one of those things that reminds us of how short life can be...

In my last post, I told you the story of all the people my grandfather helped in his lifetime. One of those people was my Uncle B. My grandfather helped him and his family through some hardships; allowed them to build a home on his land. Over time, he was more than just my grandfather's drinking buddy... he was family. In my grandfather's final days, Uncle B was there with him within an arms reach ready to help in every way imaginable.

As I grew up, I had the privilege to get to know Uncle B and his family. I played with his children, all of whom were older than me. They welcomed me into their home, share meals with them. To me, they were family. During the summers when all my other cousins were away, I would go over to their home in the middle of the day to sit and talk. He even taught me a little carpentry. I also joined in on some farming. I remember the time when I helped them harvest sugar canes then enjoying fresh sugar cane juice, digging the ground for peanuts, climbing the tall Kamansi (Breadfruit) trees to pluck the delicious fruit. Granted most may see it as the 'simple life' but through that I grew to appreciate and respect the land... the worth of a hard day's work.

I write this post in the memory of my Uncle B. Sadly, he passed away yesterday. I at least had the pleasure to see him again on my last trip home. There is no way to put to words how grateful I am to him, his family. He has been a great influence in my life. My prayers go out to him and his family. May he rest in God's endless love.

The Book of Alberto... 2

Silence is golden.

More words of wisdom from my dear uncle and embraced also by my grandfather. Though their silence pertains primarily on their extramarital relationships. As great respect I have for my grandfather and my uncle/s... I think they are wrong in this regard. I do understand that it was a different time, a different mentality, a different culture. When they preach about taking responsibility, isn't honesty being a part of it? ... 

I must admit the rule is simply but does go a long way. Recently, I have made many revelations in my life and most especially in myself... if you have read the past posts I am sure you can see the contributing factors one of which has been the written works of Paulo Coehlo (and my Fatima especially... after all she was also the one who introduced me to this author). 

More wisdom from Paulo Coehlo from Eleven Minutes...

'Although we didn't take our clothes off and I didn't come inside you, or even touch you, we've made love.' ....

'I've learned that waiting is the most difficult bit, and I wanted to get used to the feeling, knowing that you're with me, even when you're not by my side.' 

... I think its ignorant to say that people never change. In the past decade, I created an impervious shell around myself simply to protect ME. But now that all that has come down and laid my shit out... I feel that I bettered myself... a better Man.

A forgotten memory...

While on my trip one of my father-uncles shared a little something to me. When I was in the fourth grade, I had a school project which involved laying out my family tree. Apparently when I submitted my project, it shocked my teacher. Under the block/circle or whatever that designated my dad, I wrote my father-uncle's name. When I was asked why I wrote my father-uncle's name, I answered that my biological father (who I haven't met yet at that time) never comes home...

                      ***Sidenote: This particular father-uncle is a seaman... He goes abroad on a                                                                                                           boat/carrier for 6 months at a time and comes home for 3 months and the cycle continues. My brilliant mother tells me that my dad (my biological father) also goes abroad but he has never returned to see me. The kicker was every birthday and Christmas, my mother would always give me a gift saying its from my dad.... what a total mind-fuck, right?***          

My Mango Tree

My teacher and my father-uncle are childhood friends. My teacher then reports to him what had happened. They were shocked... and so did I when I heard this again. I can't believe that I forgot this story. I remember while I was growing up, I used to tell my friends that my dad drowned on soup. At one point, I placed a picture of the actor, Dean Cain, into my wallet and claimed that he was my dad. It worked for a while until my best friend called me out on it.My drama piles on early in my life.

The tree on the right is apparently a mango seed that I planted when I was 9 years old. It has supposedly grown pretty well... but a got chopped down by my uncle's brother-in-law. Thankfully, it didn't die and it is reaching out with its tiny branches to live!!!

From the book of Alberto... 1

7/8/2012 On that evening, I heard a lot of stories including some profound lessons in life from my uncle (according to him, he learned these from my grandfather... Alberto). In life, we are to take every obstacle as a challenge, to take responsibility for every action and in building relationships, it is no easy task but treat people as how they ought to be treated. Granted, my uncle was shitfaced when he was preaching his message but they truly were words of wisdom...Despite the circumstances take pride and responsibility in your actions and your family.

Probably one of the most hilarious stories I have heard came from my drunk uncle. One of the few joys of life, he was recounting a little treat in what used to be a floating casino called The Philippine Dream. According to my uncle, one of the greatest attractions was a shot called the 'Tequila Sunrise.' His description of the scenario was interesting enough but his delivery was epic. Apparently in service this drink, a topless waitress comes along with a tray with tequila, salt, and lemon. The waitress then places the lemon  between her lips and allows the guest to place salt around her bare nipples.... well if you know how to drink tequila, then you know how it goes.

The one thing I can say about the men in my family is that they are few and far between... in the dozens of cousins that I have, there are only a handful of men. A very resounding trait among the men in my family is that they are lovers of women... to some more than one woman. From my grandfather to my uncles and to my cousins and prior to this trip, myself (Fatima changed my outlook in this regard, more on that later)... we have a great appreciation for women, multiple women. According to a certain uncle, for every man is three women and it is the men's social responsibility to love women... and trust me, he was a true follower of this belief but of course the most 'responsible' man in the family was my grandfather. He LOVED women... enough said.

Estranged...

For more than have my life, my dad has not been in my life. The first twelve years... well that was my mother's choice not to have him involved. The past six on the other hand well... apparently just shit luck.

