Anyway, I recently discovered 4 horror movies from the late 70s to the 80s that I somehow became fixated on in the last several months. First is the Phantasm movie series. I first saw clips of Phantasm Oblivion (I realized later that it was Phantasm IV) in 1998 while it was playing on the bus on the way to the province.

I became interested in the Tall Man, evidently a macabre character, in pursuit of a man. I couldn’t understand the story well because of the many distractions around. But the scenes I caught were morbid, which piqued my interest. I had no way to rewatch it because we didn’t have YouTube or movie streaming services at that time.

Fast forward to a few months ago, I saw clips about Phantasm on Facebook. I realized that it was a movie series. I searched on YouTube, and thankfully all films were available. I’ve already watched the first four Phantasm films and enjoyed every bit of them.

I like the combination of sci-fi, horror, and mystery. It was a creative series, despite most of it being a low-budget horror franchise. The Tall Man and the flying spheres were all memorable. I learned later on that the film series gained quite a following, with fans still talking about it to this day.

And just this August 2026, it was announced that one of the protagonists of the movie, Reggie Bannister (known as Reggie in the film series), sadly passed away.

I was finally able to see Phantasm IV (Oblivion) in full, after 28 years. I think it was a fitting ending to the dreamlike movie series. I saw the trailer for Phantasm V (Ravager), but I felt that it was completely out of place because of the special effects. On the other hand, I might just watch it out of curiosity.

Try to watch the series on YouTube if you have the time.

Now, let’s go local. Again, thanks to Facebook Reels, I discovered a recently restored Filipino horror classic called Sa Init ng Apoy, released in 1980. It stars real-life couple Rudy Fernandez (as Emil) and Lorna Tolentino (as Laura), both still young in the film.

It was set in Baguio City, where the newly married couple was on a honeymoon for Holy Week. Since all lodgings were fully booked, they decided to rent a room in an old house. It turned out the house hid a dark past, and an evil spirit still lives there. Somehow, the fateful events that led to that house were the culmination of Laura’s haunting dreams over the years.

Eventually, the dark entity possessed Laura, and after some struggle, she was later freed via exorcism. Baguio City in the early 80s looked stunning and inviting. I can sense the chilly breeze even from my cellphone.

As for the movie, it was a little slow burn, but the plot was good. There were points in the movie that felt forced and unnecessary just to give off an aura of mystery (e.g., an old lady who was insisting that Laura take a cryptic artifact without any explanation), although I enjoyed watching it. Again, it’s on YouTube for those who want to see it for free.

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We were really planning to go home to Nueva Ecija for the long weekend. However, my parents warned us not to proceed anymore because the main roads we would pass (particularly San Simon, Pampanga) were already flooded. I thought it was just ankle-deep flooding, but my parents told me the floodwaters were waist-deep. It was a good call that I listened to my parents, because the subsequent scenes on North Luzon Expressway (NLEX) and other major highways in the next few hours were horrific. The traffic on the whole NLEX and other surrounding thoroughfares was in gridlock.

Our yaya, who still pushed through to go home to the province for the long weekend, wasn’t able to go back to work immediately because there were no trips to Metro Manila. According to the bus company, they cancelled the trips because NLEX was closed. Imagine that: a major highway closed off because of heavy flooding for many hours. Think about the economic losses because of that.

But beyond that, I’m sure the frustration felt by many Filipinos during that time was beyond belief. They were angry, sad, nervous, frustrated, hungry, uncomfortable because of the lack of toilets and facilities, and were probably just questioning what on Earth was happening to the Philippines, and the taxes that we were paying. Many were just wishing for the chaos to be over, like a bad dream haunting them long before they’ve awakened.

How ironic; the country is in the midst of a flood control corruption issue, and yet here comes Mother Nature proving that those in power have done us wrong. Also, NLEX. They didn’t even have any contingency plan to aid those who are stuck in traffic for long hours. They should be made liable for that pandemonium at the expressway last week.

Hay, indeed, mas nakakatakot pa talaga ang mga buhay kesa sa multo.

