Hey Jude / Make You Feel My Love

It's been a rough week, hence my absence here.  Then, as if things couldn't get worst, my computer went haywire at the office forcing me to go home early today.  I came home to a dark apartment with my blinds all drawn shut, and I went straight to my room and into my bed.  Then, I watched the last two episodes of Glee, and literally cried for two hours.  

I needed that cry though.  

My uncontrollable sobbing started when Blaine sang "Hey Jude" during the Beatles episode from two weeks ago.  I think I mentioned before that Glee reminds me of an old friend, one of my childhood best friends.  I refer to him as Jude because of his favorite Beatles song.  Well, Finn reminds me of Jude.  Those who knew him would disagree.  Jude was disliked by most of my friends.  But, they didn't know the Jude I knew.  And the person I knew had Finn inside of him.  On the surface, he was more like Puck.  (And from last night's episode, we saw that Puck has a sensitive side, too.)  But, Finn was who I imagined Jude to have been like if life didn't get so crazy for him.    

I believe God puts people in our lives for a reason.  Jude was placed in mine at a very young age.  Maybe so that one day, I would pursue a career where I can be a voice for those who are lost like he was.  Maybe so that one day, I will write a book about the gifts of love that are the people who come into our lives.  In the show, Kurt said that he will spend his entire life missing Finn.  Some people may think that can't be real.  But if so, what a sad life.  I feel bad for people who would think that way.  I have spent 20 years missing Jude.  And I know that I will spend my entire life missing him.  But, I'm also grateful that I had a Jude in my life.  It wasn't easy to love him and be his friend, but I guess, it wasn't easy to love me either.  Yet, he still did.  I knew that when he let me go.    

on writing + passion and love

What my evenings look like.

I've come to realize that heartache is my muse.

Not a great muse, but my muse nonetheless.

I'm determined to finish this novel.

It is taking much too long, but it has been an insightful journey.

I've learned a lot about myself in this process.

And I know that there are still much more to be learned.

Our passions don't ever die.

They may become dormant for awhile,

but they are there waiting to be awakened.

That's love.

You can't give up on it

Because no matter how dim it has become,

you know it's there.  It's in you.

You just have to realize it.

birthday celebration begins

Spent a relaxing Sunday afternoon reading and enjoying a delicious frozen

hot chocolate drink.  Of course, it would have been nice if

I was at the JT and Jay-Z concert, but having dinner 

with friends was a wonderful second (first) best.

After dinner, we walked over to Piccomolo for gelato.

Delish!

Now, I've been thinking a lot about time and age.  Getting older.

At first, I was really dreading it.  Well, okay, I still dread it a little

(maybe a lot on some days).  But, after last night, I realized, I

really wouldn't want to be that young again ... meaning, high school

or even college or law school in my mid-twenties.  

I guess, for me, it was stressful times in my life.

Not to say that I don't get stressed out now or 

my difficulties have become less.  Just different.  

How I feel and handle the stresses in my life

are different.  And it has a lot to do 

with age and experience.

At sixteen, I thought having a boyfriend was the key to happiness, and

at eighteen, I thought heartbreak would kill me and be the end of the world.

At twenty-one, I thought that acceptance was being a part of a social group, 

and success was achieving the road most taken.

At twenty-five, I thought that if I wanted to go to law school, 

I needed to let go of being a writer. 

And at thirty, I thought that being a lawyer meant actually acting like one

(what the heck does that mean, right?).

But, with age, I've learned that ...

being in a relationship doesn't guarantee happiness,

and heartbreak doesn't kill you even if it feels like it.

It may feel like the end of the world, but it's not.

And being a part of a group doesn't mean I actually belong.

Acceptance has nothing to do with what others

think of me, but with how I feel about myself.

And success does not mean achieving what society thinks I should be,

it's becoming the person God has planned for me to be.

Going to law school didn't mean I needed to let go of being a writer,

and being a lawyer didn't mean I was no longer me.

Anyhow, I was inspired by Tahnie's 30 acts of kindness project

that she's doing for her birthday.  (Read about it here.)

So, I thought, what do I want?  What is something that I want

to change in this new year in my life?

