I didn't know that they allowed cigarettes in the cardiac cath lab of Massachusetts General Hospital.
That's my dad, btw, in 1966.
No, I don't smoke.
Pet lovers, please keep in mind that you may need a cardiologist one day.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Essay question: You see your classmate taking the leaves and flowers off a plant. What will you do?
Answer: I will tell him to stop so that the plant will survive. And I will tape the leaves and flowers back on the plant.
Me, surprised: Miguel, why did you write this? You got minus one on the quiz!
Miguel, angrily: That's because my teacher doesn't have a sense of humor!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Last Sunday, Miguel and I passed by Lola Perla's house.
She had sold it, bought a beautiful new home, and was in the process of transferring her furniture. I thought that maybe I might be of help - or support - somehow. But when I got to Purdue, everyone, even the grandkids, were already gone.
So Miguel and I hung around. He was content to just play his DS, but I was saying goodbye to all the nooks and crannies.
Don't get me wrong; I don't mean to bring anybody's mood down. I'm totally excited about the new house, but of course I'm sad about saying goodbye to 30-plus years of memories: the rumpus room where we spent countless Christmas, Thanksgiving and birthday celebrations; the beautiful pond with koi that were fed by 3 generations of Sulits (4 if you include Lola Ceriang); the long bench where Lolo Benny loved to sit; the master's bedroom where everybody hung around to cool off, sleep, or watch TV (Cartoon Network, The Buzz, or La Salle-Ateneo basketball games); the second floor bedroom-cum-storage room which used to house Beau's train set while he was growing up; even the bonsais and the staghorn fern in the driveway: I said goodbye to them all.
As we walked around the empty house I was telling Miguel about the things we used to do there. (He has his bit of history in Purdue too, like when he fell in the pond.) I don't know if he understood the poignancy of that moment, but I sure do, and I know that there are others there who do. I think he does, because on the way home we were talking about Lolo Benny, as we do from time to time, remembering what he was like - not that I'd ever forget.
One day he will have to say his own goodbyes and will feel this same sadness too. Maybe he will read this post and understand me then, and know he is not alone.