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I was already an adult when social media became a thing, when Friendster was launched. So, imagine our excitement because of that new and modern way to connect. Then came Facebook, IG, and so on. Blogging also became mainstream, but I was no techie, so I was late in the game.

I found social media was a good way to share stories before I learned to tinker with a blog. It was fast; you could share photos and text without having to access a dashboard. But more importantly, people were generally sociable and genuine. Even strangers left wonderful comments on a story or photo shared on IG, for example.

When I finally learned how to blog, social media content creation became my means if I just wanted to satisfy my urge to write something. It was a good community until around 2016 or 2017.

Then influencers suddenly became a thing on social media. They were like celebrities (and somehow treated by netizens as such). Pasikatan. Paramihan ng followers. Nauso ang follow-for-follow, then suddenly they would unfollow you. I think that was when toxicity on social media started.

Somewhere along the way, comments and interaction became more and more offensive and foul. The younger generation was blaming the older ones (or those belonging to Gen X & Y). For me though, these older ones were the people who made social media a truly warm (and, again, sociable) community.

Although I wouldn’t discount the observation of the younger ones. I guess that’s because we older people have a somewhat uptight way of holding to our values, so we call out what we believe is not right.

On the other hand, the younger ones are more global and more exposed to different cultures, especially Western philosophy; that’s why they tend to challenge the norm or what we say “nakagisnan na natin.”

Not really a generalization but just an observation, the toxicity on social media comes mostly from a specific economic or even political segment, no matter the age group. The monetization model also doesn’t help, as content has become trashier, seemingly churned out by mindless clout chasers whose only goal is for their next post to go viral and make them big.

Content creators who are educational and who make sense are only a handful. Even so, you’d still find their comment sections riddled with senseless remarks from online zombies.

In any case, the negativity on social media led many to turn away from mainstream platforms and seek new ones. That includes me. It feels good to discover Substack, a safe place for sharing just about anything, from personal angst to the nonsensical stuff. And nobody would judge you for it (in fact, people will even celebrate you for it if they get to relate to you). I pray that Substack stays this way.

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***

I once had a dog named Doggie (pronounced “doji”). We adopted him in 1990 when he was just a puppy. He was stout and fluffy; that was why we easily fell in love with him. His coat was a mix of dark gray (almost black), some brown, and a few streaks of white on the chest. He looked like an Aspin version of a German Shepherd; that was I remember most about him.

He was also a playful fellow. As an only child, I love having pets because I’d have someone to play with if other kids weren’t available. He grew rapidly; however, our landlord eventually felt bothered by his presence. She complained that Doggie broke her plants, so we were left with no choice but to put him on a leash. My father built a doghouse for him, though.

Doggie naturally was sad to be confined in such a small space, but I played with him regularly after school. I would pat his head, stroke his fur, and we would run around his doghouse, where his leash allowed him to.

I also talked to Doggie. He was a smart dog, with round, observant eyes. I thought he listened each time I spoke. I promised him that when we moved to our own house, he could run freely and chase small butterflies. We just had to put up with our situation at that time because we were renting. I held on to that hope, and I felt Doggie did, too.

He was healthy and strong. We fed him well. He was round but not overweight. He wasn’t muscular, but that was because he lacked exercise. I thought he was also a handsome dog.

In 1991 though, I overslept because it was a Saturday. I vividly recall a dream in which an unscrupulous man suddenly appeared at our gate. He was holding a gun, and from my dream, I thought he wanted to steal something from our house. I ran away as he pointed the gun at me and hid behind Doggie’s doghouse.

The man fired two or three shots, which hit the doghouse. When I peeked inside, I saw Doggie lying lifeless on the floor. I cried in my dream, but I was suddenly woken up by the surge of emotions.

I thought, “Hay salamat, panaginip lang.”

As I finished that thought, our landlord’s son, Kuya Tito, appeared on our doorstep and said to my father, “Kuya Brando, patay na po si Doggie.”

My heart raced. I was shocked, both by the news and the sudden thought that my dream was indeed real.

I readily rushed out of my bed and went straight to the doghouse. Kuya Tito wasn’t joking. Indeed, Doggie was already gone. I felt my throat tighten with emotion and grief, but I held back the tears. My pet, my playmate, had already left us.