Love.

Act with love.

Show love.

Speak love.

I struggle with it.

But, I've been working on it.

And for my birthday, that's what I want.

So, on Tuesday (July 30), which is my birthday, I challenge all of you

to celebrate love.  Show love to others around you.  Extend an act of love to a stranger

or to someone you may have neglected for awhile.  Maybe call your best friend, who

you haven't spoken to in awhile and tell her you love her.  It's simple really.

Anyhow, celebrate love however you do.  I challenge you to spend

the day with the intent of love in all of your actions.

If you join me, email or comment to let me know.

If you decide to capture your celebration of love on Instagram,

use #lovealwayswins hashtag.

Hope you had a beautiful weekend!

Carroll Gardens

I've been sitting in front of the computer all morning, trying my very best to write this memorandum that's due on Monday.  But, my mind keeps wandering to some other place I'd rather be.

I've been feeling this longing, a missing of some sort.  A homesick kind of feeling.  For a place far away from the one I call home, but for some reason, felt more like home to me.

I never really believed in love at first sight.  Others who know me may find that hard to believe since I've been branded as hopelessly romantic, but I've always thought that love took time.  Perhaps, it's the cautious person inside of me who doesn't allow myself to be swept away by emotions.  Because I thought emotions were fleeting. I've always been one who was suspicious of men who fell too hard too fast because as experience had taught me, they were also the ones who were gone as soon as newness seamed into familiar.

But, the moment I stepped onto the sidewalk on Smith Street, I thought this is what love at first sight must feel like.  It took only an instant, a millisecond.  And I fell in love with that corner of Brooklyn.  But, it was more than a feeling or an emotion.  I knew.  I love this place.  And I want to be here.

I want to be there.

Carroll Gardens | October 2012

love in the kitchen

Filipino cuisines

Like I said, I'm happy to be back.  In my own space, and back to my routine.  But, the other night, as I attempted to make myself dinner, I realized there is one thing I really miss about the Philippines.  Well, aside from terribly missing my family, and especially, my grandma.  I really miss meal-time.

I miss how each meal is a big production.  The thought that comes with what dishes to prepare because there must be more than one dish, and all the food groups must be covered.  Including dessert.  There must always be something sweet to end the meal with.  So, when I say meals are a big production, they are.  From the planning, to the cutting and paring, to the washing, to bringing all the ingredients together in the pot.  Usually, several pots.  Then, there's laying it all out on the table.      

I miss seeing the table set for lunch and dinner, with proper place mats, a spoon and fork on each side of the plate, and an empty glass that will later be filled once everyone was seated.  I miss sitting around the dining table, passing the food around as each person takes a serving of the variety of dishes between us.  What I learned during the two weeks I was there was how much more connected we were when the only space between us were the crevices between our plates on the dining table.

Since my parents are divorced, I don't have that many memories of sitting around the dining table and eating a meal together as a family.  But, I want that.  Not too long ago, before my trip, a friend asked me how I pictured marriage and having a family of my own.  This is what I told her: Saturday mornings in the kitchen.  There's a huge island table, and my two young kids are all over it as they help the hubby and I prepare breakfast. Of course, the scene is somewhat messy - pancake mix spilt on the table and on the floor, egg shells on the counter, bowls and plates everywhere, and smoke coming from the stove as the eggs are starting to burn.  But no matter how much the hubby and I swear that we'll prepare breakfast without the kids, it's what we look forward to every weekend.  The same messy Saturday morning scene is what I want.

And now, I know why.  Food connects people, and preparing a meal together brings an even greater connection.  One, you have to be in close proximity with each other.  Two, you have to communicate with one another.  It's important that you do because if you don't, you'll have a messy kitchen but nothing else, i.e. nothing worth consuming.  Three, you create something together, as a team.  And from what I've seen, there's a special bond that forms when people create something together.  Yes, I understand, in the process, it can make us get on each other's nerves, too.  Sometimes, it can make us feel like we hate each other.  But, no doubt, there's a bond.  And well, once it's all done, you've created this masterpiece of a meal (whether it be mac and cheese and fried chicken or meatloaf and mashed potatoes or some french cuisine I can't pronounce), the sense of accomplishment can be pretty amazing.  And exciting.  Especially when you finally get to sit down and enjoy what you created together.

