Posts Tagged ‘family’

Weekly Photo Challenge: Old Fashioned

A picture of my paternal grandmother and her sister. Taken on my grandma’s 97th birthday, making her as old-fashioned (in the best sense of the word) as possible. She’s mostly bed-ridden now, not able to sit up/stand/walk on her own anymore; but she’s very much “still there” mentally. In her good days, I can still hold a normal conversation with her .. mostly revolving the question of when I will get married ๐Ÿ˜€ She says she’s holding out for that day!

(ps: No, she does not actually have an evil eye…)

L: My grandmother, on her 97th birthday. R: Her sister, 82(-ish) year old.

Friday Night: Waiting for Dad

Map of Afghanistan with flag.

Afghanistan Map & Flag (Image via Wikipedia)

Staying at home may not be the coolest thing to do on a Friday night for a 20-something girl like yours truly, but that is exactly what I’m doing.

All in the name of waiting for my beloved Dad.

If it’s any of his normal business trips, then I probably would still consider going out. But this time, he’s coming back from Afghanistan. So I think that deserves a special exception. While it’s not actually his first trip there (it’s probably his 4th, and he’ll probably be going back again sometime in the near future), this time is slightly different.

My Dad, in brushing my fear away about Kabul, kept saying that Kabul is safe and that the fightings/attacks occur in the provinces, away from Kabul. Also, he spends most of his time in the apparently-very-safe compound, and he only goes out to the “expat-approved” venues that have uber-tight securities. Yet, about 3 days ago, the Intercon Hotel in Kabul was attacked by gunmen and suicide bombers. And I assume such a prominently-Western hotel will be one of those “expat-approved” venues.

So yes, I worry. And I pray. And now I wait.

Going through this, I cannot even begin toย  imagine what it must be like for all the families of those military personnels out there.. in Afghanistan, and all other conflict areas. At least I am slightly comforted by the fact that my dad is a lecturer who spends his day in the office/classroom, and not out there on the actual front line. Plus, his “tour of duty” lasts for about 2 weeks, not 2 months or 2 years.

So I expand my prayers for all those affected by the wars: the military personnels, the other expats there, the families left behind … and of course, all the Afghanis who have lived their lives in what seems like a perpetual war cycle.

“If we don’t end war, war will end us.” — H.G. Wells

Rocks and iPhones

This is my input to the popular Twitter account.

Being the most handsome member of the family composed of a wife and two daughters, I have to credit my Dad for tolerating the abnormal amount of female-ness in the family: clothes, shoes, accessories, shoes, bags, diamonds, pearls, gold, silvers, china plates, bedsheets, curtains, furnitures, am-I-fat questions, etc. And he does enjoy making fun of the whole thing.

This morning, while the 3 women of the house excitedly peruse through all my mom’s jewelleries, my dad just sat there silently, picking up each item gingerly and then slowly putting it down. One of the items was a set of pearl earrings and necklaces, to which he remarked, “Wow, that’s heavy.”

My sister: “Well, yeah, because those are real saltwater pearls. That’s how you know the good stuff from the cheap and fake ones: the weight. Like real gold, real pearls, real silverware. They’re heavy.”

My dad: “So is a rock. Or a boulder. You wanna wear one?”

My new favorite humour website this week is damnyouautocorrect.

(From Kara: This is a conversation with my husband.His name is NOT Mickey!)

damn you auto correct funny iphone fails and blunders

damn you auto correct funny iphone fails and blunders

damn you auto correct funny iphone fails and blunders

damn you auto correct funny iphone fails and blunders

damn you auto correct funny iphone fails and blunders

damn you auto correct funny iphone fails and blunders


Now that I’m done with Uni, I’ve been doing a lot of travelling and even more general lounging.

My parents came to Brisbane to attend my graduation (Dec 15), and my birthday (Dec 16). We didn’t get to go to New Zealand as planned, so I turned 25 without a 25th-country-I-have-visited tale to tell.

But I still got to cross off one of my things-to-do-before-I’m-too-old/broke list: diving in the Great Barrier Reef! We (me mom & dad) went to Cairns, where I dove, dad snorkeled, and mom sudoku-ed.

After many visits to my parents’ friends’ houses in Brisbane, those from 20 years ago and more recent ones, we flew off to Manila on Dec 31st.

They spent New Year’s in Manila, me in Singapore, and my sister in London. Then on Dec 2nd, after 2 years of here there and everywhere, the whole family was reunited back in Manila. Yay!

Jan 3rd-4th: went to Anilao, where me & sis dove, dad snorkeled, and mom Sudoku-ed.

