Thursday
morning. I woke up with a mental list of to-do’s. $*|?**$ visit to deliver IV
fluids. Get back to do the laundry. With my second to the last PUJ jibe, the
open doors of the church invited me in so the last two hours were spent hearing
the mass. At the middle of the Eucharistic celebration, the heavy downpour
added darkness to the dusk creeping in. Having waited for ten minutes more, I
decided to wade waters to get to the last jitney back to the doctor’s quarter.
(So this is Manila and its famous flood.) My feet getting cold with the pooling
of rainwater inside my shoes reminded me of laundry powder so I dropped by in a
mart for some. Finally with the nighttime shower done, I hanged the last piece
of the three-day soiled uniforms for air drying by the washroom. After hungry
tummy pacified… Oh zzz’s, come to thee…
21May. World Day for Cultural Diversity. (Christ), in whom the whole building being fitted together,grows into a holy temple in the L-rd (Ephesians2:21) In the next coming years, I cannot imagine my daughter, a half-blooded Igorot whose father speaks Tagalog, mother who speaks Kankana-ey and Ilocano and schoolmates who speak Kapampangan or teachers speak English, how her liner would be. Further imagination brings me to hearing her say, "Adiak like idiay kung nasaan sina Lolo tan awan unay tao."
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