Halu-Halo

Dystopia

Next month the Mother's Morning Bookclub a friend and I started is celebrating it's first year anniversary.  I'm in the process of compiling the books we've read this year, and I'm so pleased to note that each of our members brought forward a great variety of books this year!  Of the entire bunch, I would probably have to admit that I am most likely the slowest reader of all of them, but I'm happy to be able to draw so many different book recommendations from them.

We started off the year with Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale.  It was my first time reading Atwood, and she totally turned me on to dystopian novels and apocalyptic fiction.  She writes such an eerie and bleak picture of what the future could hold, but I just couldn't get enough.  After The Handmaid's Tale, I read The Road, The Passage, The Hunger Games trilogy, am almost finished with Uglies series.  And I just finished these:

 

I gobbled these two books down in a flash, almost thankful for the rest time my wrist was insisting that I take.  I was almost always thinking about how I would be able to survive such austere circumstances, as portrayed by these authors.  Would I be just as optimistic as I am now, would I still have the same confidence and Faith?  I, after all, am living the good life now in this great and free country, despite the challenges I face, and the now and then physical pain I feel.  In other places of the world, their norm could be considered just as bad as what's predicted in these books.  And yet, the heart of the average citizen who lives there can be even more pure and Faithful.  Would I be able to stand up to the same test?

When I was at mass yesterday, I prayed that I would.  I sometimes take it for granted that my Faith is always with me, but if I were thrown into an arena to fight my peers to the death at the age of 16 (The Hunger Games, just in case you haven't read it), would I have the same outlook of life?  Or if I had to take my son and walk an endless, dangerous road to warmth and safety (The Road), would I have the emotional stamina to do so?  Or, if my country was blowing up violently all around me, would I have the strength to *know* that I'm going to be alright? (Current events, past history)

I hope so...but until then, I'll be praying for it, and for those who live in such dire straights today.

Hope you all have a productive Monday!

 

 

 

 

Tiwala = (n) Trust, Faith, Belief

It's a heavy responsibility we carry as parents.  USDA estimated in 2009 that it can cost parents over $200,000 to raise a child from infancy to age 18.  Quite a hard number to take in all at once, especially having multiple children.

But these numbers don't scare me; in my opinion, the financial responsibility of raising a child is the most straightforward to tackle.  What affects me, and therefore challenges me more, is to guide the formation of their character.  

This weekend was my second son's First Communion.  We dressed him in his shirt, tie and slacks, packed the Church almost an hour before Mass began with probably a hundred other families, and watched him take this monumental Sacrament.  I was anxious and I sobbed during the Homily, along with other parents in the crowd.

The tears were not of sadness, a reminder that our childen are growing up. Instead, they are of joy, and of relief, that the thing, this Tiwala in God, has been passed down, and that he feels it too.  

I want him to know that this life is only a grain of sand in the beach of Heaven.  That the world doesn't revolve around him only and his happiness. That life is day to day, and lived the best way he can.  And that sorrow may come, but Tiwala in God will bring him through.

I made Big C a one-decade Rosary for his special day, with the center actually given to me by the dear lady at the church gift shop.  She had several rosaries that were broken, and she needed a good home for its parts. I jumped at her generosity!

My brother gave each of my children a Rosary blessed by the Pope in Rome, but I made him a more portable one to keep in his pockets.  I grew up praying the rosary and preferred my small thumb Rosary, as it was discreet.  I took it with me everywhere.  So, I thought a smaller Rosary to augment his beautiful Italian beads would be perfect.

I know these are all just first steps, he is only 8 after all.  But I'll take these small triumphs, and have Tiwala in not just God, but in my own son as well.

I hope you all had a wonderful weekend!  

 

 

Seeing the forest for the trees

I consider September to be a "milestone month".  It signals the end of the lazy days of summer; it brings about the start of a new school year.  September reminds me to begin fall cleaning, to go through our closets and take stock of our winter clothing.  It is also my birthday month, and therefore the month-in-which-i-evaluate-my-life.  Who needs a mid life evaluation/crisis?  I do this yearly.

And I will admit that it's not an easy life to deconstruct (who's life is?).  Filipina-American, California raised Catholic, Army soldier turned nomadic spouse, ambitious nurse but even more passionate mom, Writer/Crafter...where and when does it all fit?   

Sometimes I feel like a child myself, still navigating through life with my children.  I have dreams that take me off my feet; my common sense guides my better judgement.

And then, God reminds me to see the forest for the trees.

 

I made this for a Sewing Mamas quilt swap.  R wanted a quilt that represented her and her boys, and I wanted to give her my wish of both dreams and stability.  I wanted to create a forest with 3 trees similar to one another.  I challenged myself and decided not to use rulers or my rotary cutter.  

I fussy cut all of the pieces, using only scraps and remnants, to include the binding.  I eyeballed the overall size of the quilt and was pleased that the sides were straight before I bound it.  (it is appx 16x20)

In my hopes to give R am improvisational quilt, I found a great deal of comfort in not knowing my next step.  I would start to make the blocks and put them aside and added to each daily, and I was amazed in how much I appreciated each strip of imperfect, unmatched or crumpled piece of fabric.  

Once the quilt top was done, I was amazed at how perfect it was.  How it looked exactly how I wanted it to be; it exuded my best wishes.

And as I was packing this sweet quilt up, I realized.  Reaching pinnacle is farce, and being a Master is overrated.  

However, tangibly, there is perseverance, fortitude, flexibility and resilience.  

Take that, 35 years.  

Frak

 (Battlestar Gallactica Spoiler up ahead.  It is 12:13 AM EST 14 June)

Unlike how I feel after I watch an episode of Lost, Battlestar Gallactica always leaves me with some type of closure. And while I wish every episode was more than an hour long (I have finally decided that an hours time is simply not enough to even skim the surface of the meanings and lessons each episode offers), each Friday night, a bulb lights up in my miniscule brain, and an 'aha!' moment soon comes shortly after.

Gallactica finally finds its way to Earth.  There is a ravelry of cheering and celebration on the ship.  Humans and cylons shake hands in spirit of peace.  And they live happily ever after.  Or so we think.

Frak, Earth is a mess. It is desolate, destroyed, and any inkling of civilization or even, the remote possibility of survivorship on the planet is dim, and the credits start to roll.

We have to wait for next season (and in this case - the Fall) to find out what comes next.

But what is next for us, on this Earth?  Today as our televisions mourned Tim Russert (whom I liked as a commentator and journalist), Iowa is under water.  Japan is the most recent affected by Earthquake - and here you might have thought that San Franciscans (former, I know) like myself only had the pleasure of dealing with them.  Last week I found myself in a middle of a hideous lightning storm, stuck in my van in gridlock with 2 of my children, and praying for us to be spared..though what I endured was a smidgen of what those Boy Scouts found themselves in.  Gas is over $4 a gallon, and a movie about mass suicide begins to show in theaters. 

Frak.

What's going on these days? 

Or more importantly, are we ready as individuals to face these challenges?

Hubby and I sat in front of the computer today - together, with me on his lap - and read through the news; we were silent.  Mother Earth is angry at the moment, as we humans collide and war, take life for granted, and waste.  We are in our bubble, we think all this around us is never ending...the water, the trees, the food, the daily opportunities to show love and appreciation.  But we only have one Earth, and one Life.

Let's not waste another minute.

(comments are off, because I write this for myself as an affirmation to live authentically)