The Agony of Waiting

Written by my late mother, Imelda G. Nartea, October 3, 1993

Lorena was never so happy except on her wedding day.  It was a day of fun, love and enjoyment.  She did not realize that only one week after she shared bliss and happy moments with her husband, he would be called back to active duty south of the Philippines.

With tears in her eyes , Lorena said goodby to Roberto at the airport.  “Take care of yourself, I will always pray for your safe return”, was all that she could say.

“Don’t cry anymore, I’ll be careful and I will write as soon as I get to Cotabato,” Roberto countered. Then it was time for him to go and board his plane.

Lorena went home with a heavy heart.  She couldn’t understand why their happy days together could be over so soon.  She tried looking over the house which Roberto’s parents gave them as a wedding gift.  Everything was in order – she couldn’t ask for more.  She really married well.  

Weeks passed.  Roberto’s first letter caught her tending to her garden plants and flowers.  She wiped her hands and ran to the gate to receive the letter from the mailman.  

Reading his letter, Lorena couldn’t help but long for her husband.  She learned that they would be going on operations in the mountains of Cotabato.  Her heart started to beat faster.  She felt the same ache she first felt when Roberto took his leave for this new assignment.  She went to the window and sat forlornly – wishing her husband home, wanting him not to be a member of the PNP anymore.  Absentmindedly, she prayed, “Dear God, please let my loved one come home – keep him safe for me.

That night in her sleep, Lorena dreamt of war and she saw her husband shot.  She screamed and she woke up.

The following day, news broke in the radio that many PNP and AFP soldiers were wounded in some Cotabato encounters.  Lorena felt the same ache again.  She could not take it any longer.  She tried calling her parents and her parents-in-law.  They haven’t heard from Roberto either.  When the day was almost over and no word came from his headquarters, Lorena could no longer take the agony of waiting.  She finally decided to go to church at 5:00 p.m.

She prayed like she has never prayed in her entire life.  She implored the Lord to keep her husband safe and to let him return to her.  After over an hour in church, Lorena walked home.

All of a sudden, tears flowed from   her eyes.  She could not help but remember the happy times she had when Roberto was still courting her – the roses and love songs and chocolates, and ice cream.  She arrived home tired and feeling empty.  She barely touched the food which her househelp prepared for her that night.  

She went to bed still worried and afraid.  But this time she has found new strength in the Lord; she hopes her husband was safe and he’ll soon return.

Days passed and still no word came from Roberto’s headquarters – he had been one of those missing from the Cotabato encounters.  But Lorena felt deep in her heart that her husband was safe and soon she will be surprised of his return.

A month after the fateful day, the telephone in Lorena’s house started ringing and she rushed from her bedroom to the living room.

“Hello,” she said hesitantly, she felt her heart pounding.

“Lorena! This is Roberto,” came the sound from the telephone receiver.

“Oh, where are you? Are you okay?” she said, her tears racing through her cheeks.

“I’m at the airport and I’m on my way home.  I’ll tell you everything when I get there. I love you, sweetheart, don’t cry anymore.” Then Lorena barely hear his goodbye as she replaced the receiver.

Lorena felt like she was being married again.  She uttered a prayer of thanks and she tried to make herself beautiful for the arrival of her month-lost husband.

Remember, Remember, the 8th of November

This essay has been on my drafts since 2014. Ten years after Typhoon Haiyan, locally known as Supertyphoon Yolanda, struck. Here is our story.

Since the first time floodwaters entered our house in V and G subdivision, our uncle’s house in Manlurip, San Jose has been our go-to place for safety.  Our humble abode is located at Phase 4 Extension, comically nicknamed “fish port”, and ever since that critical day in 2006, our house had oftentimes fallen victim to flood knocking uninvitedly on our doorstep. When news of typhoons broke out, my mother would hurriedly bring us to San Jose a few days before the typhoon hits us to save us from imminent flood and wading through dirty water at home.  Sometimes, she stayed as an evacuee too but more often, she decides to stay at home.  

For days, sometimes weeks until floodwaters at home have cleared, we would comfortably be with our uncle and his family.  After all, we always had fun being with our cousins.  Time and time again, this has been our routine.  Typhoon after typhoon, floodwaters on the streets of our neighborhood and inside our house rose by inches.  I even kept track of the height of flood inside our house.  Every time we went home, a wooden wall in one of the bedrooms would have clear impressions of the flood.  I would get a permanent marker, draw a line and scribble the date of when the flood came in.  Typhoon after typhoon, we would go to San Jose for shelter.       

