TIME and LAUGHTER

In tonight’s mass, our Pastor, in his homily, asked the congregation what they think is the best Christmas gift people can give one another. A girl said shelter. Indeed, is a really very good gift this season, considering a lot of people lost their homes to foreclosure, not counting those who are already homeless in the first place. Another said love is the best gift, to which our Pastor agreed and expounded on.

They are right, I think so too. Love is the best gift people can give one another. It is the beginning of everything good, but best as it is, I’d rather give it as a gift for Christmas, and I, receive the gift of time as a present. I’d be very grateful if the good Lord, on His birthday would bestow me the gift of time, a healthy long time to spend with family and friends.

The gift of laughter is another best gift for me. I want it for myself, for my loved ones, and for all the people in this world. When was the last time you laughed so hard it made you cry? It feels so good. I want more of those.

Okay, it’s your turn…

‘love my hair! (hope u love yours too!!!)

I should be blogging about “Christmas” my most favorite occasion of all and how amazingly excited and calm I am, just listening to Christmas songs on the radio, but I can’t pretend to write happy when deep inside I am sad.

Last weekend, I attended a memorial service for my friend’s husband who lost his battle with leukemia. Today, Elizabeth Edwards succumbed to cancer. Although I have very limited emotional attachment to my friend’s husband and none at all to Elizabeth, I am saddened by their passing and at the same time, scared for myself. Being cancer-free for two years doesn’t give me any guarantee that the dreadful disease won’t come back. In effect, I am more paranoid than sad, when I hear people dying of cancer. But like every other person in this world, with or without cancer, our lives must go on, and we must not stop existing until called to rest.

Mrs. Edwards spoke of her struggles fighting the disease, including the depressing feelings she had when she lost her hair. Two years ago, I was a lonely bald woman receiving treatments too. It was December when I pretended to be well and went shopping like other people do. It was windy and the cold moist air messed up my wig, strands stacked in chunks, and impossible to fix. Without a brush, which I forgot at home, I told my husband to follow me to the door of the women’s restroom, and with onlookers, we separated the strands slowly, very careful not to pull-off the wig from my head. It was embarrassing. In the store, I can’t try-on the clothes I selected; scared of scrambling my wig again, I ended up leaving the clothes behind. It was doubly depressing to watch the other women shoppers who can fit as many clothes they want and enjoy the wind outside. I don’t regret they are well and I’m not, I envy they have hair and I don’t.

Hair? It’s just cosmetics. But when you are already sick and don’t look good at the same time, it’s major. This is just one of the many challenges of cancer patients. Something well people wouldn’t understand.

My hair is back, it is long, thick and wavy as it was before and I appreciate it more than ever. It’s bizarre; I am so thankful to God and so happy just having hair.