Up to this day, though, when I recall that vivid dream, I still can’t shake the feeling that something mysterious befell us on that day. Older folks say that dreams are the opposite of reality. However, at that moment, my dream was the exact reality.

In any case, looking back, there’s nothing more horrifying for a young boy than learning that your beloved pet is gone.

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So, what are those three pillows?

Well, he has a walrus stuffed toy, which we gave him for Christmas. Originally kasi, gustong-gusto nya yung similar toy ng older cousin nya. His cousin was always kind enough to lend him the toy whenever they were together. Just the same, seeing how he loves the toy, we decided to get him his own toy. Ito yung toy na pinakayakap nya talaga each night.

Then he also has a Mickey Mouse “pillow.” This one has a hole where you can insert an arm. With that, it’s a lot easier to hug. Sometimes my son would use this for resting his head. I guess it’s when he likes to keep his head elevated when he sleeps.

Then finally he has an Iron Man pillow. This one is a round pillow, which is best for snuggling. Sometimes my son would just bring this with him outside the room when he wants something squishy to hold on to.

How does he hold these three pillows at night?

He would usually have one arm securely positioned in the Mickey Mouse pillow. Then he would have the Iron Man pillow in another arm. Then finally, he would have his legs and arms wrapped around the walrus plushie.

Ganito rin ba ang mga anak n’yo? Maaaliw ka na lang talaga. Alam ko, kagaya ng ibang mga magulang, nakakaramdam din ng pag-aalala at kaunting pagod sa pag-aalaga ng mga anak nila.

That’s why we celebrate small wins, and also find joy in the simple things that we observe in our kids. Siguro for some, wala lang ito or mundane pero para sa mga kagaya kong special needs parent, we try to find joy in raising a child with autism.

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While we didn’t have a Halloween celebration at that time, the idea of having a fun trick-or-treat evening out with friends came from the cartoon shows I watched in the 90s. Think of Yogi Bear, The Ruff & Reddy Show, The Huckleberry Hound Show, The Flintstones, etc. I think I was just watching too many cartoons on TV at that time, but I thought dressing up in costumes, putting up Halloween decorations, and having lots of candies were extremely exciting.

Nevertheless, I was also happy with all the horror-themed shows and movies shown on TV. I looked forward to Magandang Gabi Bayan on ABS-CBN. I think I have been watching it since I was in Grade 2, and only stopped when the show folded in the mid-2000s.

I also loved the horror stories that I used to share with my classmates in elementary school. When the All-Saints’ Day school break was about to approach, classes would be laxer. We’d spend hours exchanging urban legends and terrifying stories from around our hometown, which were, of course, passed on to us by our lolos and lolas.

Traditionally, we would also visit our loved ones who have passed on in the cemetery. I wouldn’t let the moment pass without fueling my imagination and hearing more frightening stories from my aunts and cousins as we made balls out of melted candles.

Fast forward to today, I’m happy seeing my kids enjoying themselves as they go to Halloween parties. Honestly, I kind of enjoy these things myself even if I were already an adult. I love toys, candies, decors, costumes, and the whole Halloween vibe!

Also, since Halloween is just around the corner, I think I’ll begin sharing more Halloween-themed stories here.

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In the afternoon, I’d pick him up from school. He loves playing taya-taya with his friends right after class. The school grounds would usually be filled with children’s laughter as they chase each other. I just watched them enjoy themselves and be little rascals until they were all hot and sweaty. Then the other parents would arrive and fetch them one by one.

Probably the best part of my day was when we were heading home. He’d eagerly tell me how his day went; what they did in school with their teacher, how his friends were nice to him, which classmates were being rude to him, or sometimes the one who got the most scolding for the day from their teacher. Sometimes he’d look disappointed; at times he’d be laughing as he recalled amusing details of his day at school. I’d be all ears and all smiles as we approached our gate.

For a working dad like me, moments like those are precious. I was grateful for the one-month break in between jobs. Given the chance (and the money), though, I’d always choose being with my kids. As a home-based dad for a month, I had my hands full. From feeding them (or making sure they ate), preparing them for school, helping them do their homework, and then preparing them for bed at night.