Jan 10th-11th: see above (but in future tense)

The honeymoon will end when my sis leaves (Jan 15th), then me (Jan 19th), then mom (Jan 20th), leaving my dad back to his Indomie-for-dinner routine.

In between all of that, I am doing my job applications *wish me luck*

Belated happy new year to you all, and my best wishes always!

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Oh yes, it is that very grand day, when I celebrate the birth of the best man ever: my dad ๐Ÿ™‚

I wish I can write a longer post like I did for Sis, but I have an exam to study for — I think that will have to take priority. I’m also sorry that I forgot to call you on midnight like I usually do, but I had an exam today — I think that’s a valid excuse for the late call. And similar to the past 7 years, I apologize for not being there to celebrate your birthday with you.

But I do hope you know that these ‘deficiencies’ do not in anyway diminish the sentiment: I really wish you a great birthday, because you deserve nothing less than that. You are truly an inspiration, a bonafide role model. A man who has climbed through the socio-economic ranks, seen the world and sacrificed so much for his family. Yet you did this all without losing your faith, humility, or the ability to love and laugh.

I love you for all of that, and many more.

So here’s to your 55th birthday (and many more to come inshAllah). May you get all that you wish for, Dad. And may God always always look after you.



Happy Birthday, Sis!

Dear Sis,

Did you know that you are about 10264.8 miles from me? (Sorry, London is the closest I can get).

Did you also know that you are more rare than Mom and Dad? I have two parents, but you’re my only sibling. Remember how Buyah kept on saying, “You guys have to get along with each other. You are each other’s only sibling. You are each other’s only family after we are gone” whenever we fight with each other? Or how Bu always say, “What are you going to be when you grow up? A maid?” whenever she is disappointed with us? Or how Yah always spends 15 minutes waking us up for school, singing that silly song? Or how we both thought England was a big village filled with cows and sheep when we first arrived from the glitzy cosmopolitan Asian cities? Or how I always borrow your clothes because they are so much nicer than mine? (Which I still do, even with 10,000 miles separating us. Actually, I confess I am now wearing your white sweater while I write this, hahaha)

I don’t know if people can say we are “close.” I am not regularly in touch with you; it is mostly random emails and facebook messages (and those free gifts.. coz we both know I’m too much of a cheapskate to spend $1 for a proper facebook gift). And we both know you only contact me when you want/need something from me ๐Ÿ™‚ Even when we were just 32 miles apart, when Buyah told us to visit each other at least once a month, the truth is probably closer to once every two months.

But I know I am very comfortable being around you. I can drop my guard, my pretenses and social norms (lol) I can be loud, quiet, loving, bitchy, chatty, stupid, sarcastic, witty, intelligent, sly and downright-mean (yes, confession #2) and still be reassured that you will be there 5 minutes later if I need something. And we both know the same goes for you with me ๐Ÿ˜‰ The best part is, there is no need for that awkward “I’m sorry” moment. We just know we are, and that’s good enough (though it is still nice to hear sometime, sis lol)

I can tell you things I can’t tell Buyah or anyone else, and I can depend on you for giving me the truth and nothing but the truth even when it hurts (see, no social norms). In short, we can hurt each other without losing the love. I mean, really, who else will still stay with me after:

a) I painted her face with markers

b) I waved a kitchen knife inches from her face

c) I made her believe she’s adopted after Buyah found her being cared by a mob of kangaroos

d) I spread her nickname to the rest of the English-speaking world ๐Ÿ™‚ (No, I’m not so mean that I will reveal it here in my blog.. or am I?)

OK, there’s my confession #3.

Or how about that time in Park Guell, Barcelona? Where we had the biggest fight ever, in a foreign country where we neither speak the language nor fully understand the transport system nor have cellphones? Hahahaha! Those were scary and fun times (or scarily fun?), huh? Where we left each other, eyes crying, only to start looking for each other about five minutes later. No phones, no Spanish language skills, and no picture of you so I can ask “Have you seen her?” And that’s a big park, with off-beaten paths and buildings to visit. I tried to enjoy the park while looking for you, but it just wasn’t the same. Plus I need you to explain all the artsy-fartsy and architecture tidbits to me ๐Ÿ™‚ But confession #4, I was really scared there, sis. Let’s not do that again, OK? (the fighting in a foreign country, not the travelling together part).

More Most importantly, did you know this is the longest we have gone without seeing each other? I guess what I’m saying is: I miss you ๐Ÿ™‚

Happy birthday.