It has been breaking my heart to start my work day with witnessing a separation anxiety attack from my son...as much as I enjoy spending quality time with Julio – reading him his favorite stories, giving him a bath, playing Speller Jr., etc. -- it also tears me up into pieces whenever he sees that I am about to leave him and he wails with a panic-stricken face: 'I will go to CCP with you! I will dance ballet with you'. I just toughen up myself when I leave the house and be thankful that I can leave my son to two households (mine and my in-laws) that love him to bits.
And this brings me to the feeling of gratitude in my life now. I have a beautiful family. I dance with a wonderful company. I am given a chance to portray a well-known character in a story ballet...an unexpected but really wonderful break...So it nags me whenever I'm on the brink of bitching about being so tired or of not being able to spend enough time with my husband, Ari, and with Julio, or of being not able to sleep long enough when Julio shouts at 7am (albeit with a lot of sweetness and endearment in his voice): WAKE UP, MAMA KITTY! Go down from the bed, Mama Kitty! -- that really...there is nothing to complain about and there's a lot more to be thankful for.
Maybe this train of thought was supported by quite a morbid “half a weekend” I had yesterday. All in a span of 24 hours I hear about a childhood friend losing her husband, aged 34, in a motorcycle accident (my friend is almost my age and they have a daughter around 6-7 years old)...my masseuse losing her three day-old baby due to a birth defect...watching in Starworld a moving bio pic, Romulus, My Father , which starred Eric Bana:
Synopsis
ROMULUS, MY FATHER is based on Raimond Gaita's critically acclaimed memoir. It tells the story of Romulus, his beautiful wife, Christina, and their struggle in the face of great adversity to bring up their son, Raimond.
It is the tale of a boy trying to balance a universe described by his deeply moral father, against the experience of heartbreaking absence and neglect from a depressive mother. It is, ultimately, a story of impossible love that celebrates the unbreakable bond between father and son.
I had to change channels in some scenes of the movie because it got depressing when it dealt with suicides of some characters. No wonder Raimond Gaita became a philospher and author. He really dealt a lot about life at a really young age. The ending was in a hopeful note. Raimund and Romulus set free upon a high cliff some almost dead bees (or some insignificant looking insects) and watch them fly to life. My night didn't end with that movie. I also watched a BBC-docu that my husband worked on as sound recordist. The topic? Pneumonia and children as its favorite victim. I couldn't NOT watch because this was something my husband worked on. The topic was not that depressing but it did make me think about the future of my son and what kind of life faces him here in Manila. You can still catch the docu “Survival” this week as it will still be aired.(check BBC website for sked ... plugging for the hubby. Yeah!)
It's a wonder I was still able to sleep well last night. I want to believe that somehow I'm anchored well in my relationship with God/Higher Being/the Universe that with all the complexities of life I still find in me a quiet center that is overflowing with gratitude and joy. I want to believe that somehow dancing helps me find that center. Just the act of going beyond one's self and feeling like a sacred instrument is good enough reason for me to go out there, leave my son for a while, and WORK. It would be a great day for me when WORK translates to this energy that can transfrom me in different levels...physical, mental, emotional, spiritual. That is something I would be thankful for. Then there are days when it all feels routinary and ordinary. When it feels blah...i remind myself that I should be thankful that at the very least, I'M ALIVE!
Musings of November 24, 2008 (22nd death anniversary of Aniceto C. Sanchez, my Father)
Kit S. Trofeo
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