That’s the fun and ideal part of this whole exercise. However, I know other parents would agree with me that teaching lessons, no matter how we cherish the moment with our kids, is such a messy, chaotic, and often headache-inducing exercise. The same goes for us; we have numerous moments of negotiation and crying episodes. At the end of it all, I acknowledge my son for his effort and for doing well.

Lately, though, I was deliberately being strict with him. I thought he was just memorizing the lines of the stories we read, ready to recite the words robotically without really understanding their meaning.

At one point, he was enthusiastically reading the first few lines of Puss in Boots. However, when we got to the next pages, he couldn’t read some of the words that he’d previously learned. My patience quickly ebbed, and it became evident in my tone and the way I spoke to him. I noticed that my son gradually lost his confidence, to the point where he couldn’t even read simple prepositions. He was crushed and was on the brink of tears.

I didn’t give in because I thought he was only making excuses. We finished the fourth page of the book after much struggle and heightened emotions. I kissed and hugged him afterward (this is our routine), and then he ran to his mom. While in the safe arms of his mom, he let his guard down and cried. I knew I was too hard on him, and I said sorry for it.

The following day, as we were about to begin our reading lesson, he said he didn’t want Puss in Boots because it was hard. I explained that it’s hard when you are just starting, but it will eventually become easy once he masters reading.

He then said, “Ikaw kasi lagi ka nagagalit, takot tuloy ako.” That hit me hard. There were just a few instances in which I lost my cool, but that’s all he remembered. Instead of creating an enjoyable learning environment for him, I was eroding his confidence.

So, I answered, “Okay anak, iibahin na ni Daddy. Story lang tayo, and hindi na ako magagalit.” That reassured him, and when we began reading, he was more confident and seemed to be genuinely enjoying the story. He was happy when we were done.

I spoke to his mom and told her about the conversation between my son and me. I admitted that I was initially a little hard on him because I wanted to instill discipline and ensure he remembered the reading techniques I taught him. Just the same, he was still a little boy, wanting to feel cared for, seeking guidance and validation of his actions, and generally just beginning to learn new things.

Having said that, I realized I should be more intentionally calm when I’m teaching my son because I instantly saw the advantages: I observed he was more focused, more excited to learn, more determined to ace our reading exercise, and prouder of his daily progress.

This experience humbled me as a dad. At the same time, I appreciated my son’s honesty with me. I was happy because I realized that he still trusted me despite his initial dread of our learning sessions.

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By the way, I’m selling a Filipino e-storybook entitled “Ang Batang Nakipagkaibigan sa mga Alitaptap.” I think this is a good book to add to your reading exercises or nightly bedtime stories.

Buy it here!

I switched jobs. I left a company that I really liked in terms of culture and pay. Kaya lang, bilang isang padre de pamilya, I had to sacrifice the security that I was enjoying in that company because I needed the money. Gano’n naman talaga, lahat tayong lumulundag papunta sa ibang kumpanya; hangad lang ang magandang buhay. Even if that meant foregoing our comfort zone.

Paano nga naman, wala pa ring improvement itong bansa natin. Inflation, corruption, traffic, etc. Tayong mga ordinaryong mamamayan ang nagsasakripisyo habang ang ilan ay nagpapakasasa sa mga pinaghirapan natin. Kaya naman yung mga basic needs natin, ang mahal din. Halos walang natitira sa mga sweldo natin.

Kagaya ng karamihan sa atin, abot-abot lang ang sweldo ko buwan-buwan. Babayaran ako ng company ko, tapos ibabayad ko naman halos lahat sa mga utang ko.

Nangarap ako kasi para sa pamilya ko. Gusto kong mabigyan sila ng magandang buhay. Yung peace, katahimikan, and a good environment that they deserve. Kaya naman sinugalan ko na.

Sabi nga nila, wala naman kasing ideal time to go for our dreams. Hindi darating yun. We will never really be ready. There will come a time when we have to go for it, no matter how scary. At gano’n na nga rin ang ginawa ko.

I made a big decision na scary. Sabi kasi nila, the higher the stakes, the bigger the possible rewards.

Anyway, sorry, lumihis na ako ng topic haha…

Going back to What the Dog Saw, I “borrowed” it from a former colleague. In around October 2024, after we finished our major projects and product launches, we considered doing a “book exchange” within our team. The rule was simple: bring any book that you have read, put them on the common table, then choose the books that you wanted to read.

I brought two of my most loved books: The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky) and The Ocean at the End of the Lane (Neil Gaiman). I was happy when a colleague took both books; I felt appreciated.

I chose What the Dog Saw because I knew that Malcolm Gladwell’s books are insightful, practical, and packed with nuggets of wisdom (like Outliers).

I was already hooked as I flipped through the first few pages of the book. By the way, What the Dog Saw is a compilation of Gladwell’s 19 articles published in The New Yorker. The articles tackled diverse topics from business, politics, science, medicine, and sports, to name a few.

The articles were never boring. Long enough to include the important facts, and short enough so that they’re not dragging.

However much as I was engrossed with the book, I only got to read it on weekends. Specifically, mornings after breakfast. I’ll sneak in a few pages, and then off we were to take the kids out.

Before the 2026 Iran war, we made it a point to spend time outside with the kids. If we were not traveling, we went to the nearby mall. However, because of the geopolitical conflict that led to the surge in fuel and commodity prices, we thought it best to be more prudent when it came to spending.

We explained it to our kids, and we were glad that they understood. Of course, we still took them out. But since we were just near the malls, we just rode the tricycle, which they enjoy and look forward to.

Some of the stories that made a mark covered topics related to appliances, hair color, condiments, birth control pills, sports, the fall of Enron, dogs, and the 911 incident. I like the diversity of the topics covered and how well-researched they were.

I finally finished the book in June 2026. At last, I had some time on my hands when I left my new job also in that month. The gamble that I had to make, all for wanting a better future for my family, turned out to be a path full of frustration (and misery), all thanks to a bad manager. It was one of the most toxic workplaces that I’ve been to in my career.

One moment, my manager gave me a rating with flying colors. He was all praise and good words. Then I went to the office one day, and suddenly the atmosphere was a lot different. There was a slight tension in the air, subtle yet still palpable. In a snap, my manager’s words went from compliments to criticisms. It was a complete 180-degree turnaround, and nothing prepared me for it.

I know that I gave my best and did what the job called for. In the end, there was no other way but to accept reality and choose well-being over money. It was sad because, of all people, I thought my manager would be the first to understand my situation.

After all, we were both breadwinners. We came to work to afford a good life for our families; nothing else. I didn’t even have the illusion of getting rich. Sadly, I had no other choice but to go because my relationship with my former manager had gotten sour.

As a breadwinner, the uncertainties of joblessness took a heavy toll on me. I was anxious most of the time, and sleep had been elusive. I had to exhaust myself just to fall asleep. And even if I slept beyond 8 hours, I still felt unrested. It took a while before I could finally get a good night’s rest. Thankfully, I was able to find a new job soon after, and my mind and body gradually recovered.

I can put all of that experience behind me, but the memory lingers. I still get bad dreams, be jolted awake with dread of going to the office, until I realize that I’ve already tendered my last day at work. It’s like a mini trauma of sorts.

You are completely aware that you’ve already gotten past a bad experience, but the emotions involuntarily surge at times. On the brighter side, I’m grateful for having the maturity not to let that experience define me. Sabi ko nga, kung bata-bata ako, baka nagmukmok pa ako nang ilang linggo.

I would’ve wanted to finish What the Dog Saw straightaway. After all, the stories were good. Then again, life doesn’t always give us the ideal situation. Oftentimes, even if our intention were good, life gives us numerous detours and distractions. We don’t always win, even if we felt that we deserved the prize. That’s our reality.

How I wish things were only black and white, or good and bad. Like how we saw things when we were young — pure and innocent. Pag mabuti, kakampi natin. Pag masama, kaaway natin. Adulthood is complicated, or shall we even say, convoluted? Ang masama ay hindi automatically bad; baka may pinagdadaanan lang kasi. Ang mabuti naman, hindi laging kakampi. Baka naman kasi may kailangan lang.

Sana easy way na lang palagi para sa ating nangangarap at nagtitiyaga.

Sorry naman, nalihis na naman ako sa topic haha. Nasa What the Dog Saw lang naman ako dapat. Kaya lang, gano’n talaga ang buhay. As I look back, literal na reflection naman kasi talaga ng mga experiences ko these past two years itong pagbabasa ko ng aklat na ito.

Will I recommend the book? Definitely. Pero kaya naman naging memorable sa akin ang pagbabasa nito dahil sa bawat story na binasa ko, ramdam ko rin ang mga naging saya at sakit ko nitong huling dalawang taon.

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Sa pagkakatanda ko, mga 2008 nangyari ‘yun. Back when toxic bosses were tolerated and working in horrible workplaces was celebrated because it meant that you had a good-paying job. Well, that was before, and I’m glad that things have greatly improved a lot since then.

Many stereotypes have been shattered since then, including the illusion that one can only be called a writer when they have a good grasp of the English language.

