Love and Being Stupid

(my journal entry dated March 11, 2012, a Sunday)

I had just about three hours of sleep last night, or rather, this morning. I fell asleep just after the clock struck 6 in the morning, not for anything else other than all these ideas coming into my head and I just had to write them down in my little notebook.

When I woke up at past 9 a.m., I found out that Kuya Jing has a hangover. He got himself drunk last night, and he’s not that strong a drinker. He said he drank because my sister Ate Cynthia and her husband Kuya George had a quarrel last night, and Kuya Jing thought it his obligation to be “referee,” and so he stayed on and drank with Kuya George and Kuya Dennis while the couple were in the heat of battle. So, this morning, Kuya Jing was in bed until almost noon, and I thought I should water the plants and feed the fish and the rooster in his stead. I have just finished giving Tatay his bath and now I’m writing this.

But before that, Kuya Jing, Tatay, and I got to talk about a lot of things, among them, last night’s showdown. At one point, Kuya Jing “rationalized” lots of people these days act the way they do because they’re so fond of watching local telenovelas. To which I added, jokingly: “Oo nga. Bakit kasi mga local telenovela ginagaya nila. Pwede naman yung ‘Walking Dead,’ o di kaya ‘Ip Man.’” I saw “Ip Man” last night. Very good movie.

I don’t like watching Filipino telenovelas because of the predictable plots, tired lines and cardboard characterizations. Kontrabidas all seem to act like Gladys Reyes or Gladys Reyes’ tatay [Eruel Tongco] in “Mara Clara,” you thank goodness that actors like Eddie Garcia and Celia Rodriguez have not retired yet.

Eventually, we got to talking about Nanay. When our cousin Kuya Eloy died, I remember dreaming about Nanay teaching me how to properly make egg sandwiches for Kuya Eloy’s funeral. Nanay said that the eggs should be boiled in water with crushed ginger, and when cooked, chopped and mixed in with the mayonnaise. I tried it once but since I was young and impatient, my experiment failed. The eggs were not thoroughly cooked and the result was very soft-boiled [“malasado”] eggs that tasted somewhat “gingery” and yucky. Ahehe. But I’m planning to do it again and be more careful next time. I don’t know if there would be a difference, or what possibilities can be gleaned from the result.

We talked some more about Nanay, and I related how, when Nanay was still alive, there was one time when she couldn’t control her bowels that she made a mess in the living room hall going to the bathroom. And I was so stupidly squeamish about it that, instead of sympathizing with her, I let her clean up after herself. What’s even more stupid of me was that after she cleaned up, I saw that she missed a spot on the floor, and this, I pointed out to her. But instead of resenting my most “disrespectful apathy,” Nanay most humbly said sorry to me for missing the spot.

And it was at that point that I realized how stupid I was, and cold, and utterly disrespectful, that I locked myself up in my room and quietly cried out my St. Peter anguish (after St. Peter's denial of Christ).

So, you see, no matter how highly people may regard you, you still have weaknesses to overcome. And in many ways, your memories and experiences such as the one I just related will always be there to point out to you and to remind you: You are not so good, so do not think so goodly of yourself.

I still am a very squeamish person, but I have so accepted that a long time ago, and now I’ve forgiven myself for it. Right now, I take care of Tatay and still get squeamish from time to time. But then I bear in mind that there’s a difference between being squeamish and wanting to do it nonetheless and being squeamish and NOT wanting to do it at all. I think there is love in the former because there is sacrifice involved—no matter how stupidly shallow it is. Love just shows up in so many forms and guises, why do we go out of our way to be so judgmental?