New year, same me! Crazy as I can be!

Happy New Year!!!

My Facebook newsfeed is pretty much filled with “first selfie of the year”, “new year, new me”, “a new beginning”, “resolutions”, and the likes. And I’m like—nothing!

It’s not that I’m not excited–wait. I am not excited. I am just happy. I have no new resolutions. Still the same as last year or the year before. But come to think of it, I can’t even remember my previous resolutions or plans. I should have written those down. But before I do so, let me say a proper goodbye to the year that was–2015.

Dear 2015. Thank you. Not sure why I’m thanking you though. Thank you universe. Without the help of Facebook, I can recall great memories.

I swam with sea turtles–it was amazing. IT WAS AWESOME!

My mom turned 70 years old. Looking forward to more years with my mom.

70th Birthday celebration of my mom. Good times with my siblings, cousins, and the rest of the gang.

Bela being part of the Math Olympiad (Eye Level).

Bela and her wall climbing skills.

Watched Maroon V’s concert–not in YouTube.

Star Wars Episode 7 plus the 3D experience with Bela.

Took control of my health.

In between those great memories, were really sad ones. The passing on of friends–young and old alike. The refugee crisis. Just thinking about those sad memories are choking me up. I should just stop.

So. 2015. That was fast. Did I make bad choices? I think I did. But does it matter? Not anymore. But did I make a difference? I think I did–and that matters.

Adios, 2015.

Hola, 2016. Resolutions? Nah. I’ll wing it–like always.


2015 in review

***I’m not really happy with my review since it is clear I did not write at least once a month. ARGH!!!!***

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 4,300 times in 2015. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 4 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Lola Monins

I was cleaning out my file folders and saw this short piece. I remember writing this on my way back to Dumaguete–after attending the wake and burial of my aunt.

There is a time for everything.

There is a time to live.
There is a time to die.

My Grandma died a few days ago (December 1, 2013). Well, she’s not really my grandma but my aunt (my mom’s sister). But I have always felt like I was one of her grandkids.

During the church service before we laid her to her resting place, I wanted so much to stand up on the podium and talk about my memories of her. But I knew that I would end up not being able to finish.

So here I am.

Lola Monins. You were and you still are an amazing woman. I think it’s hard for me to refer to you in the past tense since you still live in each of us. That’s never going to go. I feel blessed to be one of those kids who got hand made gifts from you. When I think of you, I think of you when you were still out and about—those times when you still walked to Fatima Church to attend the 6AM church service—every day. When I think of you, I think of you making that face when you hear a cock-and-bull story—usually from us kids, your sisters, and also Lolo Eddie. When I think of you, I think of that day when I was in 6th grade and saw you making pancit molo. You were making it for a friend of yours from church. But during lunch, I noticed that you left some for me to eat. When I think of you, I think of how you welcomed me to your home—first as a baby, then as a toddler, then as a teenager, and then as a woman. When I think of you, I think of how you brought me with you to Ate Luchi’s house when you and Lolo Eddie had an LQ. When you started getting sick and when you couldn’t move on your own anymore, I reached into my memories of you and thought about how you were just as loud as your sisters and my cousins. I still remember how you laughed, get pissed, talked, and how you said “oi Marmel, ma late na ka”.

Lola Monins. You have lived your life fully. You have loved fully. I can only hope and pray that I can live a full life like you—and to love fully just like you.