Let It End And Let Me Start All Over Again

A few days before the New Year and the wind blew rather harshly, disturbing the stillness of the cold advent sky.

It is unusual to be windy at this time of the year. Perhaps it is nature’s way of summoning 2013 to hasten to leave. And I thought, Maybe all the bad omen will be gone with it, too.

The wind’s unexpected presence was haunting; it was as if it carried flashbacks from the days and months that passed; flashbacks that I long to forget and yet they seemed to be engraved in my memory for the rest of my life. I found my emotions still bursting like fireworks as I vividly recall those moments. And if only I could skip past those parts and spare myself tears and agony. But I guess some things are really meant to happen and inevitably, some of life’s chapters had to be written that way.

It is a few days before the New Year and I wait… The wind managed to sneak into my bedroom window; I peacefully fell asleep as it gently caressed my skin and took away some of the pain that I was willing to let go.


Broken Hymn

Night was stealing the scene from daylight when mom and I were walking down the old market sidewalk one late afternoon. There was still so much commotion here and there despite the fall of darkness, but they all seemed invisible with me immersed in my own thoughts.

My reverie was interrupted by the voices of children singing Christmas carols in front of one open business stall; they grew with more clarity as mom and I approached. Christmas is in the air, I told myself, my thoughts still floating as if I was walking half-asleep.

There is something in the melody of Christmas songs that puts me in a melancholic mood. These days the skies have been gloomy at daytime seemingly reflecting the brokenness of this world; they probably must have sensed my brokenness, too. And I wonder year after year why loneliness fills my atmosphere everytime the 25th of December draws near.

But isn’t that what He came here for? To make the broken whole, the wounded healed, and the lonely joyful? Somehow it’s all starting to make sense to me.

The children’s voices gradually faded as mom and I slowly walked away, until all that’s left of them was a memory.



Grandpa’s house, the family house of my mom’s side of the family, is like our second home, its doors always open for us in laughter or in sorrow.

One night I and my sister came for our regular visit; we were greeted at the doorstep by Christmas lights shaped like a miniature tree, flickering in the dark like stars of varying colors. Aunt M did a pretty good job decorating the house – the Christmas Spirit was very much alive.

We stepped into the well-lit living room to find grandpa sitting on a black leather sofa chair, his cheerful disposition, a light on its own, brightening up the place even more. My cousin then tells me that he walked all the way from his room, a mere few steps away, to where he was seated with the supervision of his caregiver. Aunt L’s ecstatic Facebook comment from a month ago as we showed her a photo of grandpa standing upright with a cane echoed in my mind: “Papa can walk again! Praise the Lord!”

My thoughts brought me back to the time when he got ill, bedridden, and helpless a few months ago, memories of which I’d rather forget. But after all those days and nights I secretly cried to God, He finally showed me that there is indeed redemption. I smiled an incandescent smile as I carried an inexplicable joy in my heart that has been scarred countless times.

The noise grew faint and my mind fell into silence as my gaze was fixed on the Christmas lights flamboyantly changing in colors; they reminded me of life.



Somewhere in the darkness of your world, God sends a firefly along the way.

I was told to buy dinner at Jollibee that night. The lady who took my order was smiling from ear to ear as she saw me approach the counter, her eyes glinting with glee, her teeth sparkly white. Her cheerful disposition was highly contagious; I felt the burden in my chest lighten and found myself smiling back. The positive vibe accompanied me until I left, her face full of life playfully flashing in my mind like Christmas lights.

I somehow lost the ability to smile out of pure joy, with loneliness always hanging around and tugging me away from it. I am surprised by how a flux of negative circumstances can kill the sweetness in a person; at some point I felt like I didn’t have enough strength left to fight it anymore. But in my heart I feel there is a flicker of hope that helps me through the darkest days; that hope keeps me alive.

I know the sun will shine again; it always does.

Originally posted at http://www.teckler.com/en/Irenewrites/Sparkle-196569



The city never sleeps it seems.

Vehicles raged unceasingly as if they owned the streets day in and day out; I am not used to their noise anymore, having stayed in the province for quite some time now. The city knew me better, though, its rebelling symphony mirroring my thoughts during the last couple of days.

Every little corner was filled with people and yet it felt like I was all by myself; sometimes I prefer it that way, to be surrounded by people I don’t know, especially when I want to hide and run away from it all. Strangers let me be, while familiar faces may ask too many questions; I am afraid I might not know all the answers… that I might not be able to give them the answers they would like to hear.

I lay in bed that night listening to the chaos that seemed to come from afar. But when I closed my eyes the maddening turmoil from within sprang forth in the dark.


Winter Of The Heart

The bus sped smoothly down the highway late that afternoon, taking me and my thoughts from place to place.

My mom was seated right next to me, playing Christmas songs stored in her cellular phone; the voice of Karen Carpenter as she sang Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire was a melodious mix of joy and melancholy, but the song failed to move me in any way; I hardly felt any emotion and I wondered if that was a good thing.

Barely noticing the passing of time, I watched as the scenes from the window swiftly changed. A few minutes later the skies sent a downpour, the raindrops on the glass window distorting the view from the outside; moist began to form as the air grew colder until I could no longer see clearly through the window pane.

I checked the time and we were still a few hours away from our destination. My eyes felt heavy and soon I found myself sleeping my way through empty feelings.

Originally posted at http://www.teckler.com/en/Irenewrites/Winter-Of-The-Heart-186659