Yes, the real thing may not be such a pretty picture.  But, it's the messiness that I want, remember?    

how love looks

Sometimes we forget how happy we made each other.  How we felt when we shared our first kiss, and that feeling of not wanting to part even when we both were sure that there will be a tomorrow.  Over time, we forget that.  That titillating feeling in our stomach that comes with each first - first time we fell asleep in each other's arms; first time we woke up to the sound of the other breathing; even the first time we missed each other.  The passage of time makes us forget.

Listening to my friend gush over her new guy, I was reminded.  How once upon a time, you made me feel the way she looked in front of me.  With a permanent smile on her face, and elation in her voice.  As the night went on and she shared stories of her new guy, I found myself sharing old stories of you.  Stories I haven't spoken of in a long time.

She had asked me earlier in the evening if I was sure I was over you.  I told her yes.  I didn't feel the same.

Even after I reminisced about our first date to the last weekend we spent together telling stories under the star-filled Phoenix sky, the longing for you was gone.  Eight years of waiting for you to remember how you felt when you first took my hand the night we met has been way too long.

I guess people do reach a limit and you've reached yours, my friend said.

I don't think you get that though.

Because you said I've been a bit colder.

And true, I've been different.

The sad thing is that I don't think you realize what it is.  That the last eight years was how loving you looked like.  And now, well now, is the look of the aftermath.
  

reason, season, and lifetime ...

I spent the weekend bonding with my girlfriends.  Reflecting on 2012 and talking about goals we have for this year.  Discussing lessons we've learned and the changes that we're hoping to make.  Our talks reminded me of this post I wrote on my old mayandante blog.  It pretty much sums up the many conversations that passed through three different tables this weekend.   

Reason, Season, or Lifetime

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. 
When you figure out which one it is, 
you will know what to do for each person.
When someone is in your life for a REASON, 
it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. 
They have come to assist you through a difficulty; 
to provide you with guidance and support; 
to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually. 
They may seem like a godsend, and they are. 
They are there for the reason you need them to be.
Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time, 
this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. 
Sometimes they die.  Sometimes they walk away. 
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. 
What we must realize is that our need has been met, 
our desire fulfilled; their work is done. 
The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON, 
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn. 
They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. 
They may teach you something you have never done. 
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.  
Believe it.  It is real.  But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons; 
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. 
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person, 
and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. 
It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.— Unknown

Excerpt from mayandante: "your reason, our season and my lifetime"

Dear Dante, 

I don't know if this letter will ever get to you, but last night while I was out having dinner, I thought of you.  I was sitting between Lanie and Dave in this suspiciously dark Sushi restaurant, and after several rounds of Sake shots, they got into their usual heated arguments. This time it was about the TV show "Alias" (our favorite). Dave argued that it was not possible Sydney and Vaughn could ever be truly happy because Sydney didn't even know Vaughn's real identity, and who was to say that Sydney was really Sydney?  Yes, Dave was doing his typical script re-writes.  Lanie, however, used the love argument and said that it didn't matter what Vaughn's real name was because even if he and Sydney changed their identities (aliases), their hearts still loved each other.

Anyhow, in the height of their argument, I remembered this one talk that we had when you asked me to run away with you to Europe.  You had this master plan about pretending our own deaths, obtaining new identities so that we can start anew and just leave everything behind.  The funny thing is that your big concern was our student loans, and how you wanted to make sure that even though we had new identities, when financially equipped in our new lives, we were going to pay those loans off.  I remember listening to you and smiling so much that my face hurt.  I didn't want to say a word because I didn't want to somehow interrupt the energy and excitement in your voice.  I remember thinking I could listen to that ecstatic voice forever.  You seemed so happy.  I just wanted to hug you, hold you and never let go.