When news of Supertyphoon Yolanda came, we knew at once that we were bound to evacuate to our uncle’s residence.  If weaker typhoons can bring floodwaters in our house, all the more must a supertyphoon.  That was the most reasonable thing to do, so we thought.  Following our routine, we were already staying with our relatives two days before that fateful Friday of November 2013.  Everything in life happens for a reason.  My elder brother with exceptionalities, my nephew (son of our eldest) and I were at San Jose on November 8, 2013 because we had to be there.

Early morning, my mother called me up (she stayed in V and G with two of my male cousins) to wake me.  The night person that I am, I should have been cranky being awoken like that but I was not.  I hurriedly rolled the mat and went outside the bedroom to help out with the preparations for breakfast.  We were supposed to have arroz caldo, the dish requested by my cousin the night before that her husband cook that morning.  But we never got a chance because the storm surges ate them all up and many things in their house as well as lives of people in their neighborhood.

Before the waves came in, fourteen of us were all cramped up in the first floor bathroom.  Our uncle said it was the safest place to stay in because glass windows were exploding and all of the roofing have been carried away by the strong winds.  Suddenly, my uncle went out of the bathroom, telling us he just needed to check outside. He went back shouting “the water is rising” and yelling at us to go upstairs.  Then we saw it, black, murky water. Calf-high.  Like an organized line of ants, we were able to go up without panicking.  When all of us were safely standing on the stairs (since there were still shrapnel flying around), the water rose quickly.  Three waves.  The water was rippling.  We all had the same thing in mind.  We should have died if uncle did not stubbornly go out of the bathroom.  We were spared from the storm surge and we are very thankful for our second lives.  We show our gratefulness by showing compassion and kindness to others.                

Oda a la Edad (Ode to Age)

This is me reading Oda a la Edad by Pablo Neruda
featuring photos that I took of Toledo, Spain.

Ode To Age

I don’t believe in age.
All old people
carry
in their eyes,
a child,
and children,
at times
observe us with the
eyes of wise ancients.
Shall we measure
life
in meters or kilometers
or months?
How far since you were born?
How long
must you wander
until
like all men
instead of walking on its surface
we rest below the earth?
To the man, to the woman
who utilized their
energies, goodness, strength,
anger, love, tenderness,
to those who truly
alive
flowered,
and in their sensuality matured,
let us not apply
the measure
of a time
that may be
something else, a mineral
mantle, a solar
bird, a flower,
something, maybe,
but not a measure.
Time, metal
or bird, long
petiolate flower,
stretch
through
man’s life,
shower him
with blossoms
and with
bright
water
or with hidden sun.
I proclaim you
road,
not shroud,
a pristine
ladder
with treads
of air,
a suit lovingly
renewed
through springtimes
around the world.
Now,
time, I roll you up,
I deposit you in my
bait box
and I am off to fish
with your long line
the fishes of the dawn!

translated from the Spanish by Margaret Sayers Peden

Quoted from…

When I Die
Rumi

When I die
when my coffin
is being taken out
you must never think
i am missing this world

don’t shed any tears
don’t lament or
feel sorry
i’m not falling
into a monster’s abyss

when you see
my corpse is being carried
don’t cry for my leaving
i’m not leaving
i’m arriving at eternal love

when you leave me
in the grave
don’t say goodbye
remember a grave is
only a curtain
for the paradise behind

you’ll only see me
descending into a grave
now watch me rise
how can there be an end
when the sun sets or
the moon goes down

it looks like the end
it seems like a sunset
but in reality it is a dawn
when the grave locks you up
that is when your soul is freed

have you ever seen
a seed fallen to earth
not rise with a new life
why should you doubt the rise
of a seed named human

have you ever seen
a bucket lowered into a well
coming back empty
why lament for a soul
when it can come back
like Joseph from the well

when for the last time
you close your mouth
your words and soul
will belong to the world of
no place no time

Night Owl

Here’s to the night owls
who hear dogs howl
at the moon, whose brain works best
when most are taking a rest.

Life

This is a poem written by my late mother when she was in her twenties. I wanted to share this here because the paper she’d typewritten it on is already fading.

