Photo: Pops and Mamita

Pops and Ma at Lemuel's Wedding. December 30th, 2011. Photo By: S.

Two of the funniest people I know...  :-)

(For someone born only two months after my mother, my father really likes to make fun of their age differences...saying that he married a [much] older woman. Go figure.)

Happy 31st Anniversary, Mader and Pops!

We love you!

- Phanie and Donskie.

(Ma was born December 13th, and Pop, February 22. What a difference two months makes...haha.)

Photo: Sunset in the Sky

Sunset in the Sky. January 1, 2012. Photo By: S.

I love the fiery, but nonetheless quiet, drama of sunsets...

...and I have to say that although my flight got delayed to Manila got delayed and we had to hover for almost an hour in midair, I liked the fact that I ended up with a pretty picture (well, pictures, actually. :-)).

Sunsets can be pretty symbolic;  the end of a good day, the prequel to a new one, or it can be just a plain sentimental memory, like maybe a beautiful sunset shot off Rizal Boulevard. But this one's pretty different, because, for one thing, i took it up in the sky.  :-)

How often does one get to catch that?

(At least, not for me, most of my trips have been early in the morning, or in the middle of the afternoon.)

:-)

It seems like an unconventional sunset picture...with clouds and more clouds in the horizon. 

I take that as a lucky omen.

An unconventional sunset...to symbolize an unconventional, but hopefully good, year ahead?

I hope so. :-)

Happy New Year. :-)

Love,

S.

Photos by: Me. :-)

Oh, and some family pictures thrown in. Not everyone could make it, though. But doesn't green look totally...funky fresh? :-)

:-) Love. Fun.

Flooded playground

So I got to hear from my family that yes, they were all safe, and dry...but it was not the case for some of the people who lived near the river. There definitely were casualties, and my heart and prayers goes out to the families who were affected by the flash floods.

I was news-less. I had no idea what our place looked like, as the news were more focused on Cagayan de Oro and Iligan. I have friends from there, and i'm worried about them too.

My cousin posted pictures of what the flooding looked like, the extent of the damage. This picture below shows the water (these plants were chest-high).

The wooden orchid holders are hip-high...and my cousin's place is like, really huge and wide, but the water from the river still got up to very near their house!

 

This was one of the places we played in when we were kids...not the gate. it's almost submerged in water!

 

the water from the river got really huge... actually there's never been a flood this bad in Dumaguete. ever.

   

look at that. (oh, and in case you're wondering, my tita's orchids survived, funnily enough.)

we grew up playing in a lot of open spaces, so when i saw this, I was just very grateful...that the flooding in the house wasn't as bad. I mean, it's at a lower level than this one, but thankfully, it didn't get any worse than just ankle-deep, or less. 

 

We used to play here in my Lola's old coconut processor ( what's a Landahan in English?:-))

 

that cube-like structure is a bathhouse...the water got up to the doorknob, by the way.

 

the gates...

  

emphasis not on my cousin's trusty Islanders, but on the mud and river silt that coated everything (we had this in the house too...which people helped scoop out.). Even Shannon Lee, our dog,  had to be taken to my tita's place because they couldn't put her in the house because of the mud.

The strong river current from the mountains took away chunks of the riverbank and some houses . our house is near the river...but not as near as that one. Still, it was pretty scary, as the water from the river had gone all the way up to our house and gotten in. Had it not been for my Pop's "barricade" and quick thinking (and the fact that it happened on a Saturday), I think we would have lost more than my high school stuff and pictures..) :-(

Very thankful that everyone I love, back home is safe. Yes, that I am.

Love, 

S.

(Pictures taken from my cousin's site, with permission.)

Sunday Birthday Party

Last sunday,I went over to my cousin Kuya Rich's place for his birthday party... I was really looking forward to it, knowing a lot of my family in Manila will be there. :-) I had just gotten off duty, and just finished rounds before I trooped over to their place (which was far away, I have to say.)

Kuya Rich/Kuya Ick2x. 7 hours short of 33 years.

