Peeped Out
So this is just a little late here, but Happy Easter to you all. I didn’t get a chance to post on Easter as it’s been a pretty busy week. But of course, that didn’t stop me from stuffing myself with too many Peeps that I am officially done with that marshmallow treat for the year.
Easter Sunday was spent with family. First up was the traditional Easter Sunday Mass with the parents at the church that I went to grade school. (Unfortunately, the grade school has since then closed.) As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m not exactly a “practicing Catholic,” meaning I’m not one to go to mass every weekend. Not that I don’t have a strong belief in my faith, I just don’t think that having to go to mass every week best demonstrates how I practice the teachings of God and Jesus that I was taught growing up. I guess you could really call me a “Lazy Catholic” in that sense. But ask me if I believe in and practice the principle of “Treat others as you would like to be treated,” you bet I do. That’s the part of my faith that I strongly believe in.
But imagine Hubby & I walking into the church just as the mass was about to start. We’re looking around for my parents, as we agreed to meet there. Finally, we find them about 5 rows from the front, and sit in an area that’s in direct eye sight of the parish priest. So as a cell phone goes off just before the first reading, I happen to see the priest do an almost imperceptible roll of the eyes as the reader at the lectern makes the brief announcement to make sure that all cell phone volumes are turned down.
And that’s when I make a grab for my purse to make sure I turn my phone volume down. Imagine, if you will, my cell phone going off in the middle of mass. The sound that would be coming from my purse, coincidently located under my chair, would be singing “Devil Inside / Devil Inside / Every single one of us / The Devil Inside.”
Yeah, a song from one of my favorite bands, INXS. Good thing I was with my parents and my Aunts & Uncles from my side of the family were attending mass at another church at the same time, because that’s the ringtone I assigned to them. 😛 I’m sure that the parish priest would have luuurved me … and my poor Mom probably would have died of embarrassment.
After mass, we headed over to my Uncle’s house (my Dad’s brother) for lunch. My two other Aunts (Dad’s sisters) and their daughters were going to be their too (one of which drove NINE hours from Chicago this past Friday in the midst of a snow storm). I specifically mention that this was my Dad’s side of the family because out of the five siblings (his other brother was in the Philippines), three of them have had either a heart attack or open heart surgery (both, in my Dad’s case). And because heart disease is known to be hereditary, the two other siblings are now terrified that they will also be susceptible to these same issues. As my Hubby & I sat at the “kids'” table with my two younger cousins, we all couldn’t help but laugh at the conversation going on in the next room. “How high is your cholesterol?” “How much exercise are you doing?” “When’s the last time you went to the doctors for a routine check-up?”
And don’t think us “kids” didn’t notice that instead of a nice, big, juicy, fatty Easter ham as our main dish … we had a healthy broiled fish. Yes, that’s right … fish. And it’s not like we didn’t (as “good Catholics”) just finish 6 consecutive Fridays, plus Ash Wednesday, eating fish.. But yes, us cousins couldn’t help but laugh.
After lunch, Hubby & I set up our Wii console on my Uncle’s large screen TV, and the games began. The cousins played a bit of Wii Sports and eventually got the “elders” involved as well. The youngest of my cousins actually “boxed” against my Uncle … and WON. This same cousin also beat this same Uncle, along with my Mom and our Aunt in bowling. And my other cousin? Well, she helped us FINALLY get past Slash in the medium level of Guitar Heroes III (and for that, Hubby & I are incredibly grateful!).
Overall, it was a pretty fun day. Probably one of the best Easters we’ve had in a while. And quite honestly, one where I didn’t find myself obsessively thinking about how unfair it was that I wasn’t able to participate in all the child-related events (-ie- Easter Bunny pictures, Easter Egg hunts, dressing up the young’ins in the traditional Easter Sunday best) surrounding this holiday.
Wow. That’s a pretty amazing feat!
