Drama prince

Watching the tail end of a drama series wherein the husband loses his wife to an illness brought me back in time.

Not so long ago, I lost my aunt Cely to cancer. May her soul rest in peace. Anyway, for a moment, she was a surrogate mother to me. A good mom to a (prodigal) son. However, at that time, I did not fully appreciate aunt Cely's deeds. I must admit, I was a very difficult child. Sorry, tita. I may have mindlessly forgotten to say it, but I honestly do love you.

I vividly recall one depressing morning when our family gathered at her place to pray. As she laid in her bed, my mom started praying. Tears were flowing except mine. I was breaking down inside but held back. I wanted to be strong for aunt Cely. I did not want her to feel helpless, although that was really the case. It came to "amen," and I hurriedly went for the sink to wash away my tears. I remember crying like a baby. Her time has come.

As written in my previous posts, I do not believe in grieving over the death of a loved one. I did not lie. On the other hand, the drama series made me realize that I am human after all. I went through sorrow once before; the thought of it happening again... I do not want to entertain it. I simply cannot.

I phone home

Out of necessity, I always carry with me two phones: for work and personal use. The gadgets are not much to speak of. They are the cheapest and most basic units available in the market. In fact, I would often joke about them being anti-theft. While I can afford to lose my phones, the crooks will surely be reluctant to pocket them.

As far as technology is concerned, my needs are simple: My phone has to be capable of voice calling and text messaging. Anything in excess is too techie for me. My wife twice tried to persuade me to graduate into something decent, only to see me rush back to convenience store-available models. I just could not market fashionable phones to my conservative self.

One of our staff members, maybe the most techie one, carries something 15 to 20 times more expensive than my ever reliable poverty-edition phone. Of course, hers came with all the bells and whistles. Pretty techie! Last week, however, she got too techie for comfort that we almost sacked her. Like a paparazzi, she used her beautiful iPhone to sneakily photograph one of our VIP clients in a very defenseless situation.

Should we blame technological advancement? It may have contributed, but I do not think so. It is not the machine but the operator.

My phones, as I have said, are cheap and basic. Yet, sometime ago, I used it to travel continents to hurt someone I love, my aunt Janet. I regret falling victim to the power of technology. Even more, I regret having acted in such a way. It could have been someone else, all the same, I should not have been wicked. We have kissed and made up, but like shattered glass, it could not be fixed to perfection. How sad, we could not get back where we left off.

I learned, painfully, that both man and machine should have signal.

Marriage as a partnership

Nine years ago, I decided to exchange wedding vows because I thought I finally found someone capable of handling a difficult man like me. I did not err. It was the right decision; however, it was a selfish one. It was all about me.

Marriage is a partnership. The parties involved are supposed to complement each other, not to exploit one's weakness. On that criterion, I am not a good partner. I was not.

My wife and I are now treading our 10th year. While I am unlearning selfishness, I am slowly developing into a proper partner. The once thorny relationship is progressively turning rosy.

More than me, we.