I was helping Rafa with his assignment early today, and I recalled our pedicab conversations. Things will never be the same for all of us tomorrow, so enjoy and take advantage of the little moments that we have with our loved ones today.

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Now, I’m not particularly fond of poultry in general. I will sometimes eat select fast food fried chicken or chicken inasal, but I’ll always choose the breast part because the flavor is milder or none at all, except if seasoned well. Then again, chicken breast will just taste the same as the seasonings used to flavor it, or the sauce that it’s dipped in. As for chicken legs, it’s the strong flavor that puts my palate off.

Going back to the Peking duck, it looked palatable when finally sliced thinly. I often see it in shows eaten with sauce and vegetables in a wrap. It looks delicious served that way. Plus, I’ve also heard that the skin is super crispy. With all of those thoughts in my mind, my curiosity grew stronger. I murmured in my head, “Wow, hindi pekeng Peking Duck ito!” As if naman may fake na Peking Duck. Of course, I also know it was expensive, so I wouldn’t let the opportunity to try a top-tier dish pass.

Our Chinese colleague taught us how to eat it. Apparently, there were many of us in the team who hadn’t tried it yet. When it was my turn, I got a piece of skin and a slice of duck breast, put it in a wrap, spread hoisin sauce on the meat, and finally added slices of cucumber and scallions on top.

Once wrapped, I put it in my mouth. The flavors were delicious; I’d admit that. The sauce and vegetables went well with the duck. The skin was indeed ultra crispy. However, there was a slight gamey aftertaste, which I didn’t like. I’m sure it was just me since I wasn’t used to eating poultry.

I tried a piece of skin as is, and it was good, save for the slight aftertaste. Interestingly, the rest of the duck was cooked salt-and-pepper style, which was served later on. They said it was good with rice.

Anyway, that was my first time trying Peking Duck. It’s always an adventure to try something new, especially if it’s not something that you are used to doing (in my case, eating). Also, it’s not every day that one gets to try upscale food, although admittedly Peking Duck isn’t something I’ll crave later on.

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“Dapat bigger si Daddy kesa kay Mommy!” he would say. Then we’d reply, “Bigger naman talaga si Daddy kay Mommy a?” To which he’d hit back, “No, no…si Mommy ang bigger.”

Are you thinking about height? Or weight? Size, perhaps? No. Rafa was actually referring to our age. His mind couldn’t quite wrap around the idea that I’m younger than his Mommy. For him, since daddies make the final decisions in a family, they are supposed to be older than mommies.

This recent conversation with my little boy amused me, exactly because I was very much like him when I was his age. Back then, I also had the notion that dads were supposed to be the protectors of the family. That being said, they should be the oldest ones in a family.

In retrospect, I think I had that idea because I equated age with strength, wisdom, and other exceptional abilities. This meant they were the stronger ones who defended their loved ones from harm, and they generally held superpowers to shield their loved ones from the evils of the world.

My own father was older than my mother, so I thought that our family was “normal.”

However, I do recall one moment back in the early 90s when an old neighbor told me that in the newlywed couple living across our house, the husband was younger by a few years than his wife.

Upon hearing that, I couldn’t help but exclaim, “Ha, talaga po?” Again, since I thought that it was the men who were supposed to “lead” a home, they needed to be older than their wives.

As for Rafa, we just explained to him that it was okay for daddies to be older than mommies. They work hand in hand in nurturing a happy family, and they help each other in ensuring the safety of their children no matter their age.

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Anyway, our officemate died a sudden, unexpected death; that was why the news came as a shock to many of us who knew him. What made it even more startling was that he was a health-conscious guy; he lost a huge amount of weight about 8 years ago, he watched what he ate, jogged regularly, and loved the outdoors.

He climbed mountains, dove deep into open waters, and went on many random adventures with his family. He was a really good guy who loved life. Unfortunately, an aggressive type of cancer claimed his life at a young age. No one would ever have guessed that his time on earth was already numbered.

While we were talking about his travels, we couldn’t help but remark on how he was trying to do all the things he wanted to do in quick succession. It was as if he had a bucket list that he fancied ticking off in the shortest possible time.

