Author: Rochkirstin Santos-Sioco

My sister has sent me a set of pictures and video of my dad lying on the hospital bed before the second operation yesterday. We’re glad the surgery was successful. But when I saw the documentary just now, my eyes went bleary.

My brain said “kladk;njfbjfofuew”.

My heart melted, leaving me without a way to say anything—no words, just a bundle of heartbreaking emotions oozing out.

Here’s the affidavit of testimony my sister wrote as told by Daddy and edited by my uncle. Swearing to in accordance with the law, he hereby stated:

Daddy’s Affidavit of Testimony

1. That on April 27, 2011, at around 11:00 AM, he was about to take a jeepney at Soler St. near R. Regente. So, he called the jeepney and it stopped for him; thus, he looked at the right side of the street if there are cars approaching. he did saw a Toyota Altis car approaching which he estimated a distance of 7 cars away from where the jeepney stopped.
2. That as a driver himself, he knew it was safe to cross the street and ride the jeepney. He walked towards the jeepney and when he was already standing in front of the jeepney’s door, wherein he still haven’t stepped on it, the Toyota Altis car suddenly bumped him from behind.
3. That he immediately fell, but he still tried to carefully sit on the ground, although the pressure was still very strong. His body felt so numb, as he also looked at his legs and feet at first, but he knew then that there was a severe injury happened to him.
4. That the driver of the Toyota Altis car looked out for him, while the passengers of the jeepney all shouted due to their shock. His blood just kept flowing on the ground. The bystanders had different reactions and opinions; he heard some saying that he should be unmoved to where he fell, whereas some were saying that he should be sent to the hospital right away.
5. That despite the accident, the driver refused to let him sit on his car to go to the hospital due to his fear, he supposed, of having his blood stained on the car.
6. That a traffic aid and a few bystanders immediately carried and placed him inside a tricycle to rush him to the hospital. The driver of the Toyota Altis car just followed along.
7. That when he was in the tricycle, he started to feel so much pain because his body was condensed for him to be able to fit inside that tiny space of the tricycle. Moreover, besides the pain caused by the effect of the rocky road, the tire of the tricycle got stuck on a manhole that truly made him scream his all.
8. That as he arrived at the emergency room of Metropolitan Hospital, the pain was excruciating that he could even hardly move his legs which kept on bleeding more. Because of the pain on his legs and feet, he could not move his whole body then. He could see his broken bone of right/left leg out when the ER nurse cut off his pants.

This affidavit is to attest the truth of the foregoing statement and is to be executed for whatever legal intents and purposes it may serve.

Many were born with a chip in the head that says: “You must be liked by everyone and accepted by all.”

Of course for those of us who work a program strongly and are spiritually fit, we get to a point where we let go LITERALLY of all of that. It no longer matters if we’re accepted; it only matters if we love ourselves and act accordingly to others. Align with this, I suddenly remember my e-mail signature for all time in college:

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.” – Dr. Seuss

We all belong and we all are accepted on earth, it’s just a matter of us seeing it and believing it. And seeing and believing in this is hard, I know. It’s even harder for me this week when I have encountered a big problem with my clients at work. But eventually, at the end of the work day, by God’s grace perhaps, we understood our states and acted upon our misses to resolve the issues at hand.

I confess that many times these past two weeks I thought I cannot continue doing what I’m doing. But through my friends’ and families’ moral support, I keep holding on. I also confess that I cried one too many times not because I felt so much stressed and didn’t know what to do but because I felt so much blessed.

During mornings when I listen to inspiring podcasts in the train, tears well up my eyes thinking of happy memories. I talk to myself—revealing pain, remembering love, sharing my personal ghosts as I move a step further into the next challenge.

These are the moments when I wanted to burst, to disperse into trillions of atomic, microscopic pieces; these are the times when I felt I would be so minuscule that when you (secret certain person) decide to lash out on me again, I’ll be more together than I am now.

To all those concerned, I got two words: Thank you.

In any case and anyway, I thought people don’t want their lives fixed. Nobody wants their problems solved. Their dramas. Their distractions. Their stories resolved. Their messes cleaned up. Because what would they have left? Just the big scary unknown.

