Tuesday, February 24, 2004
i buried my dad last sunday
i wish i could say something witty or meaningful, but i can't.
it was nice, though, to see how many people were touched by my dad's life, despite the fact that he was a terribly anti-social, almost recluse-like, individual. you'd hardly ever see him without a stern countenance, and he always commanded respect (and, when i was younger, fear) from his peers, his younger siblings, and, of course, his family.
i remember the first thing our housemaid of 27 years hysterically said when my sister checked for his pulse in my parents' room and confirmed the worst: 'who's going to pester me in the afternoons now? who's going to ask me what's for dinner?...' and i had to console both her and and my mom on each arm before we went back to the room for a prayer around my dad's deathbed (a mighty comfortable deathbed, may i add)
there were the relatives who just went out of their way and forgot their own daily routines on a sleepy thursday morning just to help with what needed to be done for logistics of my dad's wake.
there were the officemates of 20 years past who, despite not knowing anybody else, braved the distance and the awkwardness of not having anyone to talk to in the wake just to see him (i'd know- i talked to them).
there was the full force of my mom's siblings (and in-laws) who came from the province, who volunteered to keep the round-the-clock watch for my dad, despite our protests (i mean, would he REALLY have felt lonely if we locked up at 2am?)
there was SFC SouthB1C, who served as our choir for all the masses, and who apparently felt that a wake would not be complete without at least 20 boisterous twentysomethings in the joint.
there was the poem written by Jose Rivadeneyra, called Reminiscences, that seemed a poignant verbal representation of how we felt then.
there was my dad's mother-in-law, who flew in the day he died, and threw herself prostrate over his coffin while my siblings and i looked at her daughter with incredulity. it never ceases to amuse me, because this reaction was from the same woman who was largely indifferent of my mom marrying my dad and ultimately first met her son-in-law on the wedding day itself. funny how things change.
it was beautiful to see a sea of white and khakis in a funeral on a sunday afternoon. i think it made for a much lighter atmosphere- it didn't help me from bawling my eyes out reading a eulogy, though (it's tough being the last born, and only son). but i think i shed the most tears that day, because, as i did manage to say through my tears, 'today is a day of celebration. a celebration of a life that will continue to reside in our hearts until our own time has come.'
or something like that. i lost my eulogy now, so i can't recreate it verbatim. it was so light thereafter, i was even laughing while carrying his box of ashes (dad, you're heavy!) and trying to comfort my mom when it was being lowered into the ground. only my mom's family was bawling then. (and they did it a lot, as it was, during the wake)
and when we were packing up and ready to go home after planting him in, my sister asked, 'is everyone accounted for? have we left anyone behind?', i couldn't help but reply, 'well... we left dad behind.'
i do believe my dad is happy now. in the last month of his life, he lost everything that he was fiercely possessive of- his pride, his privacy, and his quick-witted speech. i hope that in his suffering here on earth, he was able to gain some pardon from suffering in the afterlife. (whichever one there is, that is)
he knew that he could die knowing that, though he missed his first grandchild by 6 months, he could take comfort that the child would grow in a loving network of aunts, grandparents, and one grumpy uncle. that he really needn't have worried about his wife, or his children, because he had taught them well to be strong in the face of pain- a lesson he taught very well by example in the last year and a half. that, because of all this and more, as far as he was concerned, he had already won.
and i, too, believe he had.
so yeah, dad, smile.
i wish i could say something witty or meaningful, but i can't.
it was nice, though, to see how many people were touched by my dad's life, despite the fact that he was a terribly anti-social, almost recluse-like, individual. you'd hardly ever see him without a stern countenance, and he always commanded respect (and, when i was younger, fear) from his peers, his younger siblings, and, of course, his family.
i remember the first thing our housemaid of 27 years hysterically said when my sister checked for his pulse in my parents' room and confirmed the worst: 'who's going to pester me in the afternoons now? who's going to ask me what's for dinner?...' and i had to console both her and and my mom on each arm before we went back to the room for a prayer around my dad's deathbed (a mighty comfortable deathbed, may i add)
there were the relatives who just went out of their way and forgot their own daily routines on a sleepy thursday morning just to help with what needed to be done for logistics of my dad's wake.
there were the officemates of 20 years past who, despite not knowing anybody else, braved the distance and the awkwardness of not having anyone to talk to in the wake just to see him (i'd know- i talked to them).
there was the full force of my mom's siblings (and in-laws) who came from the province, who volunteered to keep the round-the-clock watch for my dad, despite our protests (i mean, would he REALLY have felt lonely if we locked up at 2am?)