In retrospect, it was like he knew he only had limited time left in pursuing his goals. Of course, that was just an expression. Nobody wants their life to be cut short, especially if you have loved ones who are counting on you.

However, this is also a timely reminder for us to do the things that make us happy because life is unpredictable. We don’t know if we will still be here tomorrow. But when it’s already our time to go, we can say that we’ve lived a fruitful life with no regrets. Or the people around us can say that we lived a purposeful life.

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Para bang lipad ng saranggola ni Pepe. Dahil malaya namang umalagwa, akala mo pataas na lang nang pataas ang paglipad. Ngunit kagaya rin ng saranggola ni Pepe, may mga darating na pagkakataon na susubok at hahadlang sa tuluyang paglipad nito nang malaya.

Sana simple na lang ang formula ng success, ‘no? Sabi kasi dati sa TV, tuwing makakapanood ako ng mga balita at interviews tungkol sa mga nagtagumpay sa negosyo. Ang karaniwang sabi dati, sipag at tiyaga lang ang sikreto nila.

Hindi naman pala ganun kadali at kasimple ‘yun.

Lumaki ako sa isang maliit na bayan sa isang hindi masyadong kilalang probinsya. Ito lang ang mundong alam ko. Dahil limitado lang ang mundong ginalawan ko, akala ko gano’n din ang buhay paglabas ko mula rito.

Mas malaki at mas malawak pala ang mundo sa labas. Ito na nga ang tunay na buhay.

Lumipat ako sa kabisera para mag-aral. Bitbit ko ang pag-asa at pangarap na binuo ko noong nasa high school pa ako.

Napakalaki ng unibersidad. Mapuno dito, kaya kahit papaano, naalala ko ang aking probinsyang kinalakhan. Ngunit hanggang doon na lang din pala ang pagkakapareho nila. Iba’t ibang karanasan ang pwede mong pagdaanan at iba’t iba rin ang mga taong maaari mong makasalamuha.

Ganito ang buhay. Walang pinipili, walang paborito. Hindi mabait sa pangkaraniwang tao. Hindi ka basta-bastang pagbibigyan kahit na mataas kang mangarap.

The experience will strip you down to your very core.

Ipaparamdam nito sa iyo kung gaano ka kaordinaryo. Marerealize mo, hindi ka naman pala gano’n kagaling, hindi ka rin naman pala kasing-talino ng iniisip mo.

Sa mata ng ibang mga tao, pantay-pantay lang din kayo. May kanya-kanyang struggles, may kanya-kanyang mga pasan sa buhay, pero pare-parehong umaasa na may magandang pagkakataon na naghihintay sa hinaharap.

Mabilis ang daloy ng buhay; hindi ka aantayin. Kailangan mong kumapit nang mabuti dahil kapag nakabitiw ka, hindi ka puwedeng mag-antay lang ng awa. Ikaw din ang tutulong sa sarili mo.

Ramdam na ramdam mo kung gaano ka kaordinaryo bilang isang tao. Pero ano nga ba ang gagawin mo kapag ipinamukha ito sa iyo ng mundo?

Paano ang gagawin mo kung ipinamukha sa iyo ng mundo na ordinaryo ka lang pala?

Pwede mo itong tanggapin. Yung mabubuhay ka sa paniniwalang may hangganan lang ang maaari mong marating. Yung sasabihin mo na lang sa sarili mo na, “Eh hanggang dito na lang talaga ako eh.”

Pwede ka rin naman lumaban. You can refuse to accept what the world dictates to you. You can choose to carve your own path where you can be extraordinary by your own standards, not by what the world says.

Survival na lang talaga. Kung noong college, makapasa na lang talaga. Tanggap ko naman iyon.

Hindi ko rin naman natupad ang pangarap ko. O kung tutuusin, pangarap ko ba talaga ‘yun? Baka sinabi ko lang na gusto kong gawin ‘yun dahil masyado pa akong bata noon. Idealistic: kung ano lang ang popular, ‘yun na rin ang gusto. Pero deep inside, baka hindi ko pa lang talaga alam ang gagawin ko.