The words of my former boss stuck, but I kept them not to discourage me. I took it as a challenge; I wanted to show him that I can do it. Sabi ko sa sarili ko na kahit hindi sa mainstream o corporate, kahit sa unconventional platform, papatunayan ko na kakayanin kong magsulat.

You see, writing has always been my source of pride & insecurity.

Noong high school ako sa probinsya, isa sa mga favorite kong assignments sa school ay ang composition writing and essays. Mas confident ako sa pagsusulat, mapa-English man ito o Tagalog/Filipino.

Mahina naman talaga ako sa Math, aminado ako dun, kaya naturally nag-gravitate ako sa writing. Masaya at proud ako sa sarili ko in knowing na sanay akong magsulat in long form.

Pero kagaya ng ibang mga high school students, sometimes present, madalas absent ang interes ko. Nahiya pa nga ako noong mga panahon na iyon. Dahil sa passion ko sa writing noong younger year levels ko, kinuha ako bilang Associate Editor ng school organ namin n’ung fourth year ako.

Kaya lang, bakit naman kaya gan’un? N’ung first edition, nagkaroon yata ako ng writer’s block. Hindi ko pa alam noon na ito pala ang tawag dito. Basta, hindi lang ako makapagsulat. Na-pressure yata ako.

Nagkaroon ng star section n’ung last year namin sa school. Puro magagaling ang mga kaklase ko. May ilan pa nga sa kanila, exceptionally good when it comes to their command of the English language.

Sabi ko, “Baka isipin nila na walang sense ang isusulat ko?” Mas lalo akong walang maisip; wala rin akong mapiga kahit ano ang gawin ko.

Sa first edition ng paper, isang news article lang ang nagawa ko. Pinilit pa ako ng adviser namin na mag-submit.

Dahil sa experience ko na ’yun, nag-promise ako sa sarili ko na babawi ako sa last edition ng paper namin. Gusto ko na hindi lang basta-basta ang ibibigay ko. Dapat memorable, dapat maganda, dapat kakaiba. At ‘yun naman talaga ang ginawa ko.

Nakapag-submit ako ng dalawang tula, dalawang essay pieces, at dalawang news articles. Sobra pa sa quota na four articles, kaya kinailangan ko pa mag-sacrifice ng isang article. I received a commendation from our adviser because of my submissions. Bumalik ang confidence ko. Sabi ko, “ah, ready na ako to conquer college.”

Noon din, nadiskubre ko na kailangan pala ng isang tao na magtutulak sa kanya para makapagsulat. Kailangan n’ya pala ng inspirasyon; hindi laging masaya, madalas pa nga ay malungkot upang buhayin ang creativity n’ya. Isang mabigat na experience para makalikha ng maganda. Kaya madalas din itong maihalintulad sa pagpapanday; kailangan mong dumaan sa isang masalimuot na proseso upang makabuo ng isang obra maestra.

Beautiful things are borne out of chaos, sabi nga nila.

Sa edad ko na iyon, akala ko peak na iyon ng mga heartbreak. Heartbreak from a first love and the heartbreak from a friend’s betrayal. May dinala akong angas sa mundo, kahit na sa ibang paraan ko dinivert. Sabi ko, I will show the world my greatness. I can be anything that I want.

At some point nga, akala ko ay pwede kong maging career ang pagsusulat, kaya lang namulat ako sa katotohanan na hindi naman ako kayang pakainin ng pagsusulat. Kagaya ng ibang hindi popular na industriya, napakakonti ng oportunidad para sa mga manunulat noong nangangarap pa lang ako.

Kaya naman mas pinili ko na pumasok sa science course n’ung nag-college ako. Mas marami daw opportunities dito kesa sa pagsusulat,

Hindi kagaya ngayon, dahil sa internet, maraming nagbukas na pintuan para sa mga manunulat na Filipino. Hindi na kailangang nakakahon lang sa media, pwede na rin sa corporate, self-publishing, copywriting, writing for clients abroad, at marami pa.

Unang linggo ng klase sa college, na-overwhelm na ako sa mga kasabayan kong estudyante. Ang gagaling, ang tatalino, ang lalalim mag-isip, at puro mga makakata.

“Wow, ang galing naman nila,” sabi ko sa sarili ko. Nagkaroon ako agad ng maraming insecurities dahil hindi ako makasabay sa talas ng isip ng mga kaklase ko. Hindi naman kasi advanced ang Math program namin nung high school kaya hirap na hirap ako sa Math 17 ko.

Nasabi ko sa sarili ko, “Ah, babawi na lang ako sa pagsusulat.” Pero science course nga pala ako. Iba ang scientific and research writing kumpara sa creative writing.

Okay ako pagdating sa GE subjects, pero sa major subjects ko na kailangan ng estilong mas teknikal sa pagsusulat, nahirapan ako.

Ang pinakamasakit, sa paglipas ng panahon, na-realize ko na nahirapan na rin ako sa English creative writing. Pumasok akong graduate assistant after college, pero naging struggle ko naman ang English writing. Kumbaga sa lapis, pumurol ako.

“Try reading English novels,” ang payo sa akin ng prof/boss ko. Sinunod ko naman s’ya. Nagbasa ulit ako ng mga English books. Ang pagkakamali ko lang, inilagay ko pa s’yang character reference.

Siniraan pa tuloy ako sa first job ko.

Hindi ko pala magamit ang science course ko kasi walang opening dito sa Pilipinas. Tsaka ayoko naman mag-abroad nung mga panahon na yon. Kaya ayun, tinanong ko ang sarili ko kung ano kaya ang kaya ko pang gawin bilang alternative job, kaya bumagsak ako sa copywriting.

Tinanggap din naman ako ng isang small ad agency as copywriter, pero may judgment na sa akin dahil sa comment nung prof ko.

Nakalipat ako sa ibang work, nag-gain ng new skills at nag-expand ng role beyond writing. Pero tuwing sumusulat ako, iba’t ibang masasakit na comments pa rin ang naririnig ko.

“Bakit ka naman magsusulat, e hindi ka naman Englishero?!?,” minsang sigaw sa akin ng boss ko.

Sa ibang pagkakataon naman, may tatawag sa article ko na “shallow.” Ang hirap naman kasi pag kailangan mong sumulat ng articles gamit ang balance sheet haha.

So as not to lose myself and my craft, I created my own opportunities. Doon ko na-discover ang blogging. Sabi ko, pwede akong mag-practice magsulat nang hindi ako ijujudge ng kahit na sino. Kahit ano ang isulat ko, I can be myself nang walang mananakit at sisigaw sa akin.

Long process, pero worth it naman. Marami rin akong naabot dahil sa blogging; brand collabs, being part of a group of fatherhood KOLs, nag-place din ako sa ilang blogging contests, at kumita kahit papaano ng pera sa blog ko.

Marami ring natutunan sa technical aspect ng blogging and simple coding. Salamat sa research at pag-self-study.

Nagbago man ang blogging landscape at napalitan na ng content creation, natagpuan ko naman itong Substack. Mas malaya magsulat, hindi de-kahon. Naramdaman ko ulit ang saya sa pagsusulat kagaya noong peak ng blogging. Pwede akong mag-express ng thoughts and emotions ko, kahit hindi SEO-friendly or evergreen content.

Best of all, I was able to polish my writing. Yun lang naman ang hiniling ko. Gusto kong maging confident sa pagsusulat. Hindi man naging magaling, mas naging confident naman ako. Hindi na ako natatakot magsulat. Kahit hindi ako Englishero, kaya ko sumulat ng English article, whether it’s an essay or a search-optimized travel blog.

Sa huli, hindi naman natin kailangang maramdaman na we are the greatest, na we are above the rest. Ang gusto lang natin, maramdaman yung freedom to express ourselves. Yung hindi nakakahon o sunud-sunuran lang sa ididikta ng ibang tao. Yung malaya ang isip natin kahit sabihin pang walang k’wenta ang gusto nating sabihin.

It was a privilege to go through the process of learning and relearning, stumbling and getting back up again, losing my voice and finding it again. It was a good ride; it made life more interesting and colorful. I’m happy where I am right now.

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Natuwa ako sa k’wento n’ya tungkol sa school ng anak n’ya. Sabi kasi n’ya, may ilan-ilan ding mga kaklase ang anak n’ya na nasa autism spectrum. Encouraged daw kasi ng school na isama sa mga neurotypical kids ang mga ito, as long as may go-signal from the developmental pediatrician and may mga shadow teachers na nakaalalay. The kids are also verbal (or kaya mag-sign language), so that seems to be a requirement as well para maisama ang mga neurodivergent kids sa neurotypical kids.

Unang-una, gusto ko lang sabihin na natutuwa ako dito sa school na ito. I believe this is a good way to instill solid knowledge in neurotypical kids about how to socialize and deal with neurodivergent kids (and vice versa). Maganda kasi talaga na magkaroon ng strong foundation ang mga bata para paglaki nila mas alam nila kung paano mag-deal with autistic individuals. Mas understanding sila sa mga batang hindi nila katulad and, in case may makita silang may struggle, p’wede nila itong matulungan.