Life
by Imelda G. Nartea
Jan. 10, 1976

Why do I always grope in the dark recesses
of my innermost feelings?

what am I searching for beneath the deepening
shadows of my mind __

why do I sometimes blunder and get nowhere
at life’s mysterious biddings,

what do I hunger and thirst for in this valley,
but still fail to find

the essence of my quest and the satisfaction of
my longings?

ah, life – what art thou that I fail to grasp thee

why art thou evasive at my desire to clutch thee;

do I always have to chase you

do I always have to catch you

yet, fail, even to touch at the threshold of
the answer to your mystery,

even to shove the perplexing webs of your
metaphysical essence.

When can I meet your familiar yet elusive face,

when can I understand you, life, and embrace ___

whatever blows and hails you give?

Papa’s Half

My father was a judo and aikido practitioner in his youth. I acknowledged this side of me, his side of me, more when I started doing martial arts, August of last year. I have been wanting to do jiu jitsu for years now but life always had its reasons for me not to. In other words, I always had excuses not to.

Nine months in since I first stepped on the mats, I am leaner (I weighed at 59 to 62 kg before I started training and now, I weigh 55 kg to 57 kg), I am stronger (I can throw a person thrice my weight), I have more endurance (from running out of breath, nearly blacking out in one 5-minute sparring round to still having energy after four 5-minute sparring rounds), I am kinder (I can kick your ass but choose to understand), and I am healthier (body, mind, and soul), and more balanced.

My martial arts journey is solely mine and will be different from my father’s but by getting into martial arts, I have gotten to know more about him, in his death, more than I have when he was still alive. We may not have met each other after he left the Philippines when I was four years old but I have met him again in my adulthood when I first stepped on the mats, first did my bow, and first entered in a jiu jitsu competition.

Though he may be gone, I embody his courage every time I train in jiu jitsu. I can even hear him cheer me on and coach me on the sidelines when I spar or compete. Here’s to you Papa, I finally did what you always wished I did when I was younger, to try martial arts out. Happy Father’s Day!

Papa is the first on the left at the back line. He was 17 when this picture was taken.

That’s me in my jiu jitsu gi.

That’s me winning a match via the bow and arrow choke in my first ever jiu jitsu competition.

Full Moon

I wrote this poem and made this video a month ago as a tribute to my late mother on her third death anniversary. I am sharing this to remind everyone that though our loved ones who pass on are gone, we can hold to memories of them.

FULL MOON
by Yenka aka Patrina Kaye N. Caceres

I spoke to you under the full moonlit sky,
it’s been a tough three years since you said “goodbye”.
Your last spoken words were “I love you too”.
Oh! To hear those words again, what I would do.

“I love you to the moon and back,” you always said.
“Sail on, sail on, my Yenka,” repeats in my head.
I love you, Mama, to the moon with all its phases,
I remember the smile you brought to so many faces.

We celebrate your life with all its glory,
I’ll share your good deeds so people know your story.
Of a girl who had dreams she hoped and fought for.
Of a woman who had struggles but with courage fought more.

Of a mother who chose her children over and over.
Of a leader, who, with kindness, led better than ever.
Of an aunt, a sister, a grandma, and a friend,
who always had open arms and helping hands to lend.

Of an old woman who had more battles to fight
who continued to stay positive by being a light.
Of someone who met death as an old friend in her sleep,
remembering you Ma, I can’t help but weep.

Now, I speak to you again, with the full moon shining high.
We shall carry on bravely, as we have, since you became a star in the sky.

(No copyright infringement intended for the background music “Remember Me This Way” by Jordan Hill).

Other Me

When will my reflection show who I am inside?
(Photo is mine)

I see visions
in my mind’s eye of what
could have been’s, other me’s,
and alternate realities.

I smile and I’m happy because
in those me’s, I see…
True happiness, and she’s free.

No, really.

The Legend of Quarry

*this is a fictional story that my Introduction to Literature class and I made in 2019

by Patrina Kaye N. Caceres and Bachelor of Physical Education-2B

A long time ago, in a village famous for their clams, Aqua, in the town of Tarakluban, lived a maiden named Felicidad.  Though she is not as beautiful as others physically, for she has a very rough skin and lumps here and there, she is cheerful, kind and good-hearted.    She was orphaned at the age of eleven, and has fended for herself ever since.  She lives in a bamboo house which her neighbors have helped maintain.  Now, at seventeen, she earns a living by collecting clams at the river.  Just down the street of Felicidad’s bamboo house lived the village bully, Intoy.  Handsome as he may seem, he is lazy, childish, and lives off on pestering other people and getting money or goods from them.  Him and Felicidad are childhood friends but their friendship fell apart when Intoy’s friends teased him for hanging out with an ugly girl. 