Then, I thought about the last time I saw you.  You looked lost, confused and hurt, and I didn't know what to do.  I just wanted to hear that same jubilant and excited voice that asked me to run away with him.  I remember reaching out for your hand, and you couldn't look at me. But you squeezed my hand and held on to it as if any minute someone was going to pull me away, and you didn't want them to take me.  What you didn't realize was that someone had already pulled you away.  And maybe I didn't believe at the time that I deserved you or that I could make you happy, and so I easily let you go.  Perhaps, I didn't think I could give you what you needed or what I thought you needed.  Perhaps, I was just afraid that eventually you were going to let go of my hand so I let go of yours first.  Maybe all that is true.  I questioned myself this last year you haven't been in my life, and I could never really give myself one clear answer.  But one thing I never questioned was that I wanted to be with you, and how I couldn't stand to be away from you.  I couldn't stand not having you in my life.  But I also couldn't stand hurting you and disappointing you.  I think we've overused the saying that "timing was just not right."

Ian told me that you're happy, and ever since he told me that, I just felt this sense of relief and peace.  I realized that I can let you go now.  I no longer have to worry that the voice I loved who always had fantastic stories had disappeared. Life does have a way of working out even though it beats us up once in awhile, breaks us down and tests our faith and our love.

And you can let me go, too, because you no longer have to worry about me settling for anything less than wonderful. You taught me that.

Love, 
Maya

P.S. My wish for you is that your heart and dreams will always have that same childlike innocence and wonder that you had the day you asked me to run away with you to Europe ... and I wish her a lifetime of the kind of happiness I felt that day.

love changes everything.

I've been thinking a lot lately about this blog and whether I want to continue writing it.  I've been thinking about why I started blogging in the first place.

Then, today, I read this blog that was recently started by a 92-year-old man, who just lost his wife of 67 years.  Reading his blog and the reason he started it reminded me of my reasons.  I looked through my old files and found this post I wrote on my first blog site (one I deleted years ago), but I kept the post and I'm glad I did.  It's a record of change ... and the journey that's taken me to here.

My great love (written June 4, 2006)

Well, it was a typical Monday holiday - me at home sitting on the floor with a foot high of transcripts to read and outline.  It was a hot and beautiful Memorial Day.  I kept looking outside at my balcony and wishing that I could just lie outside, feel the hot sun on my face and relax.  But, I told myself that I needed to get through those transcripts, so I tried to trudge on.  I couldn't.  But, rather than distract myself with MySpace, I thought I'd check on my friend's wedding registry.  Yeah, her wedding was a month away, but her invitation was on the stack of bills behind the foot-high stack of transcripts, and I figured, I'd do something different and buy the wedding gift early.  Not my usual last minute shopping an hour before I have to leave for the wedding.  So, there I was on weddingchannel.com.  Checked my friend's registry, but there was not much there, so mission wasn't accomplished.  Then, I thought, I wonder if he was getting married.  Let me check ... just for the heck of it.  Who knew?  If it popped up then it confirmed everything that I thought.  So, I typed in his name, clicked on "Enter" ... and there it was: his wedding registry.  I can't remember what went through my head at that moment.  But I was certain that my heart stopped beating for a little while.  I just kept staring at the screen.  And when I was finally able to gasp in some air, I broke down.  And my head must have been spinning, like a movie reel out of control with snapshots of him and me.

I don't know how long I sat there in front of the computer.  I can't even remember what I really felt.  All I remember is that it hurt to breathe.  I thought I was having some kind of asthma attack and I didn't think I had asthma.  For a moment I thought I was having a heart attack, but I realized that it was just my heart breaking.

After what seemed like a long time, I finally composed myself and went back to reading those damn transcripts.  But after several pages of God-knows-what, I put the transcript down and gave up.  I knew I needed to clear my head.  I needed to get out and drive ... wherever.  I thought, I deserved some ice cream. Ice cream was supposed to make me feel better.  So, I drove and drove, cried and cried.  I ended up at Coffee Bean.  Not exactly ice cream, but a good second best.