With some of my family who went. Uncle Cading, Uncle Fred, Ate Cel's Ma and Pa, Ate Girlie, Auntie Clarita, Kuya Ick, Ate Cel, Anton, Nico, JC, Kuya Ronnie, Ate Norge, Isabelle, Katrina, and well, me. :-)

That's Ate Girlie, Kuya Ick, JC, Serge, Anton, Me, Katrina, and Isabelle (who is only 13, and has size 10 feet.:-p) <-- Oh yes, we have the same surname. Not a lot of us in these parts. ;-)

This one has Nico (Kuya Ick's son) in it. :-) 

Their condo set-up reminded me of what I thought an Ivy League condo housing would be like. There are buildings, yes, but lots of open spaces, as well.

That's "tough guy" Uncle Fred quietly reading the paper. lol... MY earliest memory of Uncle Fred was when I was about 6 or 7, when he visited (or was he assigned there?)  my hometown, and he let me hold his standard issue .38. I remember thinking, "Wow, cool!"


(Good thing I didn't point it at anyone.)

Anyway, all in all, it was a really fun Videoke party, with lots of food. Of course I sang, and of course I stuffed myself. :-) I always love a good [family] party. :-)


Love, 


S.

Photos: Long weekend swim

I had a great time during the long weekend.  I spent it with family. and people i loved.

That's me and my godchild Promise, who went for her first ever swim at the pool where I lived.

This is a vintage-ish pic of me and her on the rocking horse...something I'd keep, and show her when she's older. 

Chamie and Tope were my friends from way back in Med School...and they both had Promise. That's Erika, Tope's niece who thoroughly enjoyed the swim and definitely wants to come back. :-)

had a great time, with the "whole household".

I know Promise had fun...

In fact, so did Manang Bebang. ;-)

Love,

S.

Photo: All Saints Day

Wax and Light. August 2011. Baclaran, Manila.

"Lighting a candle is a way of extending one's prayer and showing solidarity with the person on whose behalf the prayer is offered." (full article here.)


This is in remembrance, as well, for all those that we have ever loved and have gone ahead of us.

Family Meeting

…that the old name of Kyoto, Japan, used to be Miaco?

That’s something I usually say during conversations (or in parties)…well, once or twice, but not every time. Anyway, I met up with my cousin and nephew yesterday at MOA. It was my first time to meet them, after just talking to them on facebook. But hey, like with any other thing that is near and dear to your heart, family will always be family. We hit it off like we had known each other for years.

<a href="http://whyatep.multiply.com/photos/album/26/september_5_2011#4"><img border="0" src="http://multiply.com/mu/whyatep/image/1/photos/26/500x500/4/IMG-7259.JPG?et=wzgm1aB5zKfIFZlQfUozmg&nmid=482703970"></a>

Kuya Bong, 45 , and my nephew Miko, 21. And yes, they look like my father and Uncle. I think it’s the Japanese eyes thing…it runs in the family.

<a href="http://whyatep.multiply.com/photos/album/26/september_5_2011#5"><img border="0" src="http://multiply.com/mu/whyatep/image/1/photos/26/500x500/5/IMG-7265.JPG?et=x%2BLIjs8MnW%2C7xhWwvIY45w&nmid=482703970"></a>

We hit it off. LOL…as my cousin said, like my father, he was “the life of the party”. <—Actually, my pop is a little more reserved, but he does make people laugh.

<a href="http://whyatep.multiply.com/photos/album/26/september_5_2011#6"><img border="0" src="http://multiply.com/mu/whyatep/image/1/photos/26/500x500/6/IMG-7278.JPG?et=5tWKWsRzhuRfMgSaQooHwQ&nmid=482703970"></a>

Miko had Pigeon at Mr. Poon’s, where we had dinner, when they brought me home. “What does it taste like, Man, chicken?” Miko: No, Duck.

Same difference.

love,

S.

The big oral exam

The best place to study would be poolside, where I live. There's a good breeze (So not Manila
-like), and the people pretty much do their own thing all the time.

I'm kind of feeling the willies over the oral exam tomorrow. I have the tendency to talk really fast when I'm nervous, and to begin with, I already talk fast to begin with, be it in whatever language or dialect. It's almost, well...manic.

