Big Band Night

Last month Reggie auditioned for the High School Honour Jazz band. He was very happy when he learned that he made the band. That also meant rehearsals before the “big concert.” The venue of the rehearsals was on the opposite part of the city. And as Lori said, “As a musician, (Reggie) lives in the wrong part of the city.” Reggie’s Flute Recital and Flute Festival were also held in that area. Sometimes we had to travel by bus for over an hour. And we are really lucky and grateful that Reggie’s best pal was able to give him a ride a couple of times. And of course, there were my reliable mother and sister.

Well, anyway, Reggie was one of the flutists of the MB High School Big Band night on Tuesday. It was part of a ten-day-long Cool Jazz Festival in the city. The band’s mentor and conductor said, “If music is the food of the mind, then jazz is the organic, the green salad, of the music world.”

Reggie did a great performance. So did the entire band, which was composed of talented students selected from different High Schools throughout the city and I think some other parts of the province.

Eight months ago, Reggie told Lori that he wanted to be a jazz flutist. He was one that night. I'm really proud of him.

Failure can set us free

A couple of weeks ago, Brother Jorge said, “Failure can be one of the biggest blessings in life.” That is so true. We learn a lot from our failure or mistakes. And when we know better, we do better. And he gave that lecture at a most appropriate time.

Two days earlier, Ryan and I were discussing about the playoffs of his basketball league. At that time, his team was in seventh place out of nine teams. They were playing against the second place team in the first round of the playoffs. He was asking me different scenarios of what would happen if they win or lose against Team #2. At one point, he asked me, “What if we win against them?” Now, I’ve seen his team get clobbered by Team #2, a really good and experienced team. Even their coach told me when I talked to her on the phone that she didn’t think they’d win. So I said, “Ryan, do you really think you’ll win against Team #2? I don’t think so.” He got upset and said, “Because you!” Then he went upstairs. I just didn’t want him to have too much hope. I wanted to prepare him for disappointment yet I knew that I should have also encouraged him. I felt so guilty.

Later, I came upstairs and asked him if he was mad at me. Nakasimangot lang siya. I said that I was sorry. He forgave me quickly and he was in high spirits during the playoffs. And as in every game, he shone in the court on his last game and their team won against another team in vying for the seventh place.

Hot hot hot

Ole ole ole ole !



Ryan and his friends danced to "Hot Hot Hot" while playing musical chairs last week when we celebrated his 11th birthday.

We're finally feeling hot-hot-hot here. Flowers are blooming. The grass is greener. So are the tree-lined streets of the city.

I can hardly believe that Ryan is already 11. It doesn't seem that too long ago when I was getting ready to give birth to him.

It was June 1994. We had a sweltering summer weather. I started my maternity leave one week before my due date of June 21. And it was the week that the O.J. Simpson saga began. Read more.

Unconditional love

I was very fond of my father when I was a little girl. I was “Papa’s girl.” I was devastated when my parents had to separate when I was the tender age of 12. I was torn when I was made to choose to live with only one parent. I chose to live with my mother and sister. I knew it was the right decision but I felt that I betrayed Papa. That decision haunted me during my teenage years. I was 17 when I wrote this letter. I am now 40 and sometimes I still weep when I read it. My heart still breaks for the 17-year-old me. This is the reason why I struggle everyday to keep my marriage work. I don’t want my kids to go through what I went through. This is the reason why, when my kids say, “I don't like Daddy,” when he’s being unreasonable, that I quickly reply, “Of course you do (like Daddy).”

View the English version.



View the entire letter here.

Rainy days and mosquitoes

April showers bring May flowers, so the saying goes. But it’s not the case here in Winnipeg. It had been very rainy in May. Here we are in June and the weather condition hasn’t improved much.

Ryan and I were on our way to his basketball game one Saturday in May when he said, “What is that smell?” He was referring to that distinct smell coming from the ground just before it started to rain. “Maalimuom” as we say it in Tagalog. I told him what it was. That smell brought me back home. The familiar smell that I grew up with is so foreign to my son. I told him that kids in the Philippines sometimes “take a bath” in the rain. “Naked?” he asked. “No, with their clothes on,” I replied.

If I remember it right, rainy season back home begins just around the time school starts. Simula na ng bagyo.

In the Philippines, school has re-opened, so I gathered. Here in Canada, classes will be done by the end of June. We’re almost there, but not quite. And I’m getting a hard time making the kids go to bed at 9:00 p.m. since the sun is still up until around 9:30 p.m. I mean the sun is up somewhere behind the clouds.

And yes, it’s inevitable, the skeeters are back. I dread the re-appearance of mosquitoes in the summer, although I was used to having them around all year in the Philippines. Pa’no ba naman, the mosquitoes here are a lot bigger than the ones back home. I’ve already seen quite a few bites on Ryland’s arms and neck. He used to be allergic to mosquito bites when he was younger and I remember when Benadryl was a resident of our medicine cabinet.


This was a nasty case of a mosquito bite when Ryland was 2.

And you know how we use Vicks Vaporub on mosquito bites? Not heard of here. They only use Vicks on the chest for congestion. My kids wouldn’t believe me that we can apply it to mosquito bites until they saw it worked.