Writing e-mails is so common today that I don't put much stock in those that I write and have written. It is part and parcel of my daily life. A means to an end. It is like breathing.
I despise it when I have to write one to explain myself, or to complain. Explaining and complaining waste my precious time. The former presupposes that I either did something wrong or failed to do something right; the latter, that someone failed to give me my due, requiring of me to raise hell.
And when I do (raise hell, that is), I delight in composing something that lambasts someone, reducing the person to a lifeless, quivering blob. Unfair treatment begets my rudeness and inconsideration.
I find pleasure and challenge when I have to write one to obtain something that I need or want, and then wait for the words to do their magic. I have my fair share of both success and failure. If I were younger and still very adventurous, I'll definitely use them to further my love affairs.
I've received those with good tidings and were well-meaning; as well as those that either accepted or rejected my proposals or pleas; and those that reduce me to helplessness, as in my sister's recent e-mail and my consequent reply:
Hi Kuya,
Sorry haven't been able to email lately. Just been busy at work and the kids. Eric's Dad finally pulled through and is now in a rehab center. The doctors recently revealed that he almost died which I had already suspected, but with some miracle, he made it through this time. He had some delirium at first, but all the chemicals they pumped into him is finally leaving his body, so he's becoming more aware of reality. He is still extremely weak, so they're having him go through a physical therapy regimen.
As for our Dad, he is doing good and per usual always in good spirits. His prostate procedure is on July 29 and shouldn't last no more than 30 minutes. Nothing really to worry about Dad. He has medical problems, but he always stays on top of it by going to his doctors regularly. He never waits until it gets worse. You are right about Mom though, we will never convince her to see a doctor. This past year, she has gotten more frail and you can hear her breathlessness. Whenever we visit over to their house, she always falls asleep now in the sofa unlike before. She can't even carry the babies anymore. She gets bruises all over which she tries to cover up. Benson suspects it's diabetes. I try to visit there as much as I can since I don't really know how much time we have with Mom or Dad, but most especially Mom. I try to make time for my kids to see them, so they can have some memory of their grandparents like we did with Nanay and Tatay.
Anyway, I'll be on vacation next week from work. Finishing some home projects and we'll be going to Las Vegas for some R&R with the kids for a couple days. I'm looking forward to that. I will try to get the letter out by this Saturday. Ordinary post is about 10-15 days I believe. I will send you an update email when I send it, so you know when to look for it in the mail.
Love, Bel
Belinda,
Your e-mail sort of drove home the point that I may not be able to see Mom and Dad in the flesh again. Of course, this thought has always been considered, but at all times relegated to the subconscious because of its unpleasantness. And now it has resurfaced.
I sort of envy you guys because you can see them whenever you want to. Spend as much time with them because we never know when. You know what I mean. Life's like this. This is why we make the most of the time that Denise is with us. Lots of things may happen when loved ones are apart.
You are right in making the most of your time with your children. The happiest times are when the children are still under your wings. If you will recall, we were one big happy family at Philam. We had difficulties, but still we were all together. Times like these fly like the wind. Before you notice it, the children will have gone on their own separate ways, chasing their own dreams.
Love,
Kuya
P.S. What happened to Eric's dad, by the way? Your e-mail was not that clear to me.