there was SFC SouthB1C, who served as our choir for all the masses, and who apparently felt that a wake would not be complete without at least 20 boisterous twentysomethings in the joint.
there was the poem written by Jose Rivadeneyra, called Reminiscences, that seemed a poignant verbal representation of how we felt then.
there was my dad's mother-in-law, who flew in the day he died, and threw herself prostrate over his coffin while my siblings and i looked at her daughter with incredulity. it never ceases to amuse me, because this reaction was from the same woman who was largely indifferent of my mom marrying my dad and ultimately first met her son-in-law on the wedding day itself. funny how things change.
it was beautiful to see a sea of white and khakis in a funeral on a sunday afternoon. i think it made for a much lighter atmosphere- it didn't help me from bawling my eyes out reading a eulogy, though (it's tough being the last born, and only son). but i think i shed the most tears that day, because, as i did manage to say through my tears, 'today is a day of celebration. a celebration of a life that will continue to reside in our hearts until our own time has come.'
or something like that. i lost my eulogy now, so i can't recreate it verbatim. it was so light thereafter, i was even laughing while carrying his box of ashes (dad, you're heavy!) and trying to comfort my mom when it was being lowered into the ground. only my mom's family was bawling then. (and they did it a lot, as it was, during the wake)
and when we were packing up and ready to go home after planting him in, my sister asked, 'is everyone accounted for? have we left anyone behind?', i couldn't help but reply, 'well... we left dad behind.'
i do believe my dad is happy now. in the last month of his life, he lost everything that he was fiercely possessive of- his pride, his privacy, and his quick-witted speech. i hope that in his suffering here on earth, he was able to gain some pardon from suffering in the afterlife. (whichever one there is, that is)
he knew that he could die knowing that, though he missed his first grandchild by 6 months, he could take comfort that the child would grow in a loving network of aunts, grandparents, and one grumpy uncle. that he really needn't have worried about his wife, or his children, because he had taught them well to be strong in the face of pain- a lesson he taught very well by example in the last year and a half. that, because of all this and more, as far as he was concerned, he had already won.
and i, too, believe he had.
so yeah, dad, smile.
Saturday, February 07, 2004
selling to the masses
thursday and friday i went on the field to see how our retail and distributor BDMs (Business Development Managers, a fancy title for salesmen) operate on a daily basis. i was able to sell goods of our company in the distributor field (which basically sells to the sari-sari stores and minimarts) to certain outlets in cavite. i ended up selling 15K worth of our goods in about an hour, well above our quotas for those outlets (which is not necessarily a good thing), and i was able to appreciate the work being put out by our BDMs. boy, it was tiring! my feet hurt like crazy after! just imagine trying to hard sell your goods to people with dubious stares and small budgets. i saw purchases from as low as 300 pesos to over 11K. the owners of these places are literally of all types of demeanors (and i only met 11 store owners, mind you) it's deeply satisfying when you complete a sale, and disappointing when you don't make quota for a particular store. it floors me thinking of the effort made by thousands everyday trying to sell goods to their customers.
peace
this weekend will be a pretty busy one for me, since i skipped out on a lot of office work for the last two days which i have to catch up on. and it was hanging over my head when i left the office last night. i thought i'd find peace and forget about it on the drive to makati to go out. i thought maybe i'd find it during or after dinner, being with someone who i wanted to be with (though we did forget our troubles for awhile looking through the shelves of our favorite bookstore)
it seemed strange to me that i'd find it at 1am in my parents' room, tired, woken in the middle of the night, and wanting to go back to my room, while stroking my dad's forehead to lull him to sleep.
thursday and friday i went on the field to see how our retail and distributor BDMs (Business Development Managers, a fancy title for salesmen) operate on a daily basis. i was able to sell goods of our company in the distributor field (which basically sells to the sari-sari stores and minimarts) to certain outlets in cavite. i ended up selling 15K worth of our goods in about an hour, well above our quotas for those outlets (which is not necessarily a good thing), and i was able to appreciate the work being put out by our BDMs. boy, it was tiring! my feet hurt like crazy after! just imagine trying to hard sell your goods to people with dubious stares and small budgets. i saw purchases from as low as 300 pesos to over 11K. the owners of these places are literally of all types of demeanors (and i only met 11 store owners, mind you) it's deeply satisfying when you complete a sale, and disappointing when you don't make quota for a particular store. it floors me thinking of the effort made by thousands everyday trying to sell goods to their customers.
