Monday, July 26, 2010

The Wishes

It's funny how many memories one can have tucked away in sheets of paper and snapshots tucked away in long-forgotten boxes and luggage...(I'm currently making my medical textbooks "more accessible" by placing them in the new bookshelf my father designed for me. It is a hulking behemoth, no doubt. Yet, I don't think it'll  be enough for all my books. I have a lot. 3/4 of which I got from medical school.)

 I found some pictures, journal drafts (and other journals from med school) and a bunch of letters... it was quite enjoyable sifting through my "junk" as Pops would call it... treasures galore.
Speaking of Medical school, here's a snapshot of me and my friends, one afternoon in August  (it was my birthday, and we had a bit of an "eating party" <--that's what we actually called it.)  This was my second year in medical school, and our first year in that beloved apartment on  D.B. Ledesma St.). I think I just turned 24 in this one.  This was in better times, when we were  still relatively "less-stressed". (I miss them.)

Clockwise from Left: Chappie, Audrey (Aui), Pettie (Chules), Marizel (Epal!), Myself, Aileen, Karen (Tita K) and Leida. August 13, 2005.

And this one's a polaroid of when we were kids...I think I was 5 then. This was the afternoon the playhouse made of Nipa for the roof and woven bamboo walls was delivered to the house 
(my father designed one, and had a carpenter make it)...or was it when my Aussie and Canadian cousins were in town for a visit? :-) Anyway, this held a lot of memories, this playhouse, we even slept on it during some lazy afternoons in the summer.  I think it got damaged during one of the major typhoons of my childhood (although Dumaguete rarely has any).

My cousins, brother and myself, with the Playhouse. 1987.

Oh, and I found another picture of my grandfather, pulling a goofy face. This was during one birthday get-together...where the trend was to wear red so that we could look good in pictures (and besides, red is for good fortune, right?). My lolo loved to laugh and tease...and this just shows it. :-p

Lola and Lolo, Lolo's birthday. February 2006(?)

And then there was a nice my planner during freshman year of med school, I found a letter from a guy friend who used to write me letters. He had clean, pretty handwriting, a little small, but very legible. It was a simple, and straightforward friendly letter, wishing me well. 

When I received it years ago, I felt that it was just an exchange between two people who were meant to be just friends. Maybe I was immature then, and maybe I did not like to think that in exchanging letters people were obliged to fall in love, that it could not be love, but just a transient feeling of tenderness, because of the seeming exchange of gentleness on paper.

Perhaps...there was something wrong with me, but he did summarize it for me, when he said, "We can't choose who we love." He was always just going to be a friend, and if I wasn't going to fall in love with him, then it wasn't his fault. He was a capital guy, and still is.

Anyway, that's being too dramatic point in starting all this was that we find things that remind us of moments we have had in the past that helped make us who were were now. :-) So, here were some lines from his letter which I liked, which I would like to share here. (I didn't ask for permission, because, as another friend of mine said (and I'm paraphrasing), Letters, once given, become the property of the recipient. 

Or something to that effect. :-)

" For my parting words, I leave you these...I wish you happiness that you could only read from books. Happiness that would make you all giddy and fuzzy inside. Too happy that you'd hate yourself (in a good way of course)... I wish for you to finish your studies and be the doctor you want to be. 
 I wish that you'd wake up everyday with a smile on your face, know that you are in your path and you are doing your purpose. I wish that people around you would see how special you are, how great you are... I wish you wisdom and strength, patience to go through life.
 Finally, I wish you love...Someone to sweep you off your feet. Someone to take care of you. Someone deserving, kind-hearted, a good soul. Someone relentless, tenacious, in good cardiovascular condition (don't smile).
 In short, somebody who'd be your Prince Charming in Nikes..."

Ok, so maybe the last line was just for comic relief. :-) It was a joke, me liking guys who had nice shoes. It was just a quirk, by the way, for a while, I had a thing for guys and their footwear.

There was a period in my life, when I was so into writing letters (and getting them). I wrote not just to talk about things, but to know about things. My best friend, who was studying Korea at the time, as well as Mother Gay, one of my closest friends were my regular correspondents.

 There was just something comforting and soothing about scratching lines out on paper about it, I suppose. I like white paper and my Parker fountain pen for writing, for instance. It makes me feel like Jane Austen...and makes me think of writing for posterity. :-p

It was like, well, blogging… in that it was personal, and that your were anticipating a feedback, the only difference was that it was a long drawn-out process. You had to wait for days, weeks…or even months for the Philippine Post to get you your mail. J 

 I haven’t written a letter in a long time, by the way. The last I wrote was an eight-page letter to someone (but it wasn’t a love letter or anything scary like that), but all the same, I have no idea what became of it. I don’t know what became of it. I didn’t put a return address. :-p Because it was a semi-secret thing, I really can’t expect anything to come out of that endeavor, now, can I?

(By this time, the dog had probably eaten it. Which is sad, 'cause it was honest and simple, and probably the only one of it's kind for a very long time.)


Thank You for that letter, Bo. I hope you’ll find your happiness too. This thank you is long overdue. :-p


Have a nice day, everyone. I best be taking my leave. I got work tomorrow. Here’s to you uncovering and rediscovering your memories in your boxes at home. J

~ S.


  1. I've always wanted a playhouse like that.

    Nice photo of your lolo and lola. :)

    And those are very sweet words from a friend :) I myself love writing (and receiving) letters and I agree to everything you said about its merits :)

  2. "We can't choose who we love." reminds me of George Michael. he was more poetic/cryptic though "I can't make you love me if you don't"

    But I like your guy friend better. simply bec. George Michael said those words to another man, while your guy friend wrote those words to a really, really Babe of a Doc... Baby Doc (there's really something about pedia chicks. that's why I married one.)

    May your feet get sweeped really, really soon by a Royalty in Nike...

  3. I LOVE going through old photos and letters. I wish I had more time to do that nowadays but I guess as you get older, you get busier as well. haha! :) Such nice words from your friend, I wish the art of writing letters and sending them via mail instead of e-mail was still popular! ;P

  4. We used a small, old hen house as our playhouse and we built tree houses, forts, etc. I was never much of a letter writer. If I was writing, it was to a girl I liked (1st time was 6th grade), even though you often couldn't tell that from the letter.

    I wish I had more letters and more pictures.

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