Kung hindi pa ito ginagawa sa iba, sana maging inspiration ito for other schools to follow suit. Wish ko lang naman. I know some schools kasi na outright nirereject yung ibang kids with special education needs, although wala ako’ng issue about it since baka wala silang capability or specialized skills to handle such cases.

Ang isa pang tumatak mula sa conversation namin ay yung sinabi ng friend namin na literal na buong community naman talaga ang dapat ma-involve sa pagbibigay ng malasakit sa mga special needs individuals.

This brings to mind a recent news story I read about an autistic individual who was hit by a car.

One comment to that news post stuck in my mind because it made so much sense and called for the same unity within the community in ensuring the safety of autistic persons and special needs individuals.

The comment went like this:

• Kung kakilala n’yo naman ang bata at nakita ito sa labas na parang walang kasama, approach the child and ask if may kasama ba s’ya or alam ba ng guardians n’ya na lumabas s’ya.

Naalala ko tuloy nung time na nag-grocery kami at bigla na lang tumakbo si Miguel sa likod ng mga shelves, at biglang tumakas palabas. Buti nahabol s’ya ni yaya, pero papunta na talaga s’ya sa highway. Nung pagbalik nila, ang sabi ng guard, hindi daw n’ya kasi alam kung pipigilan n’ya o hindi yung bata.

S’yempre, hindi naman kasalanan ng guard yun kasi hindi rin naman n’ya talaga alam ang tamang handling pag ganun. Pero naisip ko rin na since minor naman, maging standard procedure na tanungin yung bata kung san s’ya pupunta pag nakitang walang kasama palabas ng isang establishment.

• Pag nasa kalsada tayo at may nakita tayong bata o isang tao na parang walang sense of danger, parang hindi alintana ang panganib sa kanyang paligid, mag-menor na o magdahan-dahan sa pagmamaneho.

• Ang mga autistic kids ay naturally attracted sa water or bodies of water. Kaya naman, siguraduhing may takip lagi ang mga malalalim na lalagyan ng tubig o kaya ay siguraduhing masinop ang mga hukay na maaaring kahulugan ng kahit sinuman.

Pag nakakabasa ako ng mga ganitong comments sa social media, natutuwa ako kasi alam kong may mga nakakaintindi rin sa situation ng mga special needs persons.

Marami kasi sa atin, dahil hindi naman nila naiintindihan ang situation ng mga may special needs, ang tendency ay magalit sa kanila o kaya saktan sila agad pag may nagawa ang mga ito na hindi natin nagustuhan o ayon sa ating mga nakasanayan.

Tulad na lamang nung nangyari sa binata na nabugbog sa bus.

Nakatakas lang s’ya dahil nalingat ang bantay n’ya at hindi napansin na nakalabas ng gate. Habang nasa bus, dahil hindi pamilyar sa ingay at paligid, nagkaroon ng meltdown yung binata.

Akala ng ibang pasahero na nanggugulo ito, kaya binugbog nila. Nakakalungkot lang na kailangang may taong lubos na masaktan dahil lang sa hindi naintindihan ng iba ang sitwasyon n’ya.

Again, that’s why it takes a whole community to ensure the safety of special needs individuals. As a parent (and as with other parents), we don’t ask for other people’s preferential treatment of our children. We’re just trying to spread awareness so that people would be more caring and understanding of our special needs kids when we are not around to guide them anymore, whatever their situation may be.

I remember this one instance when we were in Tagaytay. We were on a farm, looking at the rabbits in their cages when someone with a dog walked near where we were.

We never really paid attention to the dog nearby because Miguel often just ignored them. However, it was different at that time. Out of nowhere, Miguel whipped the dog with the dry twig he was holding. It was really just a gentle tap, and the twig was flimsy, but we saw that the dog seemed surprised.

But what caught me off guard even more was how the dog’s owner reacted. In a firm and irritated tone, the person said, “No! No!” I readily held Miguel and his hands; we turned toward the person and the dog, and I said, “Sorry po!” because Miguel was non-verbal.

The person said, voice still tinged with irritation, “Don’t do that kasi baka magalit yung dog and kagatin ka,” to which I replied, “Sorry po ulit!”

Again, I kept my cool despite the person’s raised voice and annoyance. I mean, I understand that some people treat their dogs as children, and they (the owners) could get agitated like any other parent if their child is hurt by other kids.

On the other hand, they could choose to be diplomatic and just say “don’t do that because he might bite” in a civil tone since, in our case, Miguel just gently tapped the dog on the head with a dry and limp twig.

Uulitin ko, hindi naman kami humihingi ng special privilege. May nakita rin kasi akong post sa social media na sobrang inaway ng ibang tao yung isang special needs parent dahil inaakusahan nila na nagde-demand daw yung mga kagaya namin ng mas favored na treatment. Hindi daw namin dapat ginagawa yun kasi responsibilidad daw namin na maging doble o tripleng ingat sa mga anak namin.

Tama rin naman yung ibang mga tao dahil kaming mga parents and guardians ang primarily responsible sa mga anak namin. Pero kung nasa situation namin kayo, maiintindihan n’yo na higit pa rito ang ginagawa namin just to ensure the safety of our kids. Pero dahil nga sa inclined sila to have an escape behavior, talagang gagawa at gagawa sila ng paraan para tumakas.

Sabi ko nga, kung pwede lang na itali namin sa amin ang mga anak namin, ginawa na namin. Kaya lang, gusto rin namin na maranasan nila na maging malaya at mag-explore sila dahil karapatan nila iyon.

Sa huli, konting pang-unawa, pasensya, at simpatiya lang ang hinihiling namin para naman mabuhay nang ligtas ang mga anak namin kahit wala na kami. Para naman kahit papaano, maging mapayapa rin ang isipan naming mga magulang na may mga neurodivergent children.

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• I’m Glad They Understand

• The Joys of Raising A Child with Autism

• Continuing The Fight For Autism Awareness

Take, for example, the concept of the last meeting theory. Simply put, it explains that when two people have fulfilled their purpose in each other’s lives (say, through lessons, probably some guidance, or even friendship), the universe stops their paths from ever crossing again.

This idea caught my attention because I have an exact same experience. Back in 1998, I’d just started college. I was recovering from heartbreaks from high school (the first “love” that I lost and a broken friendship), hence I was looking for a fresh start. I wanted a new circle of friends, of course with similar interests and values.

I instantly became friends with 3 other guys from our block. We had common interests, and one of those was exploring the different corners of our university. We also loved 90s cartoons; we were still little kids at 16 years old, if you think about it. We were happy just being rowdy boys exchanging jokes with each other, annoying our girl block mates, looking for the best street foods around the campus, and discovering hidden roads at the back of old buildings. We were also busy sulking over our least favorite subjects (I hated Math; they hated KOM & KAS haha).

By the middle of the semester, we were down from 4 to 3 because the other one became delinquent and irregular. Eventually, we were down to 2 because our other barkada eventually found his place with his kababayans.

Now, let’s call my remaining friend “Mojacko” because we both loved that show and it was super popular at that time. He also told me that I sounded like “Sorao” in the Tagalog version. We were both promdis, and we missed our homes, so we often talked about our hometown, our families, and our high school experiences.

Our dreams and plans were also constant topics of our conversation. Sometimes we wanted to be scientists and do research. Oftentimes, we just wanted to have regular office jobs and go back to our respective provinces and start our families. He wanted to transfer to a constituent university that is near their hometown. I said that was good, at least he wouldn’t have to keep up with the pace and expenses of the big city. At the back of my mind, though, I was wishing that he would reconsider because he was the only close friend that I had at that time. I couldn’t keep up with our other batchmates who were cool, rich, and smart.

Mojacko was the mischievous one, often calling people names, especially those who looked like cartoon characters (Daffy Duck, and whatever funny cartoon personality he suddenly remembered). He laughed at my Novo Ecijano accent and my generous use of “kwan” and “yari” in my sentences. In contrast, he was interestingly religious and deeply prayerful. He even gave me a prayer to Padre Pio.

We continued our quest to try all the fishballs sold in different stands around campus. On other occasions, we would go with our adventurous girl classmates (the Manilenyas as we called them because we were both promdis) and ask them to show us where we could have the best and most affordable lutong bahay in the barangays along the fringes of the university.

They led us through a suspicious-looking neighborhood, but the carinderia turned out to be one of the best in the area. I still couldn’t forget their Batchoy Tagalog, sinigang, dinakdakan, bopis, and many more.

By the middle of the second semester, something unexpected happened, though. Mojacko didn’t show up in our class one Monday. We were in college, so we were not really obliged to advise our professor why we were absent. That was fine, and nobody worried about you.

By Tuesday, he still wasn’t around. I checked if he was in his other classes, but he wasn’t there. That was fine; I thought he had the flu and needed more time to recover.

By Wednesday, though, there was still no sign of him. I was already worried. Now, we didn’t have cellphones at that time yet. I was worried that something had happened to him. I didn’t know his family, and I couldn’t recall where he lived in Quezon City (he was living with his cousin; that’s all I knew).