peace
this weekend will be a pretty busy one for me, since i skipped out on a lot of office work for the last two days which i have to catch up on. and it was hanging over my head when i left the office last night. i thought i'd find peace and forget about it on the drive to makati to go out. i thought maybe i'd find it during or after dinner, being with someone who i wanted to be with (though we did forget our troubles for awhile looking through the shelves of our favorite bookstore)
it seemed strange to me that i'd find it at 1am in my parents' room, tired, woken in the middle of the night, and wanting to go back to my room, while stroking my dad's forehead to lull him to sleep.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
ooh!! comments!
i have decided to delete my message board, and replace it with comments after every post that i make. the logic is simple, actually, and it didn't occur to me until i saw it in actual practice: message boards are better suited to high-traffic sites. this is not to say that comments are for cobwebbed pages, but the traffic here is such that Shelob could weave a web here and no one'd notice. and it really looked weird to see a message board entry that refers to a post... in the archives. so there. i don't expect too much traffic coming my way anytime soon, so comments are just right for this site.
sales con!
last week i joined my first sales convention, and being one of the 'newbies', we had to present a (thoroughly humiliating) dance number. let me not get into the details. but it was 3 days of free food and drinks, albeit boring presentations, and a lot of laughs.
what surprised me, though, was the amount of second-hand smoke i got during the convention. for some strange reaosn, my former company didn't have too many smokers on board, whic suited me just fine. i told people that if i had a culture shock with my new company, it would be with the amount of smokers in the firm. it was pretty bad because you had 60-square foot (i'm just guessing) lobby filled with around 20 smokers. yipes.
last week, i was holding an all-expense paid 3-day package to miniloc and didn't go.
but before you berate me, might i say that i did spend the weekend (all expenses paid, too) at a house facing the shore (of course it was next to the beach, duh?!). and, somehow, even if i had to make the same choice again a million times over, it'd still be a no-brainer. i was in a (decidedly) quieter place, the water was just as fresh and clear (though i admit palawan sand is a lot better), and i was with a long-standing group of friends whose company could never be surpassed by those at work. i now know the following things:
1) sunsets are really fast
2) bamboo windchimes are the greatest
3) and so is a seaside siesta on a hammock
4) you REALLY should watch your steps wherever you go
look closer!
5) you don't need to go far to make an ansel adams photo
6) and you do quite silly things when you're with a bunch of like-minded people
disclaimer: we found the bottle on the shore and properly disposed of it afterwards. and no animals were harmed in the making of this photo ( though they were quite uncomfortable for a few seconds, i admit)
i also admit, however, that i missed this:
arrrrgh!!!
i have decided to delete my message board, and replace it with comments after every post that i make. the logic is simple, actually, and it didn't occur to me until i saw it in actual practice: message boards are better suited to high-traffic sites. this is not to say that comments are for cobwebbed pages, but the traffic here is such that Shelob could weave a web here and no one'd notice. and it really looked weird to see a message board entry that refers to a post... in the archives. so there. i don't expect too much traffic coming my way anytime soon, so comments are just right for this site.
sales con!
last week i joined my first sales convention, and being one of the 'newbies', we had to present a (thoroughly humiliating) dance number. let me not get into the details. but it was 3 days of free food and drinks, albeit boring presentations, and a lot of laughs.
what surprised me, though, was the amount of second-hand smoke i got during the convention. for some strange reaosn, my former company didn't have too many smokers on board, whic suited me just fine. i told people that if i had a culture shock with my new company, it would be with the amount of smokers in the firm. it was pretty bad because you had 60-square foot (i'm just guessing) lobby filled with around 20 smokers. yipes.
last week, i was holding an all-expense paid 3-day package to miniloc and didn't go.
but before you berate me, might i say that i did spend the weekend (all expenses paid, too) at a house facing the shore (of course it was next to the beach, duh?!). and, somehow, even if i had to make the same choice again a million times over, it'd still be a no-brainer. i was in a (decidedly) quieter place, the water was just as fresh and clear (though i admit palawan sand is a lot better), and i was with a long-standing group of friends whose company could never be surpassed by those at work. i now know the following things:
1) sunsets are really fast
2) bamboo windchimes are the greatest
3) and so is a seaside siesta on a hammock
4) you REALLY should watch your steps wherever you go
look closer!
5) you don't need to go far to make an ansel adams photo
6) and you do quite silly things when you're with a bunch of like-minded people
disclaimer: we found the bottle on the shore and properly disposed of it afterwards. and no animals were harmed in the making of this photo ( though they were quite uncomfortable for a few seconds, i admit)
i also admit, however, that i missed this:
arrrrgh!!!
