Sweet Memory

“You’re too early for the next subject!” She would often exclaim in a classy bearing. Her cute rabbit-like teeth would simultaneously sway with her angry lips. Next, her eyes would stare at us in a silent rage and would just stop after all of us were finally seated.

Suddenly, I find this memory a little weird but sweet. It was a scene way back in high school that my classmates and I had grown fond of. This scene only happens if we’re late in our English class, and it happens too often that I can never forget it.

Suddenly I missed Jennifer Berces, my High school English teacher. For no reason, she popped out of my head and I just remember her. Ma’am Jen had been our mentor during our junior and senior years.  She taught us the same subject—English, the subject which I am very comfortable listening to. I have had several teachers who taught this subject, but it is only Ma’am Jen, in my opinion, who really can give justice to it.

I could remember the way she speaks with her clear and distinct voice as her mouth illustrates the right pronunciation of a certain word. I love looking at her doing just that. I am her silent fan, hoping that one day I will inherit her flair in speaking. While I’m too engrossed appreciating her knack on teaching, some of my classmates find her as the opposite, and for them she is a bore.

Many books can prove that we, as humans, have different interests. Perhaps my classmates didn’t find an English subject as interesting as the other subjects. Consider Math as an example… I hate it so much that I feel so bored understanding numbers and their correlations. I appreciate how my Math teacher would wait for my slow mental grasp to fully comprehend a certain lesson.  I love her for that but not the subject she ought to instill in my mind. I am bored of Math and it is not perhaps in the circle of my interests.

Exactly ten years ago, I wrote something about my classmates and teachers which I entitled “The Class Comedic Traits”. It was a long essay filled with comical adventure that has transpired over our four years stay in our Alma mater. I wish to show that essay to Ma’am Jen, but I know it was badly written like the ones I submitted to her during our essay exams and so I just let my classmates appreciate it, without her knowing.

I did not know if Ma’am Jen noticed my willingness to learn under her care. I did not know how she finds me as her student. The only thing that consoles me is that I got a passing grade from her. Not bad anyway. Maybe up to now, she didn’t know how she impacted my life. She was really a great influence.

This year is our Alumni Homecoming and she’s one of the many teachers I want to thank and visit. I want her again to utter: “You’re too early for the next subject!”

A new beginning…

To say that I had been in tough grind last year is an understatement. 2013 as the last two digits would convey was absolutely a forlorn year for me. Forlorn because some of my family members had been under the spell of different ailments that tormented us in levels unimaginable.

While peeking through the fragments of yesterday, of that unforgettable year of bad luck, I no longer have that fear brought about by those dismal illnesses that had befallen our family. All is well now and I hope that by God’s grace everything will be fine as we trod the path going to another year—2015.

Being so distraught last 2013, I made a pact to myself that the succeeding years will be the opposite. And yes, 2014 had been so great that it pragmatically wiped out those suspended traces of trauma in our midst and later was replaced by several moments of triumph in our everyday little feats. I think that, if I didn’t hold on to my faith and to what miracles it can do for us, things will not turn as positive as it has been. Faith for all its enigmatic power has strengthened my belief that there is one mighty being whose force is way beyond indescribable. I have then believed that having such reliance to the one who is divinely powerful can do me well and it did. This coming year, 2015, I will still carry that faith that hoisted me from the deep dark hole—that same faith that uncovered the beauty of the blue skies after our family’s storm.

“There will always be a blue sky. A blue sky waiting tomorrow full of hope” This came from the lines of my favorite song “Blue sky” by my favorite Filipino band “Hale”, which is very fitting and at the same time inspiring for those people like me who wish to have a new beginning in life. A new beginning is indeed what I am eyeing for this 2015. I wanted to forget the heartaches brought by a not so beautiful past. I wanted to leave the things that had weighed me down. And lastly, I wanted to clear clutters and start clean and anew.

In the onset of transformation for the coming year I have made certain moves such the birth of this new blog. The passion that had flared up from seeing the beauty and even the distastefulness of life keeps me motivated to chronicle more about it. Because, I believe, even in the most hurting moment in life there is still inspiration and that’s what I’m trying to recapture on my blog labeled as “A life that leaves a mark.” This blog will dig more about my experiences, be it emboldening or uninspiring as long as it is in accord to living the Filipino life. And apart from commencing a blog that embodies my concern not only for my personal being but to my society as well, I also delved more into honing my skill of carving words to put my writing journey into a new level.

Now, like 2014 when I claimed it to be my year, I am again claiming 2015 as mine.Fortified with enough hope, I’m letting go of the luckless and horrible episodes of the past, and with much anticipation, wait for the new beginning to unfold.