I allowed myself to sit there, enjoy the hot sun while I sipped my ice-cold White Chocolate Latte.  The thing is I always questioned my feelings for him.  I guess because in large part, everyone else questioned it.  People have this thing about what love is supposed to be.  How could I love him when he was with someone else?  How could I love him over someone who I spent six years of my life with?  How could I love him?  But I did.  No ifs and buts.  There are just some things you can't explain.  I just know that because of him I am now a changed person.  And maybe that's what great loves are supposed to be.  They come into your life to break you down, change you, but that's their only purpose, and although you're forever changed for having had them in your life, they cannot stay.  They are meant to be set free, and you are meant to let them go.  In ways that he probably will never know, he taught me what it means to be in love.  And as cliche as the term may be, I was in love.  Because of that, I am a better person than I was before he entered my life.

In the end I let him go because I couldn't stand to see him confused and hurt.  I couldn't stand to be the cause of any heartache in his life.  For two years, I went through every single emotion from hurt to regret to anger - everything.  And now, I realize that maybe I had to go through all of that to open myself up for my next great love.  Finding out he was getting married turned my whole world upside down.  But finally, he (it) let me go.  And I'm just looking forward to falling in love again.  Nothing wrong with being in love.  It can be very painful sometimes, but in the end, it's worth it all.  I wish him a lifetime of happiness with her.

***

It was worth it.  

Sometimes after we've been hurt, we forget the awesome feeling of loving someone.  We want to close our hearts because it's safer.  But in closing our hearts we lose out on some of the best times and experiences we can have.  In closing our hearts, we lose out on the possibilities that change brings ... because it's love that changes us.  It changes everything.    

Merry Christmas!

The message I've been seeing and hearing (and feeling) all day is that "love wins."  And it's true.  Love does win.  Every time.  Happy birthday, dear Jesus!  And merry Christmas, everyone!  Hope your heart was filled with love today ... and may it continue to overflow with love everyday.
    

Two days ...

... until Christmas.

This year I'm celebrating love and togetherness because there's nothing like it, right?  It has been a whirlwind of a year.  But, Christmas always reminds me to sit back, breathe and be thankful for all that I have.  As my dad says, I don't have a lot of money but I have my children, my family, and that's my wealth and happiness.  

I didn't get everything I wanted this year.  Some plans and dreams failed, as well.  My heart was broken more times than I want to remember.  But, I have a lot of love in my life.  And in the end, the failed dreams, the broken hearts, the unfulfilled wishes, don't really matter as much.  Because I have love.  And that's what matters.

it's pretty awesome ...

via Better Than Fine

"Have you ever just looked at someone and thought, 'I really love you.'  They're just talking or humming or watching a movie or reading a book or laughing or something, and there's something about them in that moment - their body is alive, there's a light in their eyes, something - that makes you think, 'I just really love you.'  It's a weird sensation to think this, but it's pretty awesome that we can feel this way about another being."

via a dreamer's daze

missing brooklyn and love.

The other day I had this aching need to walk.  Around Brooklyn.  Wander and get lost amidst the brownstones, shops and trees.  Since I got back, walks around my neighborhood have not been the same.  I missed Brooklyn.  And this thought came over me: it's amazing how love can happen so instantaneously.  One day, you're just walking and living life as you always knew it, and the next, you run into something (or someone) you didn't know, but always somehow believed that the moment you met, you'd fall in love.

And life as you knew it would never be the same.     

Wednesday

i miss this darlin' cuddler.

the sams and charlies

I finally watched it!

And I loved it.

I still love the book more, but since Stephen Chbosky

wrote the screenplay, directed, and also produced the film,

he stuck with the story.

Watching the movie made me think a lot about high school.

About growing up and trying to find yourself.

Many times I still think I'm trying to find myself.

Then, I think that's okay.

We evolve.  We change.

And sometimes, it's hard to keep up with ourselves.

Then, there's the parts of us that remain the same.

And that's okay, too.

The Sam part of me is still there.

Will probably be the part of me that remains

even though at times, it gets lost in the Charlie part of me.

Which will probably remain, too.

And that's okay.

***

"I think that if I ever have kids, and they are upset, I won't tell them

that people are starving in China or anything like that because it wouldn't

change the fact that they were upset.  And even if somebody else has it much

worse, that doesn't really change the fact that you have what you have."