By Friday, I finally got a call from his cousin. He told me that Mojacko had a motorcycle accident during the weekend. He had a new motorcycle and was excited to use it. He had just gotten home from Manila, and it was already dark, but he still insisted.

According to the cousin, Mojacko’s injuries were severe, and he needed to be operated on. He’d already lost a significant amount of weight over the last few days. They needed my help in securing his professors’ signatures for his leave of absence because it was close to the deadline for filing it. As the dutiful friend, I readily said yes. I also prayed for the best.

After about two or three days, I met with Mojacko’s cousin to hand him the document. It was my first time seeing him. According to him, the operation was a success, and Mojacko was already recuperating. He was already awake.

The cousin also told me they would take the opportunity to cite medical reasons and accomplish the requirements for his transfer to the constituent university. They said the university is more considerate of such cases. I was happy for Mojacko; at least he’d get to fulfill his dream, even if it were in an unconventional route.

I said goodbye to the cousin because I was heading to my next class. That was the last time I heard of Mojacko.

At that time, it was easier to move forward with one’s life because we didn’t have any cellphones and there was no social media yet. Writing letters was too cringey haha, and we were too stingy for long-distance telephone calls.

We just learned to accept that people come and go in our lives. We will all part ways at some point, and we acknowledge that we may never again meet or even hear from each other again. We accept the fact that the next news about our friends might be about their passing away.

I ultimately went on with my college life. I had some close friends; we all went our separate ways after each semester. I’d sometimes think about Mojacko and our little adventures around the campus as promdi boys who were fresh out of high school. Our simple dreams and the common yearning for home.

In 2005, during the height of Friendster’s popularity, I thought of searching for Mojacko. I found him and added him as a friend. We exchanged a few messages, but I couldn’t recall the details too much. We didn’t talk about life like we used to.

Friendster closed, and I had a Facebook account. Again, I remembered searching for Mojacko in 2015 or 2016. We both already had families of our own at that point. In hindsight, I wasn’t familiar with him anymore. He seemed to have a good position in his company; he looked like an executive. I was happy for him, how things turned out for the better after his accident.

We both have grown so much since 1998. We were already changed people, and we hardly knew each other anymore. That’s when I realized we were only meant to be good friends in the months that we were together in college.

After that, we had to part ways and move on with our lives. It was fleeting, and I had the feeling it was only meant to help us survive the first few months in an unfamiliar place, in a sea of strange personalities.

Beyond that, we were never really meant to cross paths again (at least metaphorically). I found Mojacko on social media, but he was already as alien as our other acquaintances back in 1998.

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I was immediately struck by it because, finally, I found a term for one of the things that I fear most for my neurotypical boy, and that is harboring feelings of envy and resentment for his Kuya if we are not careful. I was afraid that we were giving too much attention to Miguel and overlooking our youngest, Rafa.

There were instances that I observed it happening in my family, moments in which Rafa would ask, “Bakit si Kuya pwede…”, “Bakit si Kuya ganito….”, “Bakit si Kuya ganyan…”, “Mas love mo si Kuya.”

During those times, we could only explain to our little boy that sometimes, we just have to be a little more lenient or even more generous to his Kuya because Miguel is different. Miguel wasn’t like him; he couldn’t talk yet, and he couldn’t understand things the way that we perceive our surroundings.

Marami rin moments na nasasaktan ako para sa bunso ko. Kung minsan, iniisip ko na baka nagsasabi na lang sya ng “yes” sa mga requests and lessons namin sa kanya just to please us.

That’s why, beyond those emotionally charged moments, even in our normal conversations, I explain to Rafa that his Kuya is different and may need more understanding from us. He may need more patience from us for us to comprehend his needs because he can’t talk yet.

Today, we had another trying moment for our little boy. One of Rafa’s “diamond paintings” caught the attention of Miguel because it had texture. It had embossed “diamond” stickers, and Miguel thought it amusing to pry away each sticker. Literal na tinungkab n’ya isa-isa yung mga diamante na pinagt’yagaan ni Rafa idikit last weekend. Natural nagalit ang bata, and he kept saying, “Nakakinis naman si Kuya!”

Then about 15 minutes after that, Miguel shook the butaka chair in which I put down Rafa’s school bag. The bag fell, and together with it, his water bottle tumbled down. The cap popped open, spilling its contents on the floor.

Again, Rafa shouted. “Daddy, tingnan mo o. Si Kuya na naman. Nakakainis talaga s’ya!”

I hugged Rafa and told him not to be too hard on his Kuya. Sabi ko na rin na huwag s’ya maiinis. Hindi pa naman kasi naiintindihan ni Kuya yung mga actions n’ya kaya talagang may mga moments na magkakamali pa rin talaga s’ya.

We need to understand Kuya because he is not like us. Okay lang na ma-frustrate s’ya dahil right naman n’ya yun, but don’t use that emotion para tuluyang magalit or eventually kamuhian n’ya si Kuya n’ya or to feel na mas favored namin ang brother n’ya.

At times, I explain to Rafa that he also has a big role to play in caring for his Kuya, without it sounding like a burden to him. I don’t want him to feel that his Kuya will be his responsibility in the future. He has his own life to live and dreams to fulfill when he grows up. However, just check on his Kuya from time to time to make sure that he’s alright.

Lastly, I try to spend more time carefully explaining to Rafa his Kuya’s condition and how we need to be extra understanding of Kuya.

Of course, so that Rafa doesn’t feel neglected, we also emphasize that we love him and that Mommy and I love both of them very much.

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They often grapple with the reality of who would take care of their kids when the inevitable happens.

It’s the same for me, for us at home.

I share the same fears as my fellow autism parents:

• Takot akong mawalan ng trabaho dahil baka hindi ko masuportahan ang mga pangangailangan ng pamilya ko.

• Takot akong lisanin itong mundo na ito at walang mag-aalaga sa anak ko.

• Takot akong makaranas s’ya ng kalupitan pag wala na ako para protektahan s’ya.

• Takot akong makaranas s’ya ng diskriminasyon at hindi mabigyan ng pantay na karapatan.

• Takot ako pag na-iisip ko na sa future ay may mga bagay s’yang gustong gawin pero hindi s’ya mabigyan ng pagkakataon na gawin ito dahil sa kalagayan n’ya.

• Takot akong isipin na hindi n’ya makayang intindihin ang mga nangyayari sa paligid n’ya pag wala na ako.

• Higit sa lahat, bilang magulang, takot ako kapag naiisip ko na walang magmamahal sa kanya na kagaya o kapantay ng pagmamahal ko.

Then again, because we live in constant fear, we are fueled by the dream of seeing a more inclusive and rosier future for our children here in the Philippines.

Whenever Mommy Khris and I talk, we’d always touch on the topic of the future, when we are already too old to work or when we are no longer in this world. We are doing what we can to prepare Miguel for the future; we want him to be fully independent and be able to care for himself. We want him to be able to pursue the things that he wants and hopefully be able to work without experiencing prejudice.

However, we are also fully aware that we can only do so much in terms of the controllables. We can’t predict what will happen in the future. Nevertheless, we are hoping that Miguel’s little brother Rafa will always be there to support him, maybe check up on him if he is doing fine. We also want Rafa to have a life of his own and to pursue his own dreams.

The present itself is too much to handle; the mounting cost of therapy, the lack of therapy centers and specialists, the scarcity of development experts, among the many other things that we have to think about on a daily basis. I used to not compute our annual expenses for occupational and speech therapies. I just pay the bills when the billing statements are sent to me.

In one of our conversations while eating dinner, Mommy Khris told me that we were paying more than P100,000 each year to one therapy center alone. I was surprised, because I didn’t know that it was that much.

The monthly expenses didn’t seem too much, but when you add everything, you’d be surprised that it was that high. And the cost goes even higher each year, thanks to inflation. This is the same challenge for other special needs families.

On a further note, I am also one with the whole autism community in advocating for the following:

A supportive society that will give opportunities to special needs individuals. It need not be anything big. A good example would be restaurants that hire autistic individuals

A supportive community that will extend kindness to families and guardians of special needs children.

A home for individuals like my son. I’m thinking of something similar to a home for the aged, but a specialized facility that would care for individuals with special needs.

Stipend from the government to help needy families with therapy sessions, education, etc. If not that, then I hope there would be more government-funded therapy centers to help bring the cost down.

A big step towards this call would be the recent approval of Senate Bill No. 1822, or the National Autism Care, Support, and Inclusion Act, in support of care and inclusivity for persons with autism (although I hope the government can also include support for other types of neurodivergent conditions).

I just hope our government can implement this at the soonest possible time. This is an urgent call. In fact, I know some parents who had to stop therapy for their kids because they couldn’t afford the expenses anymore.

Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed and hoping for the best.

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Having said that, at this age and time, I still get surprised that there are still children who are not taught to be respectful. I mean, basic respect for the people around them.