One rainy evening, Intoy was walking home and he crossed paths with Felicidad. “Hey, ugly.  What have you got there?” Intoy asked.  Felicidad tried to ignore him but Intoy became annoying.   “Please, stop bothering me, Intoy.  I have to get home because it’s raining,” pleaded Felicidad.  “You’ll get home, all right.  As soon as you give me that!” he grabbed the basket from Felicidad’s hands and pushed her to the ground and ran off.  Felicidad lay hurt on the ground and started crying.  Little did she know that Carding, a mysterious old man, known to be the village witch doctor saw everything that has transpired.  He approached Felicidad and helped her to get up and said, “I have seen how the world has treated you because of your looks, take this and when the clock strikes twelve midnight tonight, drink three tablespoons and everything will change.  Get going home now, before this drizzle turns into a strong rain.”  Felicidad did not utter a word, dumbfounded as to what had happened.  He knew the old man as a witch doctor but it was the first time that he saw him.  With the bottle in her hand, she rushed home.  It was just 8 o’clock when she had arrived, wondering about the old man’s promise.

Just a few houses away, Intoy was opening the clams he had stolen from Felicidad and in three of them were rare and beautiful black pearls.  He had seen white pearls but black pearls are a rarity and are much more expensive, “can’t a handsome guy get any luckier?  Poor Felicidad, she just lost a lot of money on this one. ”  Felicidad carried on with doing her chores, unmindful of the fortune she had just lost.  She cooked dinner of sauteed mixed vegetables.  She had planned to fry the clams, eat some of them for dinner and sell the others in the morning but Intoy stole them from her and she would have to find more clams to sell the next day. 

Felicidad waited for hours to finally see what the old man had given her.  She was looking at the bottle on her table and she dozed off to sleep.  Just as she was getting into a deep sleep, the town church clock struck 12 midnight. She woke up startled and hurriedly ran to get a spoon.  She quickly took three tablespoons of the potion.  It tasted like mint and thought how foolish she was, the old man had given her cough syrup, so she thought.  She figured that the old man had noticed that she got drenched in the rain and she realized it was his way to make her feel better.  She then walked disappointedly to her bed and went to sleep. 

The neighbors red rooster crowed three times and the third crow woke Felicidad up.  She didn’t have a cough and smiled to herself thinking that the bottle that the old man had given was indeed cough syrup.  She went about with her morning and prepared breakfast of egg omellete.  When she finished eating, she went to the sink to collect water for washing the dishes.  She left the basin for a bit and prepared her clothes for the day.  She wanted to take a shower after doing the dishes.  When she went back to the kitchen and started to wash the dishes from this morning and last night, she noticed someting in the water, her reflection had changed.  She could not beleive her eyes and ran to the bathroom to check.  Indeed, she was no longer ugly. 

She felt good about herself and wanted to show everyone how beautiful she had become.  She prepared her things to go to the river and collect clams again, she thought how easy it would be to sell her harvest because she is beautiful now.  It occurred to her that not a lot of people bought her goods because everybody thought her skin condition was communicable even if it was not.  She went to the kitchen, and just to make sure that the effect of the potion will not wear off soon, she drank three more tablespoons of it even if old man Carding only instructed her to take three tablespoons.   She pranced outside her house on the way to the river.

Intoy was walking by the river, carrying the three black pearls and saw the beautiful maiden collecting clams.  Curious as to who she was since she didn’t seem familiar, he ran to her and asked, “hello, miss.  Are you new in town?  I’m Intoy, what’s your name? ”  Felicidad, shocked at the attention Intoy had given her, reached her hand for a shake and stuttered, “yes, yes, I am new here.  My name is Feli…” she could not finish her name, thinking nobody can know the secret to her transformation.  “Feli, yes, Feli, that’s my name. But please, I do not want to talk to you.  Leave me alone”.  Feli wanted to say nice things to Intoy but all that came out of her mouth were rude remarks. 

Intoy brushed Feli’s rudeness and realized that she would be a challenge.  If she got to know Feli and made her his girlfriend, all his friends would be proud at his manliness.  After all, wooing difficult and feisty women make egoistic men like him feel better.  “What would it take for you to be my friend?” asked Intoy.  “I hope these three black pearls which I found from the clams I collected yesterday, will be enough,” he added.  Feli stared angrily at the three black pearls in Intoy’s hand and shouted, “how dare you lie to me about getting those from the clams you collected yesterday?!”  Intoy was taken aback by Feli’s remarks.   

