Our Story

 Dear young (and not-so-young) ones:

Let me tell you something. I think I may have found the connection between the Ubarras and the de la Cruzes in Capiz. When I first came here, I had the opportunity to speak to one of the writers who told me about the DLCs of Capiz, the place where your great grandfather originated. Your Tito Nap and I have been planning for the longest time to go there but due to this pandemic, our plans were put on hold until it's all right for him to come from the US and join me here. 

You have to know that when we were growing up, there were stories shared around the dinner tables during family reunions about how our forefathers (and foremothers, although they were not given the major roles in the stories) fought the Spanish forces, most often with street-smart wisdom and tactics, to defend their homes and their freedoms. (There's a story/play about a revolution here in Panay that I'm still trying to search so that I could share it with you. I was told that one of the key players was a de la Cruz.)

Moving on to a not-so-distant past, your great lolo Antipas (with a new surname: Ubarra?) moved to Negros where he met your great lola Expectation Trasmonte and formed a family there. Such chaotic times they lived through that during the Japanese invasion of Negros, they hid in Hinigaran, at the "punong" (fishpond) that you know now, and survived the war by cutting off the living area and surrounded it with dead trees and bushes that the Japanese planes and soldiers were not able to see and penetrate. There were also stories of your great uncles who fought off "aswangs" (ghouls) while they were going home to the house at the "punong" after having their own travels and adventures. 

These stories have been with us ever since we became aware of the family saying "salumon ang wasay" or "pangitaon ang wasay" (dive or search for the axe), which at that time, we had no idea what it meant. However, as we grew older, we began to understand that it was to look out for each other and to take care of each other no matter what. 

So, my dear nieces and nephews, and younger cousins who didn't hear the stories from our lolos, lolas, uncles, and aunts, let me assure you that our story continues. We have to go to Capiz still and talk to our long-lost family. 

In the meantime, let's unite. We may have differences in our political outlooks, but somewhere deep down, our main goal is to be bigger than ourselves and work for the whole nation, for the entire Filipinos who are now suffering from bad governance. Padayon! 🥰

Love always, 

Tita/Mimi

Befriending Death

 Befriending Death

Death is no longer a stranger to us.

We've known it since and

it's been with us all our lives. 

We know its pain, the hollowest 

and the emptiest state of our soul

that it causes for a very long time.

But nothing can ever prepare us

for losing yet again someone, 

a beloved person, whose kindness

allowed us to overcome our own grief

over the passing of our parents,

our siblings, our spouses, and our friends.

This kind of grief is all too familiar

and how we wish we can embrace them tightly

to banish that painful emotion from their loss.

We want to cradle their heads while they cry

and to assure them of our love and sympathy.

From afar, we join their mourning and sorrow.

Death, indeed, has a way of snatching 

the deepest joy with our beloved.

We know the feeling too well

of losing someone --

our heart is being ripped out.

So, our dears, we fully understand

their heartbreak and their anguish.

We offer them our deepest compassion,

prayers, and words of comfort.

For though we are not with them, 

our love binds us together. Forever.

Hope

 Pink is the color of HOPE

for a people that has been languishing

under the fascist regime of a cold-hearted 

leader and his cabal of clowns and the corrupt

for a nation that has seen the collapse of democracy

and the rule of law where killings made the 

headlines but cold-shouldered by the perpetrators

for a country known for its pride and honor

of its heroes and heroines, 

its history and heritage of freedom 

that's been trampled over and over

by dictators and pretend-leaders

with the red for a revisionist

the green to perpetuate the killings

and the yellow with its old politics

the dawning of hope has come

in an unexpectedly gentle hue

it's not red nor yellow nor green

it comes in a color so tender and right

that the people can hold on to

at last, pink has become the symbol~

of hope, of change, of trust.

My Sunrise

 My Sunrise

she of the free spirit wandered about

with pixie dust sprinkled along her paths

her exploits and feats unfurled in every wave

uncustomary though it seemed

she accessed the gifts of youth

and harnessed its realms of impossibilities

turned them into a reimagined never neverland

warped by time, her innocence vanished

with mind and eyes free and wide

they ushered in acceptance and awakening

from the fantasies and childlike dreams

with her spirit, still free yet pacified, no longer restive

she shed the enchanting realms of springtide

to cherish the unfolding of her womanity

perhaps she ceased to believe in magic ~

"it is only

the gay

the innocent

the heartless

who can fly".