III

A common complaint - or excuse - is that we just can't find the time to write. For this exercise, you will need a clock with an alarm, or a kitchen timer. Set the clock to ring in thirty minutes, and sit down quietly at an empty table. Do nothing. Don't put a cake into the oven, make a phonecall, or do the dishes. Sit quietly. Allow your mind to wander. Sit until the alarm goes off. Do you see how long half an hour can be? Make time in your schedule to write everyday.

12/29/2011

The Gift of the Holy Spirit

My son and I started the day on the wrong foot, which was last night's problem. This was the scenario: Yesterday, my 12 year old son and I had lunch with a literal couple. The wife, who was once my guy bff's girlfriend, ex-girlfriend actually, invited our small group of friends to lunch the next day on short notice. I accepted the invitation thinking my son would look forward to her husband who was fond of my son.

In the morning it turned out that I was the only one available to go out with my friends. My son and I, that is.

So, the wife drove us to their beautiful house on a hill overlooking the city. The scene reminds me of the view of Princess Jasmine's kingdom from their palace balcony. After some errands in the city: getting mango for the mango maki rolls, getting some DVDs to ward off boredom in case it came(to our day together), picking up my friend's Longchamp bag at the repair shop (it would cost her $20 to have something sewn there, while here it only cost her $3.00), and other things, we took off for the hill and navigated through limestone roads up to their house.

My friend and I now have something in common. We survived cancer. This is what makes us real sisters now. She survived her bout with the deadly disease in her early teen years while I was diagnosed last May and just finished all treatments last November.

But before that, she was my best guy friend's ex-girlfriend whom my group of friends have adopted and then sadly let go. There are many reasons my other friends let her go, but the most common thing is their common complaint of her self-absorption. But that's another story.

So there I was with my son in their lovely brick home overlooking the city. My son and her husband had a nice reunion upon seeing each other. They hugged and I saw a contented, pleased smile on my son's face. That made me happy.

While I prepared the mango maki for our small group which now included my friend's sister, my son and her husband played video games. It was a nice vacation day.

Lunch. The food was set on the living room set table. There was adobo, beef cordon bleu and mango maki. Rice. Tea. Fruits. And a party of five.

"Your better teach your son some lessons on teamwork," the husbands shakes his head. Then he goes on a tirade on how my 12 year old son asks him for help in buying ammo for this and that, and how my son wouldn't help him in turn when he asked for help. He capped his narrative with "I asked myself, where is that sweet little boy I bought Transformers for some three years ago?"

I would've otherwise have been hurt about that if I didn't see the sincerity of the husband's friendship. If I were not a teacher who works with kids I get attached to, I wouldn't understand where he was coming from.

He was worried for my son the way that I am and honestly, I appreciate his effort, though he showed it in too emphatic a way, that if the mother were someone else not me, I'm not sure she'd take no offense.

When lunch was winding down, the wife was upset and embarrassed with her husband's reaction towards my son's inconsideration and selfishness. She became agitated and vacillated between apologizing and talking about rehash nonsense that eventually made me fulfill my promise to myself of telling her off should she badmouth any friend of mine.

"We should quit with the backbiting," I said boldly. I've never been one to be upfront about such things. Her own differentiation between her Asian and white friends brought this about. While she extolled her white friends for their impeccable social graces, she was beginning to trash talk the people she fell apart from. And after years of listening to her one-sided tirades, I got tired, emboldened by my own brush with death, told her off. There was an awkward silence that was followed by "What did I say? Was I backbiting?" Did I really have to answer that?

The day ended, thank God.

Life with my son continued. We heard mass then went to the mall as he requested. Then in the evening, after having told him NOT TO EAT CARAMEL CANDY ANYMORE, he ate one and I lost it.

I brought up what my friend's husband said. I planned to let my son sit with the situation. But one candy changed it all.

I went on about how embarrassed I was with his inconsiderate, selfish, obnoxious behavior and how he should clean up his act.

We went to sleep on the wrong foot.

In the morning, I banned TV, computer and game consoles and gave lectures on manners and courtesy. More than that, he was forced to do some chores he would have put off had that event not happened.

My friend's husband's reaction didn't hurt me as much as it helped my son and me. Although yes, it embarrassed my friend and her social sensibilities badly, the event gave my son one of the most productive and satisfying days of our lives.

"The guy loves you, do you know that?"

Both guys, my friend's husband and my son, apologized to me.

I thanked the former, and set free from this sin the latter.

Most of all, I thank God for turning what seemed bad into something good.

Life has no shortcuts.