Pinilit ko pa rin naman habulin, hindi dahil sa gusto ko talagang matupad, kundi dahil gusto kong magkaroon ng closure. Yung kaya kong masabi sa sarili ko that I gave it a shot, na I exerted all effort to get to that dream. Na kahit ipinaramdam sa akin ng mundo na ordinaryo lang ako, na I was on my own, I still went against the tide because I refused to give up.

Pero sa huli, hindi ko lang kinaya. Wala nang next step. ‘Di bale nang rejected, at least wala nang “what ifs?”

Sapat na sa akin ‘yun. Pwede na akong mag-move forward and pursue other things.

In a sense, life in general is like that experience during my college years. It taught me to be grounded. I may not be the greatest, pero okay ako doon dahil walang masyadong expectations sa akin.

At the same time, the experience also taught me that we can choose to be extraordinary in the realities we create for ourselves.

Sa huli, nasa ating mga kamay kung paano natin hahabulin ang buhay na gusto natin at magpapasaya sa atin, kahit gaano pa iparamdam sa atin ng mundo na ordinaryo lang tayo.

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Anyway, gusto ko lang ik’wento na ang isang buwan na bakasyon ako ay nais kong ilaan para sa mga anak ko.

Ibig ko rin kasi maranasan at gawin yung ginagawa ng ibang mga tatay (at nanay na rin) para sa mga anak nila. Yun bang pagiging involved sa araw-araw na routine ng mga anak nila. Ang nasa isip ko talaga ay turuan si Rafa magbasa, mas hasain pa ang sulat-kamay n’ya, ihatid at sunduin s’ya sa eskwelahan, at makipaglaro sa kanila ng kuya n’ya pagdating ng hapon.

Sa totoo lang, ibayong saya ang naramdaman nang mabigyan ako ng pagkakataon para maging mas involved ako sa daily routine ng mga anak ko, kahit sa kaunting panahon lang.

At aaminin ko, may inggit akong nadarama sa ibang mga tatay na mas may kakayahang maghatid at sumundo sa mga anak nila sa eskwelahan. Sa iba siguro ay maliit na bagay lamang ito, pero sa akin kasi ay hindi. Napakasarap kaya sa pakiramdam na nakikita ko sa bawat araw ang mga anak ko at nasusubaybayan ang kanilang paglaki.

Pero gano’n talaga, kailangan kong magtrabaho. Tanggap ko rin na ang isang buwang bakasyon ay mabilis na lilipas. Kailangan kong muling harapin ang katotohanan at muling sumabak sa laban ng buhay para mabigyan ko ng magandang kinabukasan ang mga anak ko.

Hindi rin naman unlimited ang last pay na natanggap ko. Sa totoo lang, sa taas ng gastusin ngayon, mabilis ding naubos ito. Tamang-tama lang hanggang sa maitawid ako nito sa panibago kong trabaho.

Masaya ako. Malaki ang pasasalamat ko sa Diyos dahil nabigyan ako ng pagkakataon na gawin ang mga napakaordinaryo pero makabuluhang mga bagay para sa pamilya ko.

Bilang isang ama, proud akong sabihin na nagawa ko naman ang mga bagay na pinlano kong gawin sa loob ng isang buwan. Nakagawa ako ng daily routine with Rafa, kasama rito ang study time sa umaga, preparation for school before lunch, hatid sa school, and then sundo ulit pagkatapos ng school.

May playtime din pala sila ng mga friends n’ya dahil nagtataya-tayaan sila after class. Mami-miss ko yung iaabot sa akin ni Rafa ang bag n’ya at biglang tatakbo, habang ang bestfriend n’ya na si Covi sasabihin sakin, ”Kuya, pakilagay mo po dyan yung bag ko” sabay tatakbo na rin.

Ako naman, tuwang-tuwang panoorin sila habang naghahabulan at nagtatawanan. Iba talaga ang mga bata, parang may magic sa mga tawa at saya nila. Kaya naman napapaisip tuloy ako: bakit kaya may ibang mga tao na naaatim na makitang nasasaktan at malungkot ang mga anak nila? Nakakabigat ng loob isipin.