"It's just that I don't want to be somebody's crush.  If somebody likes me,

I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am.  And I don't

want them to carry it around inside.  I want them to show me, so I can feel it too."

"And I guess I realized at that moment that I really did love her.

Because there was nothing to gain, and that didn't matter."

"So, I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons.  And maybe we'll never

know most of them.  But even if we don't have the power to choose where

we come from, we can still choose where we go from there.  We can still do things.

And we can try to feel okay about them."

"It's great that you can listen and be a shoulder to someone, but what about

when someone doesn't need a shoulder?  What if they need the arms or

something like that?  You can't just sit there and put everybody's lives

ahead of yours and think that counts as love.  You just can't.  You have to do things."

(Quotes from Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky)

***

I don't know why but right now as I write this and thinking about the book/movie, something my brother said at our YA Bible Study came to mind.  He was talking about relationships with people in church but I think it applies to all relationships.  He said that the benefits of loving relationships outweigh the hurt.  Those afraid to love because they are afraid of getting hurt misses out on a lot.  I think that's true.  I also believe that in our attempts to protect ourselves from getting hurt or our good intentions in protecting someone from getting hurt, the consequence is still hurt.  In protecting ourselves, we end up hurting ourselves.  In protecting the other person, we end up hurting him/her.  The thing is, it hurts because we love.  If we didn't love, it wouldn't hurt.  

on being a writer.

It's tough.

But hey, someone told me that anything worth doing can be tough.  Embarking on a new relationship can be tough.  (Is tough.)  Starting a new job, going to college, and well, high school can be tough.  But, the thing is, I'm trying to be a writer, and it's tough.  A writer said that the thing about writing, no one cares if we do it or not.  The world moves on whether we write our novel or we don't.  But we care, okay, I care, and we (writers, to-be-writers, I) is alone in that caring.  Thus, writing is a lonely passion.  We're alone for hours at a time with our words, thoughts, ideas, and characters.  All these words, thoughts, ideas and characters we care so much about but, no one else really does.  I know this is sounding really depressing, and that's not my intention at all.  Because honestly, even during its hardest times, I can't help but love it.  And actually, during the hardest times, the loneliest times, I realize more than ever just how much I really love it.  It's a part of me that I can't really make anyone else understand, and that, I have to accept.

I've been taking a lot of long walks since I arrived in New York, and at the beginning of each walk, doubts, insecurities, and questions about what the heck am I thinking doing this, enter my mind.  But, as I continue to walk, whether it's in the middle of Washington Square Park or the busy streets of Soho, the doubts, insecurities and questions begin to fade until the only thing left is my love for the story.  For the words, and the characters, and for the desire for them to be known.  Yes, no one's life, including my own, depends on whether I write a novel, this novel, or not.  But, I do it anyway.  I want to do it anyway.  And to me that's love.

the vow to risk

"Ultimately, there comes a moment when a decision must be made.

Ultimately, two people who love each other must ask themselves

how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how

much risk they are willing to take.  It is indeed a fearful gamble.

Because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something

which has to be created, so that, together we become a new creature.

"To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take. 

If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people

think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move

into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent;

into that love which is not possession, but participation.  It takes a lifetime

to learn another person.  When love is not possession, but participation,

then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling, and

which implies such risk that it is often rejected."

~ Madeleine L'Engle, The Irrational Season"

Let's not reject it.

Take the risk, my love.

twenty seconds.

Sunset in Idyllwild.

There's something I've been wanting to do.  For a long, long time. 

And you know what?  I'm finally doing it. 

I got my twenty seconds of insane courage.  :)


p.s. This is to my childhood best friend "Jude."  He's the Charlie and Sam of my life.  (Clue: Read Perks of Being a Wallflower.) 

He used to always sing this song to me:

Thank you, Jude.  I'll love you always.  - Your twin from another star, your eternal soul mate.

lessons from the young writer

Funny how a little fellow can teach me so much.  Can bring me back to the person that I am. 

Jordan wrote a story the other day.  He was mighty proud because it was over 600 words (according to the word count on the computer).  And as my family and I gathered around to listen to him read it to us, I thought, here's my little writer.  He doesn't have to wait for one day to be a writer; he's already a writer.  An amazing writer.  At six years old.  And I reminded him of that: you're a great writer, babe.  (Yep, he's my babe.)  Keep writing.

