Mrs. Brightside

Last month, I had merienda with a friend whom I have not seen since her family migrated to the US 22 years ago. The little boy and his dad stayed in a restaurant, consuming lots of pizza.  After my merienda, we walked around the mall. The little boy requested for some fries. While waiting for our order, my husband, who was carrying our backpack, checked out some shops. It was during this time that R vomitted - a lot - probably due to overeating. I must have looked really helpless with a toddler who was spewing food all over the floor. I had nothing on me, not even a hankie. My husband was nowhere in sight. I was trying to catch vomit with my hand but of course that didn’t really help. And despite all the stress I was feeling, I was most worried about R’s well being. I wanted to soothe him and make sure he was okay. I felt so bad because he kept on apologizing for making a mess and I had to reassure him that it was okay.  Admittedly, I felt lost and alone. But I had to be on to...

I love writing. And I used to write a lot. But life happens and writing becomes a luxury or sometimes, it turns into a task. I wrote poems in high school. Mostly, the romantic kind. I blogged in college, hopping from one blog to another. I had diaries. I wrote love letters and kept those that I received. But I guess time wanted me to move on from the past when Typhoon Ondoy destroyed these precious possessions. I can't recall the blogs I kept and it would be very embarrassing if they're still somewhere on the Internet and accessible to the public. I don't consider myself a good writer. I'm pretty confident with my grammar skills. But substance and content-wise, I think I'm below average. I'm not creative. I almost flunked a TV scriptwriting class because the story I created was too superficial. I've been told that I'm too wordy. Law school made writing more technical for me. My husband always says laymen won't understand the things I write. He...