I have another story. Well, more of Rafa’s story, which he told me last week. This involves the same child who kept insisting that his toy was fake. Not in a joking manner, but in a snobbish and boastful tone. This time, though, she used a person’s profession, uttered in a condescending tone (similar to name-calling) and seemingly meant to annoy Rafa.

Anyway, Rafa told me that he and the other boys were assigned by their teacher to sweep the floor and clean the pieces of paper that fell on the floor.

As Rafa was busily doing his chore, his classmate went up to him and said, “Ah, street sweeper haha!”

Then I asked Rafa how he answered back, and he said that he just ignored the girl. I said that it was just fine, but the next time the classmate does that again, he can opt for several ways to respond:

• “Ok lang, good boy naman ako.” This is his preferred response because it was straight to the point and short.

• “Ok lang, respectable naman ang street sweeper.”

• “Ok lang, wala naman masama sa street sweeper. Hine-help nila tayo para clean yung surroundings natin.” This is Rafa’s least preferred response because he said it was too long.

While we were talking, I urged him to also use or say the response that being a street sweeper was a respectable job. I explained to Rafa that any job is respectable and decent as long as you are not doing any harm to anyone.

You can be a street sweeper, a policeman, a doctor, a carpenter; whatever you choose to be as long as it’s what you want and it’s not causing any damage, harm, or injury to yourself and to the people around you. There’s nothing wrong with your choices if you are a responsible person and you are using that as a means to support yourself or your loved ones.

Going back to the classmate who said that, I’m a bit shocked at where they learned to be discriminating against a person’s profession. To use that as a way to annoy another child must mean that they learned that somewhere. If not from the parents, then from other people who are close to them. That’s why we should always talk to our children, ask them to tell us stories or how their day went, and filter out things that may not do them any good.

No status in life will ever give us the right to be arrogant and look down on others.

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Not long after, Chocolait made a curious return to the Philippine market. I was happy because it’s a brand that I am familiar with. Even so, I still thought that there was no real difference in taste between Chuckie & Chocolait, and if ever there was, it was only subtle.

Well, that’s what I thought, until Rafa interestingly told me a few days ago that Chocolait tasted better than Chuckie.

Quick backstory lang, we usually buy Chuckie, yung mga nasa small cartons, for our kids’ baon sa school.

One time, naubusan kami ng Chuckie sa bahay. We really intended to replenish our Chuckie stash.

Our usual routine after ko sunduin si Rafa from school is to go to a nearby grocery store to buy snacks. Habang namimili si Rafa ng meryenda, bigla n’ya akong tinawag and sabi n’ya na gusto daw n’ya i-try yung isang chocolate drink sa ref habang nakaturo sa Chocolait.

“Anak, same naman ng lasa yan sa Chuckie,” sabi ko.

“Gusto ko i-try, Daddy,” sabi ni Rafa.

So sabi ko, “Sige.”

From then on, we would regularly buy Chocolait dun sa store. Akala ko nu’ng una curious lang talaga s’ya kasi nga iba yung packaging ng Chocolait. So one time, tinanong ko s’ya kung ayaw n’ya ba yung Chuckie.

“No, Daddy. Mas masarap yung Chocolait,” sabi nya sakin. Medyo nagulat ako and somehow in disbelief. Akala ko kasi na, for kids, pareho lang naman ang Chuckie and Chocolait.

Honestly, mas may bias ako sa Chocolait just because it was also my most loved drink when I was a kid in the 90s. As such, that preference is more for sentimental reasons.

Meanwhile, I consider Chuckie to be the 2000s’ alternative to Chocolait. Pang modern kids na, kumbaga. Mas uso or mas “in.”

I did a quick Chuckie vs. Chocolait search on Google, and this is what I got:

Apparently, Chuckie is formulated more for kids, while Chocolait is more adapted to adult taste buds (bagay nga sa mga laging nostalgic na katulad ko). Curiously, mas gusto ni Rafa ang lasa ng Chocolait.

Anyway, naaliw lang naman ako sa recent conversation namin ng anak ko, kaya ko nai-share. Simpleng usap namin ng anak ko, pero sigurado ako, mami-miss ko ito someday (or I’ll fondly recall it) pag lumaki na s’ya.

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This morning, while I was cleaning my desk, I found Rafa’s old school activity from a forgotten corner between books that I have yet to read. The single piece of paper was from his Pre-K class. What brought a wave of memories was Rafa’s handprint on the paper and how small it looked.

As I gazed at the artwork, the following thoughts came rushing into my head:

“His handprint looked so tiny; it seemed like it was from a baby’s hand.” Well, he was technically still a baby when he made that school project.

“He grew up so fast.” I know this is already cliché, but that’s just the truth. It’s a universal fact for parents that’s still so hard to accept.

It becomes harder to grasp when you realize that the handprint was made just two short years ago. Pre-Kinder. Rafa is only in first grade.

Ganun ba talaga kabilis ang paglipas ng panahon? Well, folks, parang ganun na nga. If you scale our time here on Earth versus geological time, we are merely passing by in the blink of an eye.

Nevertheless, instead of wallowing in the swiftness of our journey in this life, we can make the most of it.

Here are some simple ways to do it:

Spend as much time as you can with your kids

I know this is easier said than done for a lot of dads, especially the working dads. When you are too tired, willpower alone may not always be enough to rouse you physically and mentally. It also doesn’t help that our patience is short when we are exhausted. As such, rest well and recharge so that we are our best versions when we spend time with our children and loved ones.

Maswerte ako because I was able to take a month off work. I’m currently transitioning to another job, and I made sure to have a long break so that I can spend time with my kids, especially Rafa (mas favorite nya kasi ang Mommy nya, but that’s fine).

I wanted to bring him to school and fetch him after. Not only that, but I also wanted to be involved in his lessons, teach him how to read, take care of his meals, etc. I wanted to do all of that before I embark on another chapter in my career.

Sulitin mo ang lambing nila

Habang bata lang unlimited ang lambing nila. When they grow up, they will have their own world and interests. Sad to say, parents are usually excluded from their own space as they grow up. I mean, we may not be totally out of the picture, but our access to their world will definitely be significantly limited.

That’s why we should take advantage of the moments when they are extra sweet or affectionate to us, such as when they request us to feed them, accompany them when they want to play, hug them, read them stories, tuck them to bed, and so on.

Give them unlimited kisses

I gave this a dedicated section because I feel that kids will only allow kisses at a certain age, especially if they are boys. Beyond that, they will stop giving and resist receiving altogether; no bargaining, no compromising.

Kaya ako, each chance I get, I will ask my kids to kiss Daddy haha.

Listen to their stories

A few days ago, I read a touching story on TikTok about a dad who drives his son to school. It was just a 5-minute ride, but the dad admitted that at times, because he is too preoccupied thinking of the day’s agenda, he would ignore his son’s stories.

He realized later on that time is fleeting, so he made it a point to listen to his son’s stories intently. After all, it was just a 5-minute ride. There will come a time when there will no longer be driving to school, no more talkative little boy in the backseat, and thinking about that impending future already makes him nostalgic and miss his son.

This story struck me because this is similar to our daily routine. We would ride a pedicab on the way to school, and Rafa and I would talk about random things like toys, when we would go to Disneyland, the stuff that he sees around us, and so on. After school, on the way home, he would also tell me stories about how his day went and his classmates.

The mere thought of this routine ending at some point already makes me sad. Until then, we will continue with our daily stories.

Join them in activities that interest them

One of the best ways to spend time with them is to join them in things that interest them, like drawing, movies, games, cooking, and many more. It’s also a good way to de-stress, so you’re hitting two birds with one stone: relaxing while bonding with your kids.

Create wonderful memories with them

When we think about creating wonderful memories, we often think of traveling or going out. Hindi lang naman laging ganun, especially kapag may budget constraints. Pwedeng afternoon walks in the park, mga house activities like making popsicles, building robots out of recycled materials, and many more.

Hold their hand

It feels special to hold a child’s hand. You can sense your child’s trust in you and his love for you as his little hand fits snugly in your palm. Again, hold their hands as much as you can because you can only do that for a limited time.

These are how we do it at home. I know other dads have their own style; there’s no right or wrong, and whatever works for them is perfectly fine.

I’d love to know your stories as well. Feel free to share them in the comment section below.

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I have to keep myself reminded of that because sometimes, kids may just be a little playful or joking, but because of what they hear from adults, watch on TV, or see on social media, they tend to blur the lines between true bullying and teasing. It’s a good practice that I suggest to other dads.

Having said that, I calmly asked him what the bullying was all about. Rafa told me what happened; according to him, that particular classmate would point the pencil’s eraser at his face. I asked him if the eraser touched him in any way, and he said no.

I would ask him twice, repeating the important details of his story to check for consistency. On many occasions, his stories were accurate, all the while explaining to him that sometimes, what other children do may not necessarily be bullying. It can be a joke, an invitation to play, a sign that someone is fond of him and wants to be friends, and so on.

However, if he reckoned that he may be hurt by a person’s actions or if he felt threatened, then he should learn how to defend himself.