:-p

One time, I had a supervisor who wanted me to tape my interviews with patients, and I found out some surprising things about myself, I.e. I tend to talk (a lot) with my hands, and that I shouldn't wear a dress and that among others, I shouldn't be too, well, perky (because I usually am.haha)

And an important thing to note was that I shouldn't be wearing a skirt with a hemline above my knees, and that pants are better becAuse they make it easier for you to run when you need to. Oh, and that I shouldn't stAy within "grabbing" or "kicking" distance from the patient.

Its funny watching yourself do an interview on video. On can never really be aware of their own little tics until they see it for themselves. Oh, and another useful thing I learned from that was that...the angle from the left suits me better than the other. Haha.

----

it is the first year anniversary of my grandfather's death today, and I've been meaning to write something special about it. I was going to do it the other night but I didn't get to becAuse I was crying. Nd I was tired from work. But mostly, it was because I missed my grandfather so much.

I wasn't with him when he died. I was 2 hours away at the hospital where I worked then, and I had just done my first 24 hour shift when my cousin Chris called to tell me that Lolo was indeed gone. I was just quiet at first, but when it finally sunk in, I had to cry. And not just cried tears, I sobbed like a big kid. But I could not apologize for what I was going through that day, that big loss that I had felt in my heart. My grandfather, the kindest person I had ever known was forever gone, and I had never had anyone close to me die, and leave me like this.

I stayed in the doctors quarters for most of that morning (luckily I didn't have any patients that morning), and just lay motionless, wallowing in the finality of my loss. My friend Ivy called me after I texted her (she lost her dad at an early age, and she understood). I called another friend as well, someone I felt I could talk to about anything then, and he just listened while I talked about what I had felt. He had never met my grandfather, of course, but I felt much much better after I talked to him. I recall that he teased me about it, it almost felt like he was just patronizing me. But in the end, I felt a whole lot better after hearing his voice, I almost felt like I was home.

Losing people we love is never easy...they have become a part of us, in such a way that when they die, it's almost as if a part of your heart was also taken away.

------

I grew up with a lot of love, I suppose. And I have a lot to give. And I'm very thankful for that.

-----

(I miss you, lolo.)


----

Happy Sunday everyone.

Love,

s.

Dencio's and the Hangover

No, i didn't do anything bad of over the weekend. (The title is not related.)

Just had my cousins stay with me for a couple of days.

My cousin Lemuel (who just got back from Japan on a training grant (he's an engineer)) was feeling generous, so he took us all out to grill dinner. He wanted Gerry's Grill, so I said..."Hey, I know where that is!" 

And when we got there....the place turned out to be a Dencio's. haha . My bad. 

That's my cousin Lemuel, and his fiance Patricia, who's also an engineer. She's going to be a lawyer soon, too. So my cousin goes, "You know, we're very lucky, our kids will be both good-looking (at this, he raises his eyebrows up and down), and smart (and then he looks at her.).  :-p 

lol... sorry, but it sounds better in my dialect when we say it.

Oh, and we had sisig and crispy pata, and sinugba...until we could barely stand up.

:-)

And the clincher?

We watched Hangover II afterwards. 

:-) Such fun!

Love, 

S.

Tricky Boy vs. The Thousand Light bulbs

My father doesn’t trust me to screw on a light bulb.


He’d rather I call the building electrician who charges 100 pesos an hour rather than have his “little” girl change the busted light bulb.


But because he’s in town for a surprise visit, he screwed it on himself.


:-)


Pops texted me the other night telling me that he was going to be in Manila for some work-related trip with the mayor about some lighting seminar something or other.


I thought it was a way cool surprise. It would be nice to see my pop, I thought it would be nice to give him a tour around my hospital, so he could see where I worked.

This is my pop. (Lol. :-))


I was going to post the picture of him standing in front of the roster of names of the psychiatry residents (one of them mine), pointing to my name, and acting like the complete “stage father”. I actually toured him around the ward (where he got all curious and actually wanted to see my patients, which of course, I good-naturedly refused to do, because of the privacy clause.) I also took him around the hospital, where he saw the ER (he was surprised at how many patients there were, and how crowded it was.). When we passed by the ambulatory unit from across the street, I pointed out to him a patient who I thought was probably going to be admitted. “Pop, do you think that’s a Psych Patient?” I asked. “ Hmm...” he went, thought a little harder, and finally said, “No, she looks normal.”


