it wasn’t an “ugly cry” but I even surprised myself with involuntary tears and noises despite being cold-hearted – my “excuse” is my age and my ABI.  Maybe it was a combination of my wife finally expressing her true feelings (as she was busy making arrangements ) and seeing my mother-in-law (for the first time and the stark realisation dawning on me).

it’s hard not to talk about somebody else and make it about you but everything’s relative and according to your personal viewpoint – this is an entry in my blog after all.  It’s often difficult to pay “tribute” without getting any reflected light upon yourself – I’ll try to cast as small a “footprint” as possible.

i’ve always subscribed to the concept that memorials are for the benefit of those left behind.  We grieve at our loss and how our lives are less now- and sometimes fail to celebrate that the person has moved on.  Understandably,  we are just human and it is natural to feel this way but it is sometimes subject to a tinge of “selfishness”.

i think it’s rather apt that this goes out on the feast day of  St. Augustine.  i do agree that the Bishop of Hippo’s life be celebrated but “most” overlook the importance of St. Monica, his mother. And how hidden figures can be “forgotten” by history.

My mother-in law was selfless, kind, patient, understanding, amongst other things.  She had her faults, don’t get me wrong but the positives vastly outweighed the negatives.   Her penchant for not complaining about pain or discomfort was, ironically, part of her undoing.

i ran across an article  (

) recently why we hold certain people in high regard.  i argue that selflessness is an extreme form of humility.  she might have not seem intellectually curious but I suspect she was simply a product of her generation when most women were relegated to domestic duties. Perhaps, it would have been more developed under different circumstances – she did, after all, “painstakingly” tutor my wife and niece, both of whom excelled academically, and, given the opportunity, would have liked to become a teacher.

As a sign of her uttermost empathy, although she was in extreme pain, she asked about our family’s laundry situation.  That was quintessentially her.  I, guess, that was one way of externalising her love aside from cooking.

She would have not liked me making a fuss because of her but I don’t know any other way but to share her name: Lucila Legaspi Reyes.

Words are just words.  Sometimes words are not enough – this is one such instance.

(sick and ) tired

August 13, 2019

just got back from my weekly neurophysio appointment and I feel unusually tired.  My physio says it’s not shocking given my “minor” surgery was only 11 days ago – she was glad to, but a bit surprised to, see me.  According to her, the anaesthesia affects the balance making my perturbations (or wobbily-ness  as she puts it) more severe – at least I’ve got an excuse.   On the bright side, my perceived “progress” will be more obvious in the short run.

Usually, I cope well with sessions ( and she refers to me as a “gun”) but she took it easy on me and I still feel like an afternoon nap (which I rarely indulge because of my insomnia).  My “dizziness” wasn’t helped that both my taxis (to and from the venue), I felt “abruptly” started and stopped.

I usually do my home exercise program after but I might give it a pass…for today.