Un-Veiled
First of all, I just wanted to say “Thank You!!” for all the bloggy-love as I officially celebrated my first blogiversary yesterday. I am truly lucky to have such great blog friends!! Reading your blogs and especially your comments to my posts have definitely got me through this past year …. 
Moving on …
To shake things up at work, our bosses decided to do something different. Today was “Hat Day,” where we could all wear a silly hat, a nice spring hat, or even a “Cat in the Hat” hat. What did I decide to wear? Well … check it out!
Okay, so it wasn’t silly or spring-y … but I figured, “Hey! When am I ever going to have the occasion to wear my wedding veil again?” What I really wanted to do was wear a simple white dress and white patent leather shoes with white tights and be a “First Communion” gal. Wouldn’t that have been a hoot?
Over the weekend while at my parents’ house, I went into their cedar closet and dug my veil out of the plastic bag it was in. (Yes, the wedding dress is still hanging in there, too. You think after 11-plus years I might actually get it preserved …) So rather than post our wedding picture once again … and as an homage to my Dad, I figure I’d post this picture of our Father-Daughter dance. (Plus, I think it shows off the details of my dress and veil a little more than our wedding pic … okay, maybe not!)
But seriously … at work when I brought out my veil, many of my co-workers thought I was nuts to do so. “What about keeping it nice and preserved?” or “Don’t you want to keep it safe for when your daughter gets married?” Even when I correct them and say, “I don’t have any children” or “There isn’t a daughter to pass it down to” they always say smugly all-knowingly, “You never know …”
“Duh,” methinks to myself, “You’re right. I’ll never know. And damnit, you don’t know either.”
Do people honestly think that it’s easy for me to think in those terms?! “You never know…” Is this supposed to give me some sort of hope that maybe in the future, I will be able to pass on my bridal veil and/or my bridal gown to my future daughter?
Do they know that this is one of the things that I fear I’ll never be able to experience? To be able to be a “mother of the bride” or to see my husband have his moment in walking his daughter down the aisle? To possibly even have grandchildren?
Sheesh, I’m still trying to get over my fear of not ever being able to dress a nursery, let alone buy baby clothes for a baby that may never come. Or seeing our child go through his or her First Communion. Trying to imagine anything past those moments just seems (and no pun intended) inconceivable.
Okay. Enough of my ranting. Really, I was actually just trying to post a funny post and it turned into this.
Hmmm … must be the damn Lupron that’s got me hot under the collar, literally and figuratively (damn hot flashes)!
Everyday is Like Sunday …
I have this habit of singing this song whenever I’m up early on a Sunday morning. It’s probably a leftover habit from the mid-80’s. It reminds me of getting up on Sundays and having to go to mass with my parents. Hmm … what does that say about me?
So here I am, sitting in a relatively quiet household. The only sound I can hear is my stomach growling (it’s calling for pancakes or waffles) and my Hubby’s breathing as he sleeps. I figure he deserves to sleep in … he’s had a rough couple of weeks, not only with my Dad’s hospitalization but with some major projects he had going on at work at the same time.
And although I wanted to stay cuddled up next to Hubby and sleep in a bit, I had to make a trip over to my parents’ house to drop off a prescription for my Dad.
Yep … Dad made it home safe and sound. Up next … a visit from a home care nurse to help them go over all his new medications and to go over some important things he needs to do … like watching his diet and continuing to do aggressive deep breathing treatments to prevent any further pneumonia.
I specifically asked for a visiting nurse to come out to see my parents because, even though I could be that person to go over all these things, there are some things that get reinforced better by other professionals than by family members. No matter how many times my brother and I go over it ourselves with them.
Speaking of my brother … he’s back in Chi-town where he’s finishing up his last year of residency. He takes his boards on Monday and Tuesday and I’m wishing him the best of luck. He has totally been a trooper during these past weeks, having to drive back and forth (a total of FOUR times) to show his support for both Mom and Dad.
But really … what I wanted to do was to share pictures of his dog. Meet Wrigley. He’s a five-year ex-racing greyhound that my brother and SIL picked up from a rescue league outside of Chicago.