(Haha. There is a reason why he’s an Engineer and I’m a psychiatry resident. True enough, I saw the same patient in the wards the next day.)


:-)


We just got home from Quiapo, where he wanted to go because he was looking for a place that reportedly sold good ham in Aranque Market. We took a cab, and walked around the Quiapo area most of the way.


He knew the area…and while we were walking, he shared a story about back in the seventies, when he was still in Nautical school, he and his friends were into Bruce Lee movies and from ROTC class, they’d line up to see the movies at the Bruce Lee festival (this is pretty much why I grew up watching Bruce Lee movies as well). They’d troop on Saturdays and munch on banana-cues (essentially bananas fried in sugar syrup).
We bought strawberries for home, and when we passed by a thrift shop, he held on to some tops that I liked while I picked out some more. Haha. He was a pretty good sport. We also ended up buying me replacement lamps for those that I had busted in my apartment (and hadn’t changed because I didn’t have the time), a screwdriver set (although he wouldn’t trust me to use it to change the ballast on my bedroom light), a table, things I needed for school, etc.


The sales clerk at the hardware store tested out one of the bulbs, and started to explain how the lights worked, and I was almost puffing out my chest when I said, “It’s ok, my pop’s an engineer, and he knows all about that.” Haha. The dude was Ilonggo, trying to speak in Cebuano, and very, very chatty. Pop and I gave 
him a good ribbing, and he laughed along.


-----


I reckon I’m a daddy’s girl type of girl. :-) I get along well with my father, and we’re very similar in that we are both stubborn, and that we both love a good laugh. We both want to do things to make people feel at ease. We don’t always agree on certain things, and there were even times that we’d have to resort to some book source, or some internet source to settle a discussion (which I almost always win anyway, haha. My father is not a big reader of books, but he is a sharp man.). They’re usually pretty trivial stuff…and one of the funniest I can recall was when we were arguing over what particular cannon they used in Desert Storm. LOL.


(Whatever… :-p)


He’s a joker, really, and I do recall times when we’d take at least two hours during dinner because he was always entertaining us with a joke, or a work anecdote, and stuff. Ahh…good times. 


--------


In theory, I reckon I know how to change the ballast of a fluorescent lamp, but no, I am not supposed to do it on my own. Lol.


He’d rather have someone do it for me, because he doesn’t trust me not to hurt myself around electricity. (He actually explained things as he went along fixing stuff in the house, including my toilet flusher, but of course, wouldn’t actually let me do it.)


Don’t worry pops, I’ll make sure I’ll get a man who can fix the ballast, change my lightbulbs, and do the plumbing as well as you can ( as well as make me very happy, of course.).


:-p


------
Ohers:
 Congratulations, Atty. Zeus Yee! 
 Going home for the weekend.
 Attending graduation of 4 of my cousins. 
 Grew a pair of balls...but am slightly miserable about the timing. :-S

Fans

My pop and I are essentially Manny Fans. :-)

("Community-watching" the Pacquiao-Margarito Match at my uncle Nyoti's place. lol...and I do mean "community", 'cause a lot of people turned up.)

Go Manny. 

When you "know" (and other stories)

I was in heaven last Sunday.

My caramel Macchiato grande. Grazie.

With mountains and oodles and stacks of books everywhere, "Fully-Booked" at Bonifacio High Street ia one of my favorite places to be in.  I was there with my friend C. for a private screening of an indie film (there's actually one every month) of one of his friends (his, "famous" friends, I always tease).


I enjoyed it immensely. As of now, I cannot talk about the movie we watched, but it would suffice to say that it's probably going to be big when it comes out.

It was a good creative process. They called that gathering "The Critics Preview", and at the end of the film, the film people had a free-for-all discussion, taking in questions and comments, and getting the audience's opinions and suggestions. It was a very stimulating creative process. I especially loved the multi-layered quality of the movie. There was a rationale behind every shot they did and it was fascinating to listen to the director talk about the intricacies that went behind the making of the film.

Myself in the audience. Of course I asked me question. lol.

