#4: The Absorbent Entry

I am alone in this… at least except for my Dad whom I am not sure (and he is not sure either I think) remembers seeing the same sight. 

We had pigeons for pets for around three years or so. I was still in elementary then so I still had a lot of time to spare just playing with an assortment of left-over toy pieces, knitting childish stories. When we had pigeons, it became a option to just stare at them, eavesdrop on their unintelligible conversations and even watch them get kinky, err, I mean, procreate.

But there is this one x-file-ish thing I repeatedly witnessed. Whenever a fly landed on our pigeon's smooth, feathered back, or neck, the fly just… gets absorbed. Literally. Or at least that is how it looked. The fly, after a few seconds, seemed to get sucked into the forest of micro-feathers and POOF! it's gone. I'm dead sure the fly didn't fly. If there was one fly annoyingly buzzing around, then perched on our pigeon, then flew again, the conclusion should be, the fly would still be annoyingly buzzing around me. But after it touches down on the pigeon, it disappears! No more fly flying around me, it should have disappeared. I mean where else will it go?

My theory is, the pigeon probably knows there is a fly on its back and with precision control of its skin, the pigeon will pull down and trap the fly under its feathers so it can snack on the insect later. I thought so because after a while, I'd  see the bird nibbling on its back. That is as scientific as I can get.

I didn't see that just once. I saw that over and over again, and my 9-year-old eyes always widened in wonder. I am already 24 and still haven't found an actual answer or even just someone who is as freaked out as me. I asked veterinarians and fellow pigeon owners but to no avail. These vets probably only know the hundreds of species there are, the different illnesses they can get, the numerous bones and ligaments in their body, but they will not know why a fly gets absorbed into a pigeons body.

Poor me.

October 12, 2005

Absorb me

I cannot smell you enough

I cannot feel you enough

Absorb me

I cannot hold you tight enough

I cannot hold you close enough

Absorb me

So I can run in your blood

So I can smile as your sweat

Absorb me

Let me grow with your hair

Let me flow with your tears

Absorb me
To find my cradle in your mind

And find yours also in mine

101205 11:50am

#3: To My Nameless Kitten

I once had this dog Bogsie. When all human possibilities failed, I'll call him. He will sit in front of me and look at me with those silent, understanding eyes while I exhaust all my pains, tears, snot and all, without any candy-coat or caution. He will just stay there, look at me and listen. Not one bit did he make me feel stupid about anything I tried to tell him. He's gone now but I dedicated a small monument for him on top of my computer table.

This is what happens to a loner who cannot remember a time in her life when there was not any pet crawling around the house. Not until she got married.

I don't have any pets now. My husband convinced me that we cannot keep any pet inside the house. That is just sensible since our apartment only has a floor area of 65 square meters and a total lot of around 80sqm. That is why I figured I will keep cats outside the house.

So that should explain my act of bribery. It started this night when it wasn't possible for me to talk to anyone in one my most desperate loneliness. So in an attempt to earn a companion, I stooped before our open gate and bribed some scraggly stray cats with bread. There are three of them: a married couple composed of a black female and a white male with striped ears; and an orange, scabby-faced one. I'm grateful they are gracious enough to stay and listen to me. I knew these cats only stayed there for the food. If I attempt to touch them, they'd scurry away. And when they were waiting for my daily blessings, they were careful to stay outside our gate, even if I left it open. Challenged to earn their respect, I decided to feed them for 3 or 4 more days. Then came a kitten which so much looks like this dear cat I had in my former home, Kawkaw. He was the smallest but he was also the feistiest. He'll instantly scowl at me the moment I try to get near. I even got badly scratched by this kitten because I wouldn't let go of the food he was eating from my hand. Ungrateful furball.

After 2 weeks of feeding them outside our gate, the stray cats were still scared of me. But something delightful happened. In just a few days after we met, I discovered him dozing off under the shadow of our papaya tree, inside our yard, even if all the others would instead stay outside. I opened the door, he just looked. I stepped outside, he just looked. One step nearer,he got bored and went back napping. I sat beside him and rubbed his little head. He was a bit reluctant but he let me touch him anyhow. This small thing finally honored my efforts and knew better to trust a pet-hungry fellow. I stayed with him and he understood.