Here’s exactly what I told him:

Never start a fight

He should never pick on anybody, provoke his friends, or hurt anyone physically or emotionally. Don’t use bad words or mock anyone for their physical appearance, the toys they have, the clothes they’re wearing, the food they’re eating, or even their school essentials.

Always be alert

I also remind Rafa to be observant and never let his guard down, especially if it involves sharp objects like pencils, ballpens, cutters, and even pointed toys.

I also tell him to keep his eyes on his classmates who are being rough and tell his teacher once they begin to become hurtful or aggressive.

Give them one warning

Yes, just one warning. I told him to say, “Don’t do that!” or “I don’t like that” in a firm and serious tone.

Again, just one warning. After that, he can either gently push his classmate’s hand away while maintaining his alertness if they continue annoying him or become physical.

Strike back if you must

I told Rafa not to let anyone hurt him. Dodge anyone who tries to strike or hurt him, and hit back to let the person know that he doesn’t tolerate such actions.

I repeated those instructions to him for several days as part of our daily lessons, emphasizing that he should exercise maximum tolerance and not let anyone lay a finger on him.

The following day, when I picked him up after class, Rafa told me that his classmate was still being unruly and kept pestering him. Finally, when the said classmate aimed the pencil eraser at his face, Rafa pushed her hand away. The classmate reacted by pushing Rafa’s shoulder, so he did the same. The classmate finally stopped, as if offering a truce; she motioned for them to fist-bump, and that’s what Rafa did.

As we rode the trike on the way home, Rafa couldn’t hold his excitement as he repeated the story. He was proud that he was able to apply what I taught him, and was also happy that he was now “friends” with his classmate.

I told him I was proud of him, but gently reminded him to just do the same in case any of his classmates start crossing the line again. At the same time, I also told him that his classmates’ actions may not always be considered bullying; it may just be an invitation for them to play, or maybe they just want to be friends with him.

I also remind that it’s not always a good thing to be overly sensitive. Otherwise, he’d think that everyone is out there to hurt him or mistreat him. It’s always advisable to analyze the situation, express disagreement if he doesn’t agree with somebody’s actions, and act accordingly if he feels threatened.

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This is a practice we continue even in Metro Manila, especially since we have kids of our own. This year, I ordered desserts instead of cooking at home. What I do miss most, though, is exchanging homemade delicacies with our neighbors, even if we were both holding plates of biko with latik.

If you are a dad like me, I’m sure a part of your daily prayer is for your kids' health and well-being. Every chance we get, we ask for the safety of our children and loved ones. In fact, I believe we pray for our kids more than we do for ourselves. And when we pray for ourselves, it’s still about asking for strength so that we can support them well.

On a further note, I’m sure many parents are also worried about their children’s safety these days, what with all the recent news about violence involving minors.

School shootings, stabbing incidents, school brawls, etc.: I shudder, knowing the randomness of those atrocities.

I used to only hear news about school shootings in the US. I used to think it odd that such incidents seemed to have the highest occurrence in the US.

Nevertheless, I was also wishing that we wouldn’t have to deal with such incidents here in the Philippines.

It doesn’t help knowing that some Pinoys are easily influenced by what they see on social media and do the same.

I hope the recent school shooting incidents are isolated cases, although it’s hard to discount the idea that the minors involved might have been groomed by external influences to do such crimes. That fact is even more alarming, since the world is so open and connected via the World Wide Web.

Strangers have access to kids via social media, online games, and the like. Strangers can manipulate kids’ minds in the guise of games and other seemingly innocent activities. We really can’t tell who or what’s lurking in cyberspace.

That’s why we parents need to be mindful of the activities that our children do, what they access on the web, and even subtle changes in their behavior. Let’s guide them and be present for them whenever we can so that they grow up to be kind individuals.

As we celebrated the Feast of San Buenaventura this year, I realized that some traditions become even more meaningful once you have children of your own. What used to be a simple family custom has become a yearly reminder to be grateful for our kids and to never take their safety and well-being for granted.

The world our children are growing up in is very different from the one we knew, and while we can’t control everything they will encounter, we can choose to be present in their lives.

We can listen to them, guide them, teach them kindness, and help them make good decisions. Hopefully, that’s enough to give them a strong foundation as they navigate an increasingly connected world.

I hope this tradition continues for many more years; not just because of the food or the memories it brings, but because it reminds us to cherish our children, appreciate the time we have with them, and do our best to help them grow into compassionate, responsible adults.

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You see, I’ve never been the religious type, but I’ve always been prayerful. I was raised Catholic pero napansin ko na hirap talaga ako mag-concentrate during Holy Mass. Up to this day, I still can’t get past halfway through the Holy Mass without getting distracted. My thoughts often wander until I snap back and realize that I have a celebration to finish.

I don’t know how other people go through Holy Mass without flinching; they’re either equipped with a marksman’s concentration, or they’re also just feigning it like me. I remember the old folks in my town and even some of my classmates back in high school. I used to admire them for their steadfastness and stern contemplation.

That being said, I try to make up for the slip-ups by praying throughout the day. It’s not a formal prayer that I recite; it can be as simple as thanking God for whatever I have on a particular day: the food on the table, a safe commute to the office, and so on.

Later on, I realized that we don’t really need to be gravely reverent for our desires to be granted. I learned later on that a simple prayer, uttered with utmost sincerity, doesn’t go unnoticed. I have proven this on many different occasions throughout the years.

As long as you truly want something, the universe will conspire to help you achieve it (borrowed from The Alchemist).

This, I have recently validated again.

A quick story: during the first quarter of this year, I went through a crisis of sorts related to my job. It peaked in late March to early April. Coincidentally, it was the Holy Week at that time. It was supposed to be a well-deserved long break, but I was working like crazy and taking little rest in between tasks. It was hectic.

To take my mind off work, I’d quickly browse through social media. I honestly like looking at photos of old churches that people go to for their Visita Iglesia. Of course, my social media feed was flooded with videos and images of religious pilgrimages, both from my friends and random strangers.

Since my mind was in a swirl, I just thoughtlessly scrolled through my newsfeed. My resounding thought was that I wanted an answer even if I didn’t have a clear or specific question in my head (ganun kagulo lang ang utak ko).

It was then that a video of La Virgen Divina Pastora appeared in my TikTok feed.

As a Novo Ecijano, the image of the Divine Sheperdess instantly caught my attention. La Virgen Divina Pastora is the patroness of Nueva Ecija and a miraculous image, known to grant prayers to those who call on to her. For centuries, the Divina Pastora was venerated by devotees not just from Central Luzon but from all over the country.

I immediately stopped and watched the video.

“Could this be a sign? Shall I ask, Inang?” I said to myself. Back then, I already had a target company in mind, but there were quite a number of obstacles along the way (mostly internal processes and due diligence). I liked the position that I was interviewed for, but it was seemingly impossible for me to get in because of the stringent hiring procedure due to my work background.

I kept replaying the video of the Divina Pastora, and as I did so, I said a prayer and asked for her intercession that if the position was truly for me, I hope it could be granted.

After that, I just let things be, held on to hope, kept on praying to Divina Pastora, and waited patiently.

Months passed, and just as my optimism was slowly ebbing away as the bills quickly piled up (add to that the new school season which had already begun), the call that I had been waiting for finally came. Of course, I was ecstatic, to say the least.

My prayer was answered. In fact, it was more than what I prayed for. The months of nervous anticipation, the tension-filled days of uncertainty, the work atmosphere that became more toxic each day, and the self-doubt that was beginning to creep in all faded away. I was able to heave a sigh of relief.

Curiously, a few moments after I received the offer, an image of Divina Pastora randomly appeared in my Facebook newsfeed. It was as if Divina Pastora was affirming that the things that we pray for come at the perfect time. With that, I uttered a prayer of thanks to Inang.

In the end, I believe that prayer transcends religion; it is universal. And as long as it is for something good, it is often answered. Manifest, and manifest hard. The Bible also clearly states this: ask, and ye shall receive (Matthew 7:7-8 and Luke 11:9-10).

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We just try to explain to the kids, especially to Rafa, that we need to save up; as such, we need to compromise. We’re glad that he understood our explanation. However, that doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t give it a try and request that we go to the mall. This Sunday, we gave in to Rafa’s request. We asked him if we could just go to Ayala Fairview Terraces since it was near our house and there were fewer people there. Anyway, he just wanted to go to a toy store and look for a robot (even if he didn’t have any particular toy in mind).

When we got to Fairview Terraces, we immediately went to Toys R Us. Unfortunately, Rafa couldn’t decide on which toy to buy. We asked him instead if he wanted a boxing toy, which Mommy would order from her officemate, and Rafa said yes. So that’s one task done for the day.

Playtime at Chops Children’s Park

Kuya Miguel, meanwhile, kept asking if he could play at Chops Children’s Park. We gave in to his request and booked a 30-minute session. It’s also been so long since they were in an indoor playground, so they made the most of their time. Anyway, since Chops Children’s Park is small, there were only a few activities that they could do, so 30 minutes was already enough for them.

