandmother (my mom's mom) had a stroke, of my aunt (my mom's older sister) who passed away from cancer complications, of my uncle (my dad's in-law) who had a mild heart attack, and other minute details that just keep snow-balling down my so-called life mountain. I guess it saddens me that the only grandparent I have is in more pain and debilitation when she should be enjoying her older years. And it saddens me that the aunt I promised to grow my hair for so that I could give it to her for a wig won't be here to experience that. I feel like I broke a promise. And I feel for my mom and her siblings since this is the first time that they lost a sibling. It's sad. As for my uncle, I feel for him and my cousins since we already lost my aunt to heart attack too. And the fact that I am studying to help people with their health isn't really helping matters right now. Even with all the progress in health care and in technology, we're still human at best. And people can still die at any moment.

This past week, it was the first time that a client passed away on our floor. It was shocking and you just have that moment of 'ah, there, life's just too fleeting'. It feels odd to still be alive when death happens. And this past week and the weeks to come, I fear for someone dear to me. I pray in my head that please, God, anyone but her. I don't know how I'll bear it if anything happened to her. It's selfish and I know that even now I am trying to suppress how I feel since I am once again not sleeping, and I haven't been focusing on my studies when I should be when I have a test tomorrow. It's different when you're the one in that situation of impending crisis; it's the calm before the storm and you can't help but wonder if anything will be left standing after the ravages of the elements. For the first time, I feel like my nightmare will come true. And the worst part is, this isn't even about me. All I can do is pray and breathe and hope to God that He'll be there to pick up the pieces that are left of me.

I know that this is vague. My feelings at the moment are just in turmoil so bear with me until I can get it all out there in a cohesive and understandable way. At this time, I can't help but think of that song from Mercy Me, "Bring the Rain", it's appropriate I think.

Bring me joy, Bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings you glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain.

A side effect from caring

There's been two types of adjectives that have been predominantly applied to me when I was growing up: one being aloof; the other being nice. Many people who meet me at first confide to me later on that they thought I was snobbish and reserved. I can honestly say that when I don't smile, I don't look very friendly; but really who does? When they get to know me better, that is when people start applying the term nice. They figure out that I don't actually bite people nor do I bide my time thinking ill of them.

Honestly, they're not too far when they call me both aloof and nice. I know for a fact that I can be not nice, that I can be this person who does not care. I have seen myself stare blankly as someone cried in front of me. I have rolled my eyes and mocked someone's sob story. I should empathize but no, I just don't care sometimes. But then again, a lot of people tell me their problems and I listen, and I comfort, and I help. I have hugged someone as they cried their eyes out, tucked someone in bed as they felt utter misery, and helped someone to their feet as they wished to try again. I have cried with people and cried for people with the same eyes that mocked and stared.

Anyone has a propensity to choose apathy over niceness any day of the week, and vice versa. Lately though, I've been more apt to care. I've cringed over hateful words, my heart clenches as I hear contempt in people's voices, and I have stilled in horror as people choose to stop caring. I find myself horrified at the thought of becoming this crybaby who is affected by every little sign of discord. Apathy is so much more easier a mask. No tears, no cooing or false sympathies. No drama. Such is a life I want. No complications. But caring has this way of insinuating itself between the cracks and insisting that it matters.

And it does, I suppose. It does when it's about my family, and the people I love, and then it starts extending to the people I just met, and to the people I have yet to learn about. And I get lost. My world that consists of me and a handful of people are expanding to let more in. And it terrifies me to care about all these other people when I hardly know how to care for all of me. I know that no matter how much I care for people, it cannot change the world. Caring cannot change someone's opinion, or create more food, or reduce global warming, or grow back someone's hair.

But one of the most annoying things that happens when a person cares is the persistent desire to hope. That tomorrow everything will be better, that life will be easier, that there's more to come. I care because I want to love with something bigger than my body, more than my cells can hold, greater than my mind can dream of. There's only one of me but I can have a love that renews more than what is possible, more than what is expected of me, and more than what I expect of myself.

To Darla, I love you. A lot. I first loved you with a selfish reason of not wanting to let you go. But I know that I never will; that some special guy can sweep you off your feet and take you away with him, but I'll hold you forever in my heart. I love you not because you are my sister. I love you because of your own person. You're not all perfect, and neither am I. You're not all squishy and huggable, but the parts of you that are, are more than enough to love everyone else that you wish to.

