On movies

I seldom go to the movies, not that I don’t like movies. I do. I usually wait for the movies to come out on tape or DVD, or sometimes, to be shown on TV. On average, I go to the movies only once a year, twice at the most. This is a far cry from my movie-going habit when I was still single in the Philippines. I think I went at least once a month, or more, to watch my favourite Pinoy movie stars. It’s probably because I didn’t have a TV back then. Besides, going to the movies back home is very affordable. But here in Canada, it’s quite pricey. Tickets are $8.50 each. Plus I have to buy the over-priced popcorn and drinks for the kids. Otherwise, they don’t see the point of going to the movies without those. Every year, I treat the kids, and myself as well. We pick one movie that we really like that is worth watching on the big screen, such as those with spectacular special effects: the Harry Potter Series, The Matrix, Lord of the Rings, or Star Wars.

Not for young children

The ads for Star Wars Episode 3 says: Not recommended for young children. I wondered if I should bring my 7-year old, Ryland. But he really wanted to. He had seen the other Star Wars movies and watched the other movies that his brothers like. So I figured that he was ready. I was just worried because the first time he watched Spiderman when he was about 3, he was afraid to sleep alone. His bed was by the window and he was reminded of the hospital scene when the Green Goblin entered through the window and attacked Aunt May. My oldest son, Reggie, was around 8 or 9 when he saw Star Wars Episode 1 and he had nightmares of Darth Maul. So you now see my apprehension.

May the force be with you

What makes one turn to the Dark Side? Is it lust for power? Or blindness to deception? Or the desire to save a loved one?

The 3 prequels to the Star Wars saga tell us the story of Anakin Skywalker, who became Darth Vader. His is a very sad story. I have to admit, I shed a tear towards the end of Episode 3, when Padme gave birth to the twins and lost the desire to live. Or it could just be me. I always cry when I watch a woman give birth. But nonetheless, I still felt sorry for Anakin. We knew that eventually, he would turn to the Dark Side. But we saw this happen slowly and we understood why.

In "Attack of the Clones," we watched him agonize when his mother, Shmi, died in his arms and we felt his wrath when he slew her killers, the Sand People.

In "Revenge of the Sith," he was haunted by nightmares of Padme dying in childbirth and he was determined to stop her from dying, no matter the cost, which lead him to the dark path.

Ryan said, “Now it all connects.” We now have a better understanding of the series. The movie explains why Darth Vader had to wear that suit and why we hear him breathe. We also learned how the twins got separated and why Luke ended up at Tatooine and Leah with the Organas.

I now know why it’s not suitable for young children. How many times did I try to cover Ryland’s eyes with my hand, which he always brushed off. Of course it just made him more curious. I just didn’t want him to see the sometimes gruesome fighting scenes with arms being cut off. I was afraid that he’d get scared of Chancellor Palpatine’s face after he almost died when Mace Windu battled him. The visual effects are so good that they look so lifelike. I kept asking him if he was scared, to which he always replied, “No.” Sure, he was not. He knew that it wasn’t real.

"Revenge of the Sith" has such a universal theme. It is about the choices we make and the consequences of our actions. Sometimes we have to make life-changing decisions. But when we are young, like Anakin in the movie, we let our emotions take over and we make harsh decisions - decisions that could lead to pain, loss and suffering. I hope that my children can see beyond the breath-taking lightsaber duels and take this lesson with them.

Good performances

It had been a very busy month – with the boys’ basketball practice two nights a week and games every Saturday. And then there was Reggie’s music stuff as well – band audition, Spring concert, recital and Flute Festival. Most of the time, the kids’ have conflicting schedules. R and I took turns in accompanying them to their activities. There were times when each of the boys wanted me instead of their dad. If I could only be at two places at once, I’d try to be there at all of their activities. (Ooops, be careful what you wish for nga pala.)

Sometimes I just felt so tired and worn out by the end of the week. But when I remember what Ryland’s Mother’s Day card said, “Thank you Mommy for coming to my basketball games,” that was enough to re-invigorate me.

I was a proud momma on Saturday. Each of my three kids did great...

On Game 8, Ryan shone in the court again. During the second half, he made a basket from a spot outside the free-throw line. We all cheered him. His teammate, Jordan, who was a lot bigger than him, was so happy that he (Jordan) picked up and carried Ryan. But the points didn’t count. Ryan shot the ball after the bell rang for the substitutes. That was too bad. But it didn’t matter. We won’t forget Ryan’s shining moment.