Note to self:

Put one foot in the past, one foot in the future and your heart in the present, so you can see what you’ve been, where you want to go and what’s really best for you. Keep moving.

You’ll be fine. 🙂

This weekend was one stuffed with little big things.

I went swimming two days in a row, did hula hoops for non-stop five minutes, went brisk walking along Bukit Timah Road, Newton, met with Stacey (my friend since elementary), dyed my aunt’s hair velvet brown, read a large pile of old magazine and walked for a total of eight hours while window-shopping.

Oh, I am so restless. Can we have three rest days instead of two? This is me wishful thinking and then this is me sharing a lot of someday’s floating around in my head…

There is the house I will live in, the perfect weight I will be at, the marathon I will complete, the garden I will tend, the business I will make. The world will be safe. Someday.

And though I remind myself, often, that someday never comes, that there is only just today, this day, the one I am in, those someday’s always come creeping back in. I suppose it’s human nature, to dream, to look to the future, to wonder what it might hold. But then I wonder how much of my life I am missing or wasting by spending time on someday when I could be, should be, spending it in this day, in this hour, in this moment.

I go back and forth between the two, trying to find the balance. Living in the moment is so much more difficult than it sounds. My body can do it, my physical self has no choice but to be where it is when it is there. But my mind, it wanders. And yes, I can rein it in, pull it back, sit it down in this chair and say, listen.

But is that always the best thing to do? Aren’t those dreams just as important as the smell of the flowers in the vase before me? Aren’t the possibilities as valuable as the present? Most days, I can’t decide. I try to do both, appreciate where I am, while also contemplating where I might end up.

In a perfect zen moment I am only here, in the now, in the sun I sit in, away from my family and comfort zone. When I have those moments, I revel in them, breathe them in, embrace their importance. But my mind has its own set of wings and often takes flight before I can stop it. And when it soars high above me looking towards some other time and place, I have to wonder if it’s fair to keep it tethered to my ankle.

I don’t have the answer to which way is best. I know it’s important to enjoy what I have when I have it, where I am. I know this. I see beauty in the tiniest of places, in the green trees that greet me as I walk to the MRT station every morning, in the steaming cup of milk tea that starts my day, in the long line waiting for a bus to the office, in the e-mails I read, reports I need to generate and meetings and presentations I need to prepare for. I recognize the value of immersing myself in these things.

But then my mind will hear the echo of a promise and take off in search of the source.

Sometimes, I just sit back and let it wander.

My body can hold its place ’til it returns.

Someday.

People often ask me why I am such an optimist. They ask how I can always remain positive about the world and the people in it. The truth is, I have to. I have encountered places and fields where I see the worst of what people do to others.

I see people hurting not only themselves but their children. I see pain, anger, hatred, indifference and death. I see parents who choose drugs and abusive partners over their children. I see children who are forever affected by the horrible events they have experienced.

Cynicism is easy in my job. It is simple to become hardened and callous about the things that we see and hear about. All around me are people who have given in to this cynicism, and I can’t blame them. After witnessing a certain number of negative things, the human mind naturally tends to think everyone acts that way.

I think, I don’t want that for myself. I have to actively seek the beauty in this world. I do everything I can to find something that takes my breath away each day.

Whether it is a moving quote, an amazingly beautiful photograph, a joke that makes me laugh till I cry, or a smile from a stranger, I find something each day. I confront cynicism where I find it and I do each and every thing in my power to help others to see the beauty in this universe. Because it is there. Beauty is all around us and we are so caught up in our pain that we don’t look for it.

And the truth is that we’re all in this together. Life beats down every person in a complicated and unique way. At some point everyone is hurt to the core by life, and I say, “Good.” Pain is a teacher.

As in the ubiquitous example of a child touching a hot object, pain teaches you what not to do. Embrace your pain and use it for good. Use your past pains to help others avoid the same pains. Use the pains you as examples for yourself. Don’t use your pain as an excuse to avoid life, an excuse to deny beauty, or an excuse to hate. Your pain isn’t the end, it is the beginning. With each little pain we experience, we can choose to let the pain close us off from the world or open us to it. Let it open you to the wonders of the world and the beauty all around you.

Let’s all think positive, we can make it—somehow, somewhere over the rainbow, beneath the pale moonlight. Oh yeah! 🙂