Lunch at Conti’s Ayala Fairview Terraces

It was already lunchtime when Miguel and Rafa finished playing, so we asked Rafa where he wanted to eat. “I want mozzarella sticks!” Rafa said, so off we went to Conti’s. We immediately got a table even if was lunchtime. We ordered Mozzarella Sticks, Lumpiang Sariwa, Chicken Inasal, Daing na Bangus, Lasagna, Glazed Salmon Rice Bowl, and Chocolate Pistachio Crunch.

When the orders arrived, we immediately fed the kids. However, halfway through their food, I realized my Glazed Salmon Rice Bowl had not yet arrived. I made a follow-up with the server, but it seemed like they’d completely forgotten about it. When she came back, it was confirmed that the kitchen had overlooked it.

Since I was already full from the piece of lasagna that Mommy Khris gave me and the lumpiang sariwa, I decided to just cancel it instead. They said sorry for the oversight, but I think a better way to make up for it was to give something complimentary, like a cup of black coffee, maybe.

It’s just cheap and wouldn’t be much of an impact on their income for the day. Anyway, that’s just a suggestion from me. They’re not obliged to go out of their way since we cancelled the order, nonetheless. We didn’t pay for anything.

Right after our meal, we just went to the chapel for a quick visit and prayer. After that, we already went home since it was already starting to rain.

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I was in Grade 3 at that time, about 8 or 9 years old. Since I was studying in a Catholic school, part of our activities lined up for the year was to go to confession. It was usually done in the afternoon. I’m not sure if it was twice or thrice a year, but I recall that we were excited for it since that meant that class was only in the morning.

Before going to confession, we would always remind each other, “Tagalan mo a!” It was a whole class of 8- and 9-year-olds conniving to waste everyone’s time, including that of our good parish priest, so that we wouldn’t have class in the afternoon. Later on, they found out that I was the most compliant.

Anyway, before that, we would usually practice in class. We would start with the sign of the cross, then “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…” then enumerate your sins to the priest, then the act of contrition, then the absolution from sins, and finally the priest would tell you that you must now go.

Now, I’m someone who follows instructions down to the T. Each step is a cue for me to proceed to the next step. If I miss one step, I would be in a deadlock. That’s just what happened.

Anyway, the time for confession came, and everyone proceeded as usual. When it was my time, I went through the usual routine, but the priest did not say “you may now go” and I was waiting for that. So I stayed in the confessional expecting him to say that the next time he opened the grille.

However, what happened next was that we went through the whole thing again, still without him saying that I may already go. Again, I waited some more. That went on for three or four more cycles (the good priest didn’t seem to notice that it was me, seemingly imprisoned in that cycle). It came to a point that I was just inventing sins because I couldn’t think of anything anymore. But I kept stating “lying” in my list of sins because I knew that I was already fabricating my spiel.

I wasn’t panicking because I was holding on to a last thread of hope that the priest would say that I may already go. That wasn’t the scene outside, though, because half of the girls were already done, and there were about ¾ of the boys who still needed to confess their sins. Two of my classmates already peeked and asked me what was taking so long (I said, “Hindi pa ko pinapalabas e!”). My adviser finally came and whispered, “Halika na, okay na yan.” That was the only time that I went out of the confessional.

My classmates were teasing me afterwards, but we just laughed about it. I just said, “Hindi kasi ako pinapalabas ni, Father. Baka magalit pag hindi ako lumabas.“

Plus, I said that at least we didn’t have class in the afternoon anymore. We kept laughing at that experience. The funny thing is it happened again in our next confession. Kids being kids, we just laughed about it again.

One of my classmates didn’t forget that incident; we even talked about it after college. She even tagged me in a Friendster note (or Facebook?) about it, haha.

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We were a bit surprised and speechless, so I just asked him back, “Sino may sabi, anak?” To which Rafa replied, “Si XXX (girl classmate) po and si XXX (boy classmate). Pero sabi naman po ni XXX (another boy classmate), hindi naman daw po fake ang squishy toy ko.” At least he took consolation in his other boy classmate’s reassurance.

Naawa lang ako sa anak ko kasi for a few days, excited s’ya na dalhin yung NeeDoh toy n’ya. Sabi nya kasi naglalaro rin yung mga classmates nya kaya gusto din nya dalhin. He even assured us that he will share his toys with his classmates.

Ang sabi na lang namin sa kanya, “It’s okay, anak, basta sabihin mo okay lang kasi may toy ka and nagsha-share ka sa classmates mo.”

Now, the classmates Rafa was talking about were one girl and one boy. The boy is his friend, but also notoriously boisterous (not to put the blame on anyone, but he is the product of a broken family). Meanwhile, the girl comes from a seemingly well-off family, not that economic status gives anybody the right to be impolite.

The toy that was the subject of their “issue” was a squishy toy, popular among kids these days, and it’s called “NeeDoh.” Napa research tuloy ako bigla. It’s made by Schylling, and it comes in different colors, shapes, and designs.

Well, when I asked Mommy about it, imitation naman pala talaga yung toy. The original Schylling NeeDoh toy is quite pricey, and a bit hard to find here in the Philippines.

Nevertheless, this is not the main issue. Sabi nga namin ni Mommy, grabe yung ibang kids, at such a young age, may concept na sila ng fake, which is also fine, pero para gamitin yun para mag-asar ng ibang bata or pasamain yung loob ng ibang bata, hindi na yun acceptable for me.

Mommy and I just didn’t take it seriously because we were not there and kids can sometimes be sensitive when it comes to their toys (hence, yung “sama ng loob” ni Rafa).

Ang ending, tinuruan na lang namin si Rafa to answer back. Sabi namin na next time sabihin na fake yung toy nya, sagutin nya ng, “Okay lang naman yun, at least I have a toy, and I know how to share it.”

As for other parents, I think at a young age, dapat minumulat din natin ang mga anak natin na hindi manglait or mamintas ng ibang tao, whether in reference to their physical appearance, status in life, their belongings, and whatnot. Ang hirap kasi pag na-normalize yun habang bata pa sila, madadala nila yung ganung ugali sa paglaki nila.

In the end, let’s teach our kids to be responsible and kind.

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Sign of aging na yata talaga ‘to. Napansin ko kasi, habang patanda ako ng patanda, padalas rin nang padalas ang pagiging nostalgic ko. Hindi naman masama, kaya lang kung minsan kasi ang hirap o bigat din sa pakiramdam when you yearn for a place or time that no longer exists. Sometimes, when you begin to ask if there’s a way to go back, the answers become scary so I don’t venture too much.

In any case, ang ibig sabihin kaya nito, hindi lang ako ang ganito? Posible. Sigurado ako na pareho rin ang nararamdaman ng mga kapwa ko nagkaka-edad na. Sabi nila, normal lang naman ito. Agree naman ako dito dahil nga habang mas tumatanda tayo, mas marami tayong mga memories, experiences, at mga events na pinagdaanan o na-aaccumulate. Kumbaga mas malawak ang database kaya mas marami ring mga opportunities for playbacks.

I’m one of the older millennials (ipinanganak ako nung 1981) at lumaki at namulat ako sa mundo noong dekada ’90. Sabi ng mga tao, kaming mga millennials daw yung huling henerasyon na na-experience ang mundo noong analog pa ito. Kami rin daw ang nakakita sa mundo as it transitioned from analog to digital.

Totoo naman. Nung kabataan ko, puro TV lang kami. Well, sa mga introverts na katulad ko, sa harap ng TV namin madalas ubusin ang oras namin. Yung mga magulang ko naman, halos ipagtulakan na ako sa labas ng bahay.

Tuwang-tuwa pa pag may kabarkada akong susundo sa akin. Well, natutuwa rin naman ako pag may mga kaibigan ako na bigla na lang susulpot pag weekend at hahatakin akong mag-bike. Yup, biking ang hobby namin noon at kung saan-saan kami nakakarating. Usually, sa mga sulok-sulok ng town namin na hindi madalas daanan ng mga tricycle. Masayang magtakutan pag nasa liblib na lugar na. o kaya naman ay habulin ng aso

Throughout the 90s, ang routine lang namin sa probinsya ay school, bahay, TV, konting assignment, tulog. Repeat. Then yun, pag weekends naman insert biking sa mga liblib na sulok ng town namin. I guess kids who grew up in cities will find this routine boring, but we survived.

Masarap lang talaga itong balikan, yung mga ganitong ala-ala ng nakaraan. Napaka-simple kasi ng buhay ko noon. Napakaliit din ng town namin kaya ito lang ang mundo na alam namin ng mga kaibigan ko, until we all parted ways and went to Metro Manila for college.

Nung college naman, nauso ang cellphone. Analog cellphones or dumbphones pero feeling namin nun sikat na basta may hawak na cellphone. Naalala ko yung first phone ko nun: Alcatel OneTouch phone. Two-liner lang, walang text graphics pero tuwang-tuwa na ako dito. Yung isa kong kabarkada sa college, the following year pa nagka-cellphone.