Ryland is getting more confident in playing basketball. At two times during Game 8, he got hold of the ball and I shouted from the bench, “Shoot it, Ryland.” He tried, but missed the basket on both times. That was a big improvement, though.

Reggie’s flute instructor, Lori, wrapped up her classes with a recital. Reggie played a Jazz piece that he improvised, titled, “A Night in Tunisia.” Lori was all praises for him. After the recital, the dad of one of the students came up to Reggie and said the he was impressed with Reggie’s performance, and more so when he learned that Reggie improvised his piece. He is really talented.

Memories of May

May brings back many memories of my childhood and Noveleta, the town in Cavite where I grew up.

One of my fondest memories of Noveleta is the fiesta, which was held every May 3. I loved going to the perya with my best pal, Olive. We rode on the ferris wheel, ate snow cones, and watched the lighting of the fireworks. And how can I forget the karakol. People carried the saints’ statues, the band played lively tunes and people danced in the streets. The throng would go around town, dancing under the hot summer sun, each and everyone wearing wide-brimmed sombreros. We would be dancing and walking in the dusty streets and by the time the karakol ended, my feet would be muddy from sweat and dust. I’ve always had sweaty palms and feet. When I got home, I’d wash my feet right away and the elders would scold me, “mapapasma ka.”



Also held in May is the Santacruzan, a depiction of the finding of Christ's Cross by Queen Helena and Constantine. Pretty girls and ladies participated in the procession as sagalas. I was never asked to join the Santacruzan when I was in Noveleta. I wasn’t one of those pretty girls. But when I was around 8 or 9, I willingly traveled to Papa’s hometown, the very far Atimonan, Quezon, when I was asked to be the Dama de las Flores. Ate Cherry, my cousin, was also one of the sagalas. I don’t recall why my parents weren’t able to come with me. I went with my auntie and Ate Cherry.



It was memorable for me, not because it was my first time to be a sagala, but rather because of a fateful event that happened on the day we were to go back home. I went to the bathroom in the morning to take a shower. The bathroom was outside the house, sort of an outhouse. When I went in, I slipped on the wet floor and banged my head on the large cooking oil tin, which was used as a timba. I got a cut on my forehead and I bled profusely. I heard my aunt say, “Mabuti na lang at si Irene ang naaksidente at hindi ang anak ko.” I took it badly at that time. But I knew that she only meant that she would feel worse if it was her child who got hurt. It was so embarrassing that I had to wear a Band-aid on my forehead on the long trip back to Manila, and then to Cavite. I have worn bangs for 21 years to cover up that scar.



May is one of the summer vacation months in the Philippines. Sometimes, my cousins from Quezon Province would come to live with us in Noveleta for a few weeks. Other times, my cousins from Manila would also come. Since my birthday is in May, we usually went swimming at Lido Beach. Oh, those were carefree, happy times!



Even as I grew older, even after my parents separated and I moved away from Cavite, I was always surrounded either by family or friends on my birthdays. When Mama migrated to Canada, she would always send us a parcel around the time of my birthday and she always sent us special sotanghon (bean thread) to cook for my special day.

I don’t know why, but somehow, I stopped celebrating my birthdays when I left the Philippines, which was also around the time I started to have a family. I guess the tight schedules of work and family made it hard for me to find time to plan anything for myself. I never fail to plan parties for each of my kids’ birthdays, though. (Bakit ganoon, ano?) Oh sure, I’d cook pancit or spaghetti, or even buy a cake on my birthday. But that was it.

For many years, I expected my partner to do anything special for me. And when that didn’t happen, year after year, I started to resent it. So for the past couple of years, I would sulk on my birthday. I’d bring my kids along with me to watch a movie, just to get out of the house, get as far as possible from the person who makes me feel hurt. Until I realized that it just made me feel worse. I learned that it could be so depressing to wallow in resentment.

But sometimes Life presents us with surprises. Two weeks before my birthday, my partner came home with a present for me. I was taken aback. I choked back my tears. He has never given me any presents. And I have sometimes complained about it. I have accepted the fact that I may never receive anything from him and then it happened. I wondered if “two angels” have talked him into doing it. But hey, I’ll take it. This may be the one and only present that I’ll ever receive from him. And it’s not really the physical – the tangible – aspect of this present that’s important. It’s the thought that counts.



This year, I turned the big 4-0. I decided that I wouldn’t sulk this time. No way. I wanted to celebrate my birthday the way I celebrated it when I was still in the Philippines – surrounded by family and friends who care about me. And it included my old pal Olive, whom I was reunited with two years ago. We had a simple gathering at home. We ate lots of food, played games, and shared laughter. It has been my happiest birthday so far.