Why did I even bother to write this? Because that same day, after Junn and I got home from the grocery, we discovered the kitten died. He was lying there, his small body partly squashed by some stupid, careless driver. But apart from that, he was still my cat. I never cried for any pet the way I cried for him that night. I was only able to stop crying when I finally gave myself a closure. Thirty minutes later, I went out to that spot where he lay and gave him a last pat on the head.

This is in memory of that unnamed cat and our sweet, short-lived friendship.

October 7, 2005

#2: Miracles and Laundry

For the past many weeks, Mondays (eventually Tuesdays) had become a battle for me. That's our laundry day. Whenever I commence my weekly ritual of preparing the tubs and the washing machine, I also start my prayer lobbying. During the summer, it was easier. It was always "Hay thank You Lord for blessing our sampay!" But lately, even as I am still in my first soaping (I soap twice and rinse thrice), the drizzles start coming. So do my prayers, especially if you have nowhere else to hang your clothes except the sala.

During a recent Bible study, we were given a test to know what your spiritual gifts are. To my delight, my top three are music, then faith, then intercession. You bet the last two worked full gear on Monday mornings. In the first two weeks that it happened, I was still hopeful saying "Naah, next week it'll get better." My optimism started its internal brainwashing activity. Nakahalata na ako nung linggo-linggo na lang, umuulan. My prayerlife got tested. I wooed and cooed and purred to the Father so He will command the rain not to fall, at least until 6pm. I claimed all the promises I know to support my pleading, you know, "Ask and you shall receive." and the works. But it rained. We tried to observe and discovered that it rained less on Tuesdays so we changed our laundryday to Tuesday. At the same time I prayed.

But no. It still rained.

This is how it attacks. After hanging all the clothes, I go upstairs to stretch my tired body, relishing the warm sun smiling on my laundry. Then it happens. I close my eyes, deciding to take a nap, only to be awakened by my panicking husband 10 minutes after, telling me that it's raining. I don't know if the Lord is playing a joke on me but it stopped raining Mondays and started pouring Tuesdays.
Whatever happened to my smiling sun? What?! There was even a time when I almost raised my hands to heaven and shout, 'Lord, please stop the rain!' Aba'y 'di ko alam kung magtatampo ako o magpapray ulit ako o kung kailangan kong magkatay ng baka na sacrificial offering. Is there something wrong with my faith? Time and time again since June, I try to command sunshine through prayers but end up having our sala become our hanging area.

After 3 months of this seeming betrayal, ang duguan kong puso ay umiiyak kay Lord. Bakit ayaw mo akong pagbigyan? Ulan lang, patitigilin lang, ayaw mo pa, *SNIFF!* Di naman ako humihingi ng parting ng Red Sea e. Di naman ako humihingi na maulanan ng manna. Gusto ko lang na matuyo ang sampay sa ilalim ni haring araw. Huhuhuuu...

Then comes another laundryday, the last week of August. I readied my heart again for another fight with the weather. I punched with my prayers and hoped that my coaxing this time will work. Know what?

It still rained.

As I was weakly gathering our half-dried clothes from the line, my beat-up heart said "Ok, I give up. Heck, who am I anyway? Why should the natural law of things be bent for me? This is Your universe anyway, therefore, do what You think is fit. Your will be done, not mine." I am humbled. No more contest with the Lord. I arranged our clothes in our sala.

The next week, I started my rituals without preparing for any battle. I just surrender to what He wants to do with the day. I soaped, I rinsed, I hanged. I didn't put up any fight. But I was happy - happy to rest from battle and continued defeat. And happier indeed I got. NO RAIN FELL! What the?!?

Ganun pala yun. He was just waiting for me to surrender. No matter how full of faith or faith-full you are, it should always be preceded by a healthy knowledge that He is God and is sovereign. His sovereignty goes before our faith.

I'm ok now. I'm at peace with His rain whether I have clothes on the line or not.


September 14 2005