“I do not know what you mean,” Intoy answered. “I was there, I was there last night.  I saw what you did to that poor girl!  You stole those clams from her and now you bring the black pearls that should have been hers!!!” enraged Feli said.  “Is that so?” Intoy asked.  “Felicidad did not seem to mind, besides you can’t blame me for being rude to her, didn’t you notice how ugly she was?” he added.  “She did mind!  You have to return those black pearls to her!” cried Feli.  “I will not return these!  They’re mine!” cackled Intoy.  Feli tried to grab the black pearls from Intoy’s hands but Intoy shoved her to the ground and ran away.  While Feli laid on the ground, she started sobbing and cursed aloud, “you treat me like I’m nobody, from this day on, you will feel how I have felt all my life.  Eveything you touch will become a rock and everybody will fear you!”

The three more spoonfuls of the magic potion have changed Felicidad for the worse.  They have given power to Felicidad’s words and made everything she uttered come true.  Just as Intoy arrived at the steps of his house, he slipped and accidentally touched the bamboo steps.  As he was standing up, he saw that the steps have turned to stone.  What once were bamboo steps became concrete.  Intoy looked at his hands and could not believe what had happened.  He went to a plant by his window and touched it, it too became stone.  He freaked out and ran to the house of old man Carding, careful that he will not touch anything.

“Old man Carding! Help! Help! I think I have been cursed!” he cried.  Carding went outside his door and called Intoy in.  “I think it will be safer if we just stay outside your house,” he remarked.  “What seems to be the matter Intoy?” asked Carding.  “Look,” Intoy answered then he touched a piece of stick lying on the ground, it then turned to stone.  “This is a powerful black magic.  We have to find out who did this to you!  What did you do before this happened?”  “I was… I was talking to a beautiful maiden at the riverbank.  She told me that she saw what I did to Felicidad last night,” he lamented.  “Did you happen to get the maiden’s name?”  “Feli, Feli, that’s her name” answered Intoy.  “We have to find her, come with me but do not touch anything with your hands,” commanded Carding.

Carding and Intoy hurriedly looked for Feli.  She might still be at the riverbank, they thought.  And when they arrived there, they saw Feli sitting by a rock.  “What have you done, Felicidad?” Carding cried.  Startled at what old man Carding had called out, Intoy said, “no, her name is Feli, not Felicidad.”  Felicidad turned her head towards the sound of Carding’s voice and answered, “I do not know what you mean.”  “You have put a curse on Intoy, what did you say?” inquired the old man.  “I said that everything he touches will become a rock but you can’t blame me, I was angry at him for the way he treated me.”  “You had a good heart, Felicidad, what had happened to you?”   Still confused by what was going on, Intoy said, “but you said your name is Feli, how could you be Felicidad when you look different.”  ‘Old man Carding helped me become beautiful and curiously, you wanted to pursue me just because I am beautiful now.  You deserve what I did to you, after treating me so rudely just because of how I look?”

“Apologize to her, Intoy.  That’s the only way for the curse to be lifted,” called Carding.  “I am sorry, Felicidad, I am really sorry,” cried Intoy.  “You used to be my friend but you didn’t treat me nicely, why would I forgive you!” Felicidad’s voice boomed.  “Your anger is eating you up, Felicidad, stop this nonsense!” shouted Carding.  “Nonsense?  My feelings are not nonsense! You old fool!!! How dare you say that!  You will turn into…” Intoy ran towards Felicidad to stop her from saying anything to hex the old man.  He covered Felicidad’s mouth and she turned into stone.   Carding looked at what had happened and thanked Intoy for saving him but he then remarked, “now I cannot do anything to save you, only Felicidad’s words would have broken the curse.”  Intoy then walked towards Felicidad and said “I am really sorry for how I have made you feel.  I hope this is enough of an apology,” he hugged Felicidad and touched his heart with his right hand.  Intoy turned into stone. 

Rumors of the quarrel between Felcidad and Intoy, two former friends spread around town, the people around Tarakluban have been told in stories and songs that the stone figure by the river are of the two.  Over the years, that place became called Aquarrel, the place in Aqua where the quarrel happened.   And as the centuries passed, the name changed into Quarry.  To this day, the stone figure that looks like two people in an embrace still stands by the riverbank of Quarry and it is said that the good-hearted ones get to mine black pearl-like minerals in the place.