To Kuya, I love you. I've admired you before I loved you. And I hated you before I learned how to love you. But in the end, I love you, and that's mostly what matters. The rest of the thing that matters is the fact that you will always be the person who riles me up, makes me mad as spit, and then pets me to calm me down. We're complicated. You're the older brother who never got a manual on how to figure out a younger sibling. And I'm the younger sibling who never got the memo on playing nice. All in all, we're a pair. But seeing you grow up, I know that you'll even make a greater pair that special girl who'll keep you on your toes and make you laugh the loudest and the longest. Don't ever change.

To Sister. You're my greatest friend. And I don't ever need to tell you what's what for you to figure out how I feel. There's many reasons why I looked up to you when I was growing up. And there were many reasons why I desperately wanted to hold on to us. But I've learned that it's not about letting go, because neither you nor I have. It's about extending the reigns to someone else until we come full circle and our world becomes smaller. You are grace and strength and air. And you have all of yourself to offer. I thank you for that.

To Momi. Thank you. Without you, I wouldn't be. I want you to know that I haven't always understood you and I haven't always wanted to understand you. But now I do. You're so much more than what other people see in you. You're so much more than what other people will think of you. Your family, they are only one part of you. They are not you. I hope you understand that your strength is one thing that makes you stand apart from others, but one thing else is your freedom. You know where your freedom lies, and I hope that later you'll find comfort in knowing that your love hasn't been in vain. And it hasn't. Those seeds you've sown that didn't seem to grow, they're still budding. And so are you.

To Papa. Papa, I love you. For every hug that you've given me, I repay you three-fold. For every prayer that you've said for me, I offer God five more. For every laughter and tears of joy, I ask Him for a thousand more. And for every lesson you've taught me, I will honor them all. For every fear and anger that you've felt for me, I say an assurance. And for every word of discipline and pat of my hair as I cried, I bow my head in humility. And for that day when you put my hands together as I accepted God, I put my hands together as I thank the one who did the same for you. Thank you, Papa.

To Kuya Ancho, I bless you as your sister and as my brother. There's many things that could have gone wrong between your meeting my sister and your permanence with us. But the years have passed by more than a decade now and still your roots have dug in and stayed entwined with ours. You're a tree of such patience and of such passion, and you've spent and shared so much of both not only with Manang but with us. Thank you for showing us the dazzle of vibrant colors. You've brought so much to us and we haven't caught up to yet.

To Baba. Babalove. You're still my sweet. You've grown like a rose, like a mountain. You're both spring and lightning. I missed so much of your growing up but I don't regret that much. Because you have such great parents and people who love around you. And they all love you. I miss hugging you and making you laugh with silly jokes and fixing your hair because it always needs fixing. I miss how your eyes twinkle and how your lips quirk in a reluctant smile, then a full fledged laugh, even as you try to knit your eyebrows together and look stern. I miss your curiosity and your ability to go on for days and days, and days like a whirlwind that plays with the leaves and then I miss how you simply know confidently how to be. I miss many things. But I miss the fun that we create together. Always have fun, Ba. All the time. Remember that having fun is a choice too.

I can make more lists of these. I can write down more love for all the world to see. I can do all these and still have love to spare. But right now, this is enough. Because these are the words that I've held closed in my heart for so long and today, I set them free. If you read this then you know that I love you, always will, even when I'm no longer here to agree. Even when it's not from my lips that you hear it. Even when it hurts more said out loud than whispered quietly in the back of your mind. Even then. Because love like this isn't the kind that goes away. This stains and holds deeper when you rub at it. It holds your hand tightly in the crowds, and pokes you on the sides 'til you frown, and it keeps at you until you bat it with your hands. My love is annoying, let's just say that. But that's because it's the kind that is persistently hopeful that when you wake up tomorrow, it's to a lighter and better day.

I could be brown. I could be blue. I could be violet sky. I could be hurtful.

I could be purple. I could be anything you like. So, I don't own that nifty piece of catchy lyrics that I used as my title and beginning sentences. The singer MIKA sang it first, probably wrote it too. It just fit my thoughts today.