Nakakatuwa rin ang mini bonding namin ni Rafa after ng playtime nila. Pupunta kami sa malapit na grocery store para bumili ng meryenda. Simple lang naman ang mga gusto n’ya; favorite cookies n’ya, chips paminsan-minsan, at mga drinks na gusto n’ya subukan (kaya nga nalaman ko na mas masarap pala talaga ang Chocolait kesa Chuckie haha).

Marahil ay magtataka ang mga kahera ng tindahan kung bakit bigla na lang isang araw ay hindi na bumibili ng meryenda ang mag-ama sa kanila.

Tapos sasakay kami ng pedicab. Si Rafa naman, sige lang ang daldal at k’wento tungkol sa kung ano ang nangyari sa araw n’ya sa school.

Natutuwa ako sa conversation naming ito dahil ang dami ko ring natututunan sa kanya; mga classmates n’yang nakakatuwaan n’ya at mga classmates n’ya rin na medyo hindi n’ya gusto.

Best of all, ramdam na ramdam ko ang saya at pagtitiwala n’ya sa maiksing b’yahe namin pauwi sa bahay namin. Ito ‘yung age when kids are so innocent, which I will surely miss someday.

At habang palapit ang pagbabalik-trabaho ko, nasabi ko na lang, “Ang iksi naman ng isang buwan na ito.” Gusto ko pa sanang makasama sa araw-araw ang mga anak ko, ituloy ang mga palagiang ginagawa namin, minsang kagalitan, pero madalas na lambingan, at tawanan.

Pangkaraniwang gawain man ito sa iba, pero lubos na pumupuno sa puso ng isang tatay na katulad ko.

May choice naman, pero hindi ideal. Sa hirap ng buhay sa bansa na ito, na ang binubuhay natin ay hindi lang ang pamilya natin, kailangan talagang kumayod. Lumalaban naman tayo, pero sa paraang kaya natin. Sama-sama, kahit maliit na boses, lumalakas.

Sana hindi lang isang buwan ang kaya nating ilaan para sa ating mga mahal sa buhay, yung wala tayong iniintindi na utang, gutom, o iba pang bayarin. Siguro mas marami tayong option kung mas maganda ang buhay dito sa Pinas, kung mas maraming magagandang suportang ibinibigay sa atin ang gobyerno natin.

Parang wishful thinking lang ito sa ngayon sa tinatakbo ng mga pangyayari sa ating bansa.

Sa huli, dasal ko lang ang magandang kinabukasan para sa aking pamilya.

***

I’m listening to this playlist from “Ang Bandang Shirley” as i write this:

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

Buy it here!

I’m sure many of you dreaded attending family events during holidays because you had to answer endless insensitive questions from prying, tactless, and “affluent” church-going titos and titas:

• If you have not yet introduced a partner to your family: Bakit wala ka pang boyfriend/girlfriend?

• When you finally introduce your significant other: Kelan ka ba mag-aasawa?

• When you finally get married: Kelan ba kayo mag-aanak?

• When you finally have kids: Kelan nyo ba susundan?

• When you finally have a second child: Bakit hindi nyo pa dagdagan? Or Gawa pa kayo ng lalake/babae

They seem to have assumed the responsibility of keeping track of your life’s milestones. And when you fail to tick any of those life events within their self-proclaimed timeframe, you’d be met by endless questions of “Bakit??” “Why??” or “Ano pa bang inaantay n’yo?!”

This is the ultimate test of patience; how not to answer back in an agitated tone lest you be further judged as “bastos” and “walang modo” for disrespecting your older relatives.

As a couple who’s had a hard time conceiving, the hardest question for us to answer, obviously, is “Kelan ba kayo mag-aanak?” simply because it’s beyond anyone’s control.

It’s easier for a lot of people to conceive, but let’s not discount the fact that 10% of Filipinos still have a hard time conceiving. This is an overwhelming 11.4 million Filipinos (translating to 5.7 million couples) who need fertility intervention, according to the Philippine Society for Reproductive Medicine.

This brings me to a different yet still related story.