Sitting in the audience, I felt so giddy. I always did love being in a creative environment and I have a deep, deep respect for the talented people who value and pursue their chosen art form, seeing its completion through at all cost.


------------------

A group of writers was heard to have once said that perhaps the hardest topic to write about was that of...love, without sounding too corny (this statement was paraphrased).

I didn't agree at first, because I've always thought of it as a fairly easy topic that anyone can relate to, everyone must have at some point or other fallen deeply and hopelessly in love and has to have some story to share about it. People fall in and out of love all the time. Then I realized that to distill it from its raw emotion to something pure and beautiful without being too heavy or overbearing as an art form is quite difficult after all.


I suppose this is true...when writing, one is tempted to add elements of oneself into the mix, with different results. What is true for one, may not necessarily be what the reader wants to take into himself or herself. It's terribly daunting a task, and the last thing you want to be is overbearing. Love, is multi-dimensional, an experience that is the different, yet is the same...yet still very different in that way, for every lover. It takes much expertise to make it come together beautifully.


-----------

Photo by Tom Epperson.

I made a big decision a few days ago, one that involved how my career was going to flow for the next (precious) few years. It amused me how I had nurtured something for a long time, but when it finally came down to deciding whether I really wanted to go through with it, it turned out that it wasn't what I wanted after all.

As funny as it may sound, I have no regrets of letting go of something that I had thought was my dream.

Someone I admired in my field, at one time said that when she finally made a decision after being in the same situation I was, she felt utter peace. "Contrary to popular opinion, the heart and the mind are rarely in conflict."

It was a calculated risk of a  decision based on intuition and asking myself, "Is this what I really want? and "Will I be happy here?" Like most everyone I suppose, I have a built-in sense of intuition that I always listen to when it "calls".It has never failed me.

I've learned that if something doesn't feel right, and I experience much internal turmoi, it is always best not to go through with it. The last time I did, I spent a considerable amount of time involving myself in something that I didn't finish anyway.

One usually just "knows" if something is going to work out... it's almost like an evolutionary life instinct. What we do about it is entirely up to us.
-------------

Hershey's rose, in my favorite color.

My cousin Hershey spent a few days with me at my place. She's 17 and in her sophomore year in college. Because she's a younger cousin, I feel intensely protective of her and as such, I attempted to gently giving her a talk about "the birds and the bees". It was an (internally) harrowing experience for me, because I've always thought of my younger cousins as little kids...who'll never grow up OR are too young to face what the "big bad world" has in store for them. (I was wrong, of course. LOL. You have to give kids these days more credit.)


She gave me a rose, a pink one, after we were walking around the mall and I gushed over the flowers we saw at one stand. The gift, although given out of a subtle coercion (haha) was awfully touching. I read the card, and she wrote "Thank you for being an inspiration to me..." and...she gave a piece of love advice that really had me thinking.

Surprise, surprise. :-)
-----------


Truth?

I just realized something.

I was thinking about how, like in the King Solomon dilemma of the two mothers, where, he was made to decide as to who the real mother of the baby was. The wise king gave the baby to the woman who decided to just give the baby away to the other woman (who wasn't the mother) just so the baby wouldn't be killed.


In life, you'd have to give up something or some people because you know it'll be the best for them.
--------------

Please, Carabao? (Photo by Tom Epperson)

Tony Soprano is becoming one of my favorite tv characters these days.

I'm a little late, but ever since I've gotten a copy of the whole six seasons from a friend, I've been watching them a little at a time. James Gandolfini fits the character to a T. Lorraine Bracco does a pretty good job as his psychiatrist, Dr. Jennifer Melfi. It must be hard to maintain a poker face when you're seeing a patient like Tony Soprano. (I reckon I should adopt her thing.)


He's sweet and funny, and he's got good intentions, despite the Mafia Boss demeanor, which makes him a lovable character.
One time, he  says to the Psychiatrist: " I think about you all the time. I'm in love with you."
And she says to him, "It is all part of the process. You're making progress."


haha. cute. all that sexual tension between them...
----------
Ah, L'amour fou*, thou art bane. 


(* "Crazy love")

Planner, found at Fully-booked. But I didn't buy this one, though.

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 surprise...in 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 now...my 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.