That day, I learned these things from Jordan:

(1) Be proud of your voice.  He read that story with such conviction.  He didn't let the giggles from the room sway him; he kept on reading.   

(2) Tell the stories you want to tell, and in the way you want to tell them.  There's always basketball in Jordan's stories.  But he can tell a basketball story in many different ways. 

(3) Just write.  Let your creativity flow.  When I got to my mom's house on the 4th, Jordan was on the computer typing away.  When I went over to say hello to him, he told me that he was writing a story and I couldn't read it until he was done.  Then, he went back to his writing.  He was in a zone.  No one could disturb him. 

(4) Just write and the story will come.  Although Jordan finally learned to write in sentences, using punctuation marks, he still doesn't do paragraph breaks.  So, the story was one long paragraph.  But that long paragraph had a story.  It had characters.  It had dialogue.  It had conflict.  It had a resolution.  And it even had a lesson.  Patience.  Pretty amazing, huh?

(5) Know what you love and do it.  At six, Jordan knows he loves to read and write.  And he loves basketball.  Sometimes, we have to pull him away from the computer or from all the notebooks that he has compiled.  (He started writing journals when he was four.)  Sometimes, we have to tell him that he can't keep dribbling the ball or spend so many hours practicing his shots.  That he has to do something else.  Sometimes, we try to get him to play other sports or play games with the other kids.  But, he's adamant.  His love is basketball.  It's the only sport he wants to play.  And he loves to read and write.  Playing games with other kids is just not his thing.  It bores him.  He loves to create stories.  That's what he wants to do.  And the other day, I thought, why not just let him?  I realized that what you want to be when you're young, before all the pressures and influences of life, before you've been disappointed and told you can't do that, is really a reflection of your true self.  The purest, truest YOU. 

When I was young, I wanted to be a writer. 

he makes my heart melt

I've had a super-busy and stressful last couple of days, hence, my absence here.  But this afternoon I got this text from Jordan, and suddenly, the tensions in my shoulders and back disappeared.  And my heart melted.

"Ninang Mae, we should go ice skating.  I remember the last time was about 2008.  I remember it was ate (pr. a-teh, meaning: big sister), you and me.  Remember that?"*  ("Ninang" means godmother.)   

He's right - the last time I took him ice skating was in 2008.  The funny thing is that he was three at the time.

Yesterday, on the way to church, I asked him how his newborn niece was doing.  His response: She doesn't care about the world.  All she does is sleep, cry, eat, and poop.  I couldn't help but laugh.

When I think of Jordan I think maybe he's the reason I don't have kids just yet.  I don't think we'd have the kind of relationship we do if I did.  Or it would just be different.  He'd have to share me with someone.  And right now, he's not meant to.  He's the little man in my life.  The love of my life. 

I remember a couple of months ago, Jordan got really upset with me for snapping at him and scolding him.  So, he refused to answer my text messages and calls.  A couple of days later, I told my dad that I was sad because Jordan was mad at me.  A few minutes later, I got this text from Jordan: "I <3 U."  Then, he called me: I love you, he said.  I wasn't mad at you.  I love you!

How can I not be crazy about that boy?


*Just as a disclaimer, my six-year-old nephew doesn't have a cell phone.  He uses his sister's phone.  :) 

Amazing

I had an amazing weekend.  I wish I could write something more elaborate or eloquent to describe just how amazing this weekend has been, but maybe these pictures will give you a better idea - much better than anything I could write at this moment.

Sunset landing into SF.

Race onto the runway!

Roadtrip to Napa!

Cheers!

A day at the pier.

Then, some playtime ...

... and some ice cream.

The way to my heart.

Another beautiful sunset - view from our hotel.

Fireworks!

more fireworks!

And even more amazing - my niece's baby girl was born today!  As I walked into the waiting room (after rushing through traffic from the airport, and then, running from the parking lot into the hospital), she came out.  :)  And I fell in love all over again! 

I hope you all had an amazing weekend, too!