This dog is SO laid back … you can’t help but love Wrigley and his personality. The whole time I was there, he did not ONCE bark (unlike our “puppy” who sounds off at approximately 30 barks per minute). And once Wrigley decides he likes you, he literally wants to sit with you (or on you) and follow you wherever you go.
Wish I could see Wrigley more often. But alas … his Auntie Em only gets to see him whenever he’s brought into town with his Daddy. And can you just imagine this dog driving in a small Mazda for five hours from Chicago to Detroit? Geesh … where does he fit!
Find out what it means to me …
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Find out what it means to me
— Aretha Franklin, “Respect“
There are many different definitions for “Respect.” In linguistics, “Respect” belongs to three different classes of words; noun, adjective and verb.
For this post’s purpose, I’ve chosen the verb form of this word.
re·spect [ri-spekt]
–verb (used with object)
- to hold in esteem or honor: I cannot respect a cheat
- to show regard or consideration for: to respect someone’s rights.
- to refrain from intruding upon or interfering with: to respect a person’s privacy.
- to relate or have reference to.
A subject of “heated” debate occurred recently within our family. I’m sure a lot of this had to do with the fact that we are all physically and emotionally exhausted from the past three weeks of nonstop activity. Basically what it boiled down to is that apparently I was not showing respect for this particular family member.
I feel I need to preface this by, once again, stating that I am Filipino-American. My parents were both born in the Philippines and my brother & I were born here in the U.S. The reason I felt I needed to bring this up again is because many times I feel like I’ve been brought up in two different worlds. And in these two different worlds, the word “Respect” can differ.
In my “Filipino world,” definition # 1 would be the best use of the word “Respect.” My culture places high emphasis on family hierarchy. The older you are, the more respect you are given. There are many Filipino customs that are specifically meant to show respect to your elders from using a title in front of your older sibling (“Kuya” for a brother, or “Ate” for a sister), to the physical act of greeting elder relatives when they enter a room (a term called “Mano po”). In fact, when speaking to an elder in Tagalog (the Filipino language), it is expected that you add the suffix “po” to most phrases to show respect to them.
In short, “Respect” in the Filipino culture is something that is given to you by right. It’s something that is expected to be given to your parents, your grandparents, your godparents, your older siblings. And because the Filipino “family” is extended to include all relatives and even in-laws … somehow, some where down the line (even if you’re the youngest in your immediate family), you will be shown respect.
In my “American world,” I primarily think that respecting someone (or something like the environment, for example) pertains to definition # 2 above. I feel that respect is something that is earned by showing respect to others … to consider other’s positions, to show empathy for other’s situations. By being successful in doing these (not-so) simple acts, I feel that not only have I earned a person’s trust but I’ve earned their respect as well. Because now, I would hope that in turn, they would show some concern or empathy for whatever situation I might be in … they would respect me.
In short, I think “Respect” goes hand-in-hand with Christianity’s Golden Rule: “… do to others what you would have them do to you.” (Yes, the Catholic School Girl in me is coming out again.) To me, this also means “Respect” goes both ways.
So why the “heated debate”? Well, how am I to blend both these definitions of “Respect” into a bi-cultural household? One way is given by right. The other one is earned. Then … because of 12 years of Catholic school … throw in the whole “Ten Commandments“, specifically the fifth one as it was pointed out to me, and things can get (just a little) sticky.
The Filipino-Catholic in me strongly believes that those older than I am do deserve respect, as they have more life experiences (but not necessarily more wisdom) than I do. Giving them the opportunity to talk and dispense advice (whether it’s good or not), is a way for me to show respect. Although I might not participate in the typical Filipino customs of showing respect (can’t speak the language, and hey … my brother and older cousins HATED be called “Kuya” or “Ate”), I feel that by being polite and showing sincerity to any of my elders is the way I can show that entitled respect.
The American in me, however, has a hard time showing respect to others that don’t reciprocate that respect. How can you show respect to someone who constantly ignores your