I had clinicals again today. The first for this new semester. I went with nine other girls, two of whom are in the traditional program that I am on, and the rest from the Fast track program. This day was just our orientation day so we didn't choose clients nor did we help with anyone. All we did was choose which floors we were going to be on at the hospital, clarify when our paper work is due (Saturdays at midnight), when and where to meet for lunch and post conference (12-1PM, cafeteria), meet with our clinical instructor, and get our schedule for our OR experience (mine's April-ish). And the rest of the time we rode elevators, ate, and laughed like the serious, professional and competent student nurses that we are. It wasn't really a frazzling clinical day, unlike the first one I had last semester, hence the laughing and the sarcasm.

I was actually pretty zen, well except for the part where I thought I was going to be late due to the freeway traffic on my way to the hospital. But mostly, I was zen, since there was no clinical paperwork to turn in, no twenty-something medications to pore over, and I actually slept early (10 at night). What sort of annoyed me though was how one of the fast track girls acted and reacted. Okay, so back story slash flashback scene moment, our program has two main cohorts - the traditional group, which I belong to, and the fast track (FT), or the group that graduates a semester earlier than ours will. Anyway, most of the FT already have previous degrees and are coming 'back' to school for a BSN. And our group consists of people who are getting their first degree. Previously, we've had a separate schedule and professors than they did, so no drama there. The thing is, the FT believe that their schedule is way more chaotic and complicated than ours was, that they were learning more stuff and stuff that was more advanced than ours, and life just sucks for them, but in reality (or according to Ms. J, the instructor), "Dude, no, you guys are learning the same stuff and have the same materials except for the days you go to class and who your instructors are". Moving on, we were put in on the same class as them last semester and it was ridiculous with what weekly complaint they had and their 'we're better than you' attitude. Not that all of them were like that since I know some of them and they're decent. We didn't outright fight with them but we just didn't mesh. Even our professor (the lead faculty) said they had trouble dealing with change since they keep saying "We already know how we learn best and the way you teach isn't that way". Whatever.

I digress on today's happening. Well, so I got along with them today, since it is only polite to be nice. Except for this girl whom at first I felt sort of sorry for since she was totally frazzled like I was on my first day before. She arrived last, couldn't find a spot for parking, looked frazzled, forgot her stethoscope, and kept clumsily spilling water on her scrubs. So I felt a kinship with her because she is normally me when I leave better parts of my brain under my pillow. She's self-deprecating and acts silly unintentionally. Maybe I don't know her enough but she just made an impression on me, a negative one. I just didn't like the fact that she acted so impatient with our clinical instructor. I get the part that today wasn't the most exciting day of clinicals and that we didn't do anything except for orientation. But that was sort of the point of today's clinical, for orientation. And yes, some people, like our instructor, are quiet and soft-spoken and have to do stuff slowly and thoroughly, even with walking. It's called a leisurely pace. Try it sometime.

Dear this girl, I felt bad for you this morning when you woke up on the wrong side of the bed and got harassed by mischievous fairies who govern the laws of available parking and Mr. Murphy. But it's really inappropriate to make snide remarks like "really, how slow can one person walk? does it need to take you the whole day?" or "do i look like i care about a bunch of pictures on the wall?" or only care about things that interest you when someone is just doing their job to orient you so you don't look like a frazzled piece of headless chicken when you go to clinicals for real next week. And yes, it might have been funny the first few times but it's mean and selfish disparage someone just because you think they are taking your precious time away from you and you want to go home, especially when they're just making sure that they go through everything correctly so that you will too. I get the fact that yes, I too, am being mean and wrong as I write these things about you and that my impressions of you might be wrong, the way your impression of our instructor might have been wrong too. But the difference is, I am not writing these words to make fun of you or hurt you. I write these because I think you were wrong. So let's just all grow up and be serious, competent and professional. Being whiny and snarky isn't the first step. You may think that I'm saying this because I'm trying to get brownie points from our instructor, but what does she know of what I write about? Honestly. Next time though, I will just keep out of your way and stay clear so that I won't have reason to be annoyed. In this case, what I can't see won't hurt me. Out of sight, out of mind. I know that I can be mean too, and I can say more cutting and hateful words, but I choose not to. Not because I'm too cowardly to say it to someone's face, but because I refuse to hurt people just to make me happy. People have this thing called feelings and we have this ancient rule called politesse, you can also say that as politeness or etiquette, it's what we use when we want to respect what people have called boundaries. Dude, chill. Just be thankful for the down time.

Sincerely,
Kat