Bottled ※ Brain

Just before we passed through the Silway 8 bridge, Sean woke me up. I was sleep in the backseat, and he was driving. Hannah, his girlfriend, was beside him in front. We promised Alyza (Klai, as we call her), Auntie Nanic's second daughter, that we'd treat her to new shoes and dresses after she completed her summer job of scanning old photos from the baúl . “Manong, look!”  We saw the man and his wife (presumably), trailing behind us. The wife hid her head under the otherworldly appendages flowing out of the man’s helmet. The couple rode without a care in the world. They were safe; they had helmets. And they were enjoying themselves. Naturally, I remembered this line from Matthew B. Crawford's book, "Why We Drive": Life often feels overspecified, fully modeled and determinate, but the road has a dicey quality to it. We usually have a destination in mind, but when we get behind the wheel we expose ourselves to unexpected hazards, as well as unlooked-fo

This bird's nest, outlived by its occupants, fell from the kamuning tree.  The birds visit in the morning. They sing and dance, with not a care in the world. They hide in the canopy during rains.  Birds remind me of these comforting words of Jesus: Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? (Matthew 6:26) This has been a tough week so far, but God's word sustains me.  

Letter CXXXIII—To Monsieur de Falais. Directions for his conduct towards the Emperor Charles V . Geneva, 31st May 1545. An excerpt: It matters little what we have to endure in this world, considering the shortness of our life. And if length of days should be granted us, it is well that the Son of God be glorified by our sufferings, and we be participators in his glory. Since, for the love of him, you have begun to die to the world, it will be necessary to learn henceforth what it is to be buried. For death is nothing without burial. This is the consolation which it becomes you to take, that you make not deceive yourself, but prepare to endure even unto the end. And yet the cross you bear is very easy compared with that our of Master. When it shall please him to impose a heavier burden on you, he will give you, at the same time, shoulders to bear it. John Calvin's letters are a breath of fresh air, balm for the weary soul, and encouragement to the heavy heart. 

Two years after Tatay's passing, we still receive fruits from the trees he had planted years ago in the farm. This is guyabano ( Annona muricate ), or soursop. When we were kids, Tatay would bring home  pasalubong — kakanin , fruit, snacks—each time he went out of the house. The fruit harvests remind us of him.