A few days ago, I finally reconnected with my dad again. The last time I heard from him was six years prior during my last visit home. It was a pleasure to see him again especially since he looked better (and in better health.. my dad is a hardheaded diabetic) now than the last time I saw him. I can still remember him staring at his cellphone simply a few inches away because his poor eyesight, a complication of uncontrolled diabetes. He is still stubborn as ever though -- I got that trait from both ends. Apparently, things went bad to worse for him (health-wise) in 2010 with his health crashing and year prior, he lost his cellphone which explains his absence. 

I am just happy that he is doing alright - could certainly be better. I was bitter, frustrated and angry at his disappearance. I guess we'll just have to wait and see if he decides to stay in my life. 

So that date I had from Match.com turned out well, though not in the direction that I would have liked. I made a new friend! She is just like one of the guys. She's certainly a breathe of fresh air... for me at least. We almost have all the same interests! Funny fact... she could probably kick my ass if she wanted to. So there's an interesting twist.

So a few weeks ago, my twin cousins came to visit from the Philippines... all I can say is WOW! They have grown so much. I still remember putting on those baby carriers front and back so they would both be hanging on me or when I used to push them around on their two- seater stroller. Now they are just as tall as I am. Time sure flies.

I have to be honest when I was growing up, I was jealous of my twin cousins. One, they got EVERYBODY's attention including my own mother. Well, at least that was how it felt like to me. Secondly, they were never alone... at worst they would have each other. Its irrational I know but at that time, I could not help it.

I have issues... I know.

I was never really alone...

Thank you to Chris for this photo.

When I started this post, I was not alone. (Aside from my birthday hook up) Laying by my feet as I wrote was Sunny, my cousin's golden retriever. He was the closest one I have ever had as a pet. He kept my feet warm and the floor wet with slobber. Late last night, we had to say goodbye to our dear Sunny.

So this post I dedicate to you. I remember the many walks we took so that you had to do your business and your recent connect the dots escapade. I miss the times when you would jump out of nowhere and hump my leg like there was no tomorrow. I still cringe at the thought of the camping trips we had when you sat with me... my balls still shrivel when I think of the many many times you stepped on them in your anxiety. I remember in the middle of the night in Galena when I stepped into a whole puddle of your pee because you were home sick. And of course, who can forget your daring leap into the lake that caused everybody to panic.

Its a shame you could not be my wingman for the summer. I am sure we could have gotten plenty of bitches for me and you too, I guess. I thank you for keeping me company this past December, my birthday, our nice little 3am strolls. I am sorry if I traumatized you when you walked in on me nailin some randoms...hey, I tried to keep you out with those boxes but you were just so darn persistent. I hope the treats we gave you were enough of a payback. You will always be our Sunny..go score with some bitches in doggy heaven.

What a fucking joke...

My 16-17 year old cousin showing off her 26 year old baby daddy at a family dinner! And my aunt and uncle ... Well. I have no fucking idea where to start.

Well first of all, cousin you claim that you are an adult but this is just fucking stupid. If you are looking for a cry for attention...you've definitely found one.This 26 year old idiot who would impregnate a 16 year old...why the fuck would you date a minor? How stupid can you get? Maybe you're retarded...you do look like you have some Downs.

Sorry I do not associate myself to statutory rapists. DIAF!

... to continue

Everybody tells us not to dwell in the past but I think it would be a betrayal of ourselves and identity to do so. So I embrace it dearly, especially the people who made those moments priceless. Growing up was certainly an experience. I was born into a single parent family...by choice mind you (this i will touch up more on later). I was the only child but luckily I was surrounded by aunts, uncles and plenty of cousins.
In the first fifteen years of my life, I lived with my grandparents along with my mom. My grandparents were amazing. My grandmother is quite a character... she was always a 'host', catering to anyone who walked through the doors. From what my mom tells me, she was not very affectionate. I, on the other hand had a totally different experience. She definitely had plenty of hugs and kisses except on the days when I would not listen.. then she'd chase after me with a tree branch and whip me back into place. She's very creative as well. When whipping and spanking me stopped working, I had to kneel in front of the Santo Niño statue, arms extended to the sides with Bibles in hand. Depending on the severity of my infraction, I would find salt under my knees. Creative, right? Oh and she was ultra religious just like my mother. My grandmother had six children with my mom being the fourth. She raised chickens in our backyard and pigs in a little pen she had by my uncle's house. She's certainly quite a character.
Now for my grandfather. If he was around, you would know be it from his loud booming voice or HBO on the television. He was a very personable man, surrounding himself with people who he has helped without question or bounds.  He certainly enjoyed his alcohol which only amplified his voice for his speeches and stories. My grandfather, from my experience was very loving, so loving in fact that he had at least one other extramarital relationship birthing several children. He had many flaws but they were easily overshadowed by his goodness. He was stubborn, opinionated and he knew what he wanted. He was my grandfather and I miss him everyday.
As I grew up, I surrounded myself with all my family connecting to various aunts and uncles but more so with a particular aunt and uncle. They had three daughters, so I kind of fit in as the adopted son. I grew up with them and my aunt and uncle treated my like their own. I think it got to a point where my mom got jealous that she would not allow me to spend the night with them. Where was my mom in all this? Well she was very busy working and spending time with friends. I can certainly understand why she was not there all the time... but during the times when we were together, she made me feel more of a burden than anything else. As I grew up, learned to manage. Everyone who has met my mom thinks she is a wonderful person. Well, she is an amazing person but as a mother... I think her choice to have me was a little misguided, selfish and I think I will save that for another night.