Nung nabilhan na sya, half a day nya akong pina-prank ng missed calls. Nung hapon na ni-reveal na nya na sya yung missed call ng missed call sa akin at sinabing i-save ko raw number nya. Sabi ko naman i-dictate nya ulit kasi dinelete ko na. Ayun, inis na inis tuloy sakin kasi hindi ko sinakyan trip nya.

Syempre, pag nasa college ka, excited ka maka-graduate and mag-work. Kung alam ko lang na mas komplikado pala ang buhay after college, mas in-enjoy ko pa ang college life ko.

After college kasi, mas na-expose tayo sa katotohanan ng buhay:

• Pag nagpakita ka ng kabutihan, hindi ibig sabihin na automatically papakitaan ka rin ng kabutihan.

• Pag nagsipag ka at ginawa mo ang tama, hindi ibig sabihin ay atumatically magigiging successful ka sa trabaho

• Pag nagmahal ka, hindi ibig sabihin ay susuklian ka rin ng pagmamahal

• Pag naging totoo ka, hindi ibig sabihin ay mga tunay na kaibigan din ang lalapit sa iyo

Siguro kaya nga lagi tayong nostalgic dahil hinahanap-hanap natin yung mga pagkakataon o mga pangyayari sa buhay natin na hindi pa kumplikado ang mga bagay-bagay.

Bakit kaya ganun ang buhay? Alam ko naman na walang ideal, pero sana ‘no ipanalo tayo ng panahon at tadhana lalo pa’t genuinely honest at naging mabuti naman tayo sa mga intensyon natin.

Sana lang.

Yun pa kasi, ang daming mga tanong na hindi mabigyan-bigyan ng sagot. Habang tumatanda tayo, parami nang parami ang mga tanong na walang kasagutan.

Anyway, I’ll end it here at baka paikot-ikot na lang ako.

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Here are some examples:

Hatid-sundo sa school

It’s been two weeks since school started. Kay Kuya Miguel, si yaya yung naghahatid just because sya yung mas kilala na ng teachers and guards sa SNED class nya. Pag maluwag naman ang schedule, I go with them sa speech therapy class nya sa Novaliches Bayan.

However, for Rafa, since his schedule is more permissive, I get to bring him to school and fetch him. I think mas na-aapreciate ng kids natin ang presence natin during their early years at school.

For example, Rafa was so nervous before school started. He was anxious about his classmates and teacher, and it makes a big impact when we are with them at school. Anyway, when he found out that some of his classmates in Grade 1 were also his friends from kindergarten (and his adviser is the same), he quickly warmed up and was soon chatting with his seatmate.

I find myself fortunate to be given the opportunity to bring my kids to school and fetch them.

Mealtimes

Mealtimes are also sacred family moments; that’s why I make sure to be present when my kids are eating. For example, when working from home, I make sure to leave whatever I’m doing and join them in their meals. Sabay-sabay kaming kakain.

Tsaka usually mararamdaman mo talaga ang lambing ng mga bata when they are eating. Kung minsan, Rafa would randomly request, “Daddy, subuan mo ako.” It’s moments like this that I’m sure we’ll miss someday.

Bedtimes

I relish the thought of me (and their mom) interacting my kids before they fell asleep. A little prayer, a bit of bonding before they close their eyes, story time (kahit paulit-ulit), until they fall asleep. It’s also an opportunity for us to say our I Love You’s to them before they go off to slumberland. One good practice that I learned also from my dad group is to say to our kids that we are proud of them, so that’s what I will incorporate in our next bedtime bonding.

Bath time

I admit that on regular days, it’s very seldom that I get to give my kids a bath. However, whenever we are on a holiday in the province, I happily take on that task. As I’ve mentioned earlier, it’s good that Rafa’s class schedule is in the afternoon, so we have the whole morning to bond and prepare for it.

These are just the things that I can immediately think of. Of course, we have our usual weekend bonding like eating out and taking the kids to the mall. We cherish those moments because we know that when they grow up, they will have a world of their own in which we may not always be a part of.

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Back in the day, our timelines were chronological. This meant that we fairly had an idea of what was happening at the moment (or the time when something happened). We were not mindless zombies or helpless robots that were powerlessly fed by the algorithm. We were actually more in control of what we wanted to consume. Well, that was almost two decades (or so) ago.

Plus, we loved to blog at that time. Oddly, even without SEO, we discovered blogs a lot at that time. Somehow, reading a blog felt like conversing with another human being. They pour their thoughts into their blogs, and we respond to that via comments (or Twitter, if it were posted online). We blog hopped, and we thought that was fun. Even if it were online, it still felt like human interaction.

All of that changed in the last 10 years (or so) when the timeline was dictated by the algorithm. Data and information were shoved down our throats whether we like or not. I think people eventually got tired of all the noise, garbage, and clutter on social media (I see a lot of users on TikTok saying how they became tired of the toxicity on Facebook, etc.).

For that, I believe people are gradually gravitating towards blogs again. Not just blogs, though, but personal blogs because they feel more authentic and warm. In short, blogs feel more human. I think that’s also the reason why some people these days trust reviews they see on blogs instead of viral social media posts. Think of food vloggers who say everything they try is good, or portions that are not the same for regular customers versus vloggers, and many more.

As someone who never let go of blogging, this makes me happy. Thanks also to Substack, I have found a platform where my writing and thoughts can be appreciated beyond the algorithm and SEO.

I hope blogging will continue to thrive, and platforms like Substack will continue to nurture those who love writing. I hope more people (Filipinos and Gen Zs, most especially) become more appreciative of the art of writing. It’s really relaxing, taking one’s mind off the noise and stress of the outside world. It’s also a good outlet to vent out one’s emotions if no one else will listen to you.

For myself, blogging allowed me to fulfill my dream of being a writer. That alone endeared me to this craft. On the other hand, I look forward to the day when people will again be more appreciative of long-form written content.

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However, as someone who can be impatient with things that don’t interest me, I’m giving myself a pat on the back. You see, I’ve had this toy for about two years, but it has remained untouched in the cabinet until I had the interest to assemble it yesterday.

You might be asking why I had it anyway; well, it was actually Rafa who asked his mom to buy it online. He thought that he was buying a usual toy robot until it arrived. He was a little disappointed that it had to be assembled first. He asked me to help him, but the most that I did was build only one leg. I lost my patience altogether because the instruction sheet was in black and white; I couldn’t even match the parts in the picture with the actual components. Since I was also losing my temper at that time, I bribed Rafa and said that I would buy him a robot toy in the mall.

We forgot all about it until I saw Rafa take the box out of the cabinet. He was playing with one of the small metal rods when I asked him if he wanted me to help him assemble the robot. He readily said yes, and I went to work. It was still a challenging task, but thankfully, the picture printed on the box is in full color. I just used that as a reference for building the robot’s parts.

I had some mistakes in connecting some of the parts, but I was able to fix them immediately. After about two hours, the robot that I had ignored for two years. I showed it to Rafa, and he was happy with the result. As for myself, I quite enjoyed building the robot and realized why some people take it as a hobby. It was really a great way to pass the time. Best of all, I realized that I can be patient. I mean, hindi ko naman kasi interes nga yung ginagawa ko pero pag nag concentrate pala ako, magagawa ko naman. I can focus on seeing the task to completion.

In other news…

The social media landscape has been abuzz with the death of two Ateneo De Manila University players: Rene “Bobet” Baterbonia and Divine Adili. I didn’t have the patience to look at the news and posts because a lot of content creators were just riding on the buzz and milking the issue. If in the past it was the news outlets that tended to sensationalize the reports, it was the content creators this time who are dramatizing the social media posts. As such, I deliberately ignored the posts because I didn’t want anything to do with those people who capitalize on the grief of the affected family.

However, there was one post that caught my attention, and it was about Bobet’s mom, who supposedly “cursed” the Ateneo players and officials unless they tell the truth. What was even more alarming about the event was when the mom put the basketball jersey signed by Bobet’s teammates and coaches in the casket before burial. That led me to search social media posts about it and read about old beliefs or customs during burial. I guess I consumed too much info about it to the point that I got creeped out about the things I read about (which also meant that I was able to sleep well that night).

Also, because I got to know more about Bobet’s family and his background, I was saddened by what happened to him. Naawa rin ako sa pamilya nya, especially sa parents. Walang magulang na gustong mawalan ng anak, lalo na sa isang tragic na paraan. I hope that. In the end, they get the closure and justice that they are seeking.

Aside from Bobet’s death, there was also the shooting incident in Tacloban involving minors. Dumating na nga ang isa sa mga kinatatakutan ko. I always read news about school shootings in the USA, and I always prayed that it wouldn’t happen in the Philippines. I have two small kids in school; given the choice. I’d want to be with them at the same time to watch them. Unfortunately, that’s impossible, so I always whisper a prayer to protect them when they are out of our sight.

Furthermore, as parents, it’s our responsibility to raise our kids to be good and respectful individuals. Values begin at home, and how they are outside is a reflection of their life inside their house. Those minors who are involved in the shooting, their parents are also at fault. They should’ve done a better job in teaching their children to do the right thing.

In any case, with all the depressing news lately, I hope that we’ll get more positive news soon.

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