More than a decade ago, my college friend also got married around the time my wife and I tied the knot. Since we were close, I asked her when they planned to have a baby. She answered that she didn’t want to have any children.

Naturally, I was a bit surprised when I got that reply because that wasn’t what was expected of married couples during our time. Nevertheless, I knew my friend perfectly well, and I was aware that her choices were mostly unconventional.

She wasn’t built to be a mom, and she was afraid she might end up neglecting her child’s needs (physically & emotionally) in case she had one in the future. She still wanted her dogs, but that was just about it.

Fast forward to about four years ago, I had two colleagues who got married. When I asked them about their plan to have kids, they both said no. They don’t feel they are emotionally capable of taking care of and raising human beings. I’ve also heard this same sentiment from some of my other younger officemates. They, too, said having kids is their least priority.

Unlike the conversation with my friend, I wasn’t as shocked by my colleagues’ replies. They were younger millennials, and they knew exactly what they wanted. Best of all, they refused to give in to what society dictated.

I also agreed with my colleagues because their decisions made perfect sense: since they knew they were not capable of raising kids, why bring them out into this world? They’re essentially sparing them from suffering due to lack of care and attention.

No child should suffer in this world; that’s why my opinion is that one should not bear children if they are not yet ready financially and emotionally. Or not reproduce at all if they don’t want kids in the first place.

Society should stop romanticizing the Pinoy mindset that children are “blessings” when some parents can’t even spare a few minutes (and a few pesos) to change their sagging and brimming diapers.

Can you still call it a blessing when some kids go to bed with growling stomachs or who may not even feel the warmth of a parent’s embrace since they are out on the streets begging for a few pesos to feed several hungry mouths?

Can you still consider it a blessing if you were unable to teach a child the ways of the world, so that they grew up being irresponsible individuals who are a nuisance to the people around them?

It’s our responsibility to provide our children’s basic needs and ensure that they grow up ready for the world. We should not burden other people with the responsibility of raising our own children.

But who will take care of me when I grow old?

Our children are not our investments or cash cows. I hope we can also break this Pinoy mentality. Let our children fly and live their lives. Let them explore the world, enjoy their money, and have the best journey in this world.

We shouldn’t put the burden on them to be our caregivers in the future. If they want to do it voluntarily to be with us during our twilight years, then let’s welcome it.

For parents, it’s our duty to save up for our own retirement and eventual departure from this world; be it setting up a support system (paid, of course) to care for us until the end of our days.

Don’t get me wrong. We all have the right to have an offspring. However, people should know that that right also comes with responsibility. Would-be parents should realize what’s in store for them once they decide to have kids. It’s not an easy feat, especially in this country where government support and access to basic services are severely lacking.

This is where the importance of family planning becomes more apparent. Correct family planning would allow us to provide our children with the basic needs. Unfortunately, for other couples, it’s just another requirement to tick off from their pre-wedding checklist.

I wanted to have a better grasp of the number of couples opting to go childless, so I did a quick internet search. I found an article published by GMA News (“DINKs are on the rise: 3 Filipino couples share reasons for choosing the child-free life”), which revealed that 59% of single Filipinos are considering a child-free lifestyle (with more women favoring a DINK lifestyle) based on a 2023 survey conducted by online dating app Bumble through Milieu Insights Pte Ltd.

The majority of the reasons given were that they “value the freedom to travel and pursue hobbies” without childcare constraints, and that they prioritize “career advancement and personal goals.”

Kudos to those people who refuse to be confined by Pinoy society’s peculiar standards regarding having kids. Indeed, if couples are not ready to have children, it’s the innocent ones who would suffer and carry trauma.

I really despise the selfishness of people who bring babies into this world, only to eventually neglect them and let them fend for themselves in the future. Meanwhile, other parents would shamelessly pass the responsibility of taking care of their children to their relatives (like grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc.).

Going back to the usual holiday conversations with our titos and titas, I think the better question from them should be “How ready are you for parenthood?” or “Kaya n’yo na ba talaga mag-anak?” because it calls forth accountability and responsible parenthood instead of “Kelan ba kayo mag-aanak?”

Similar stories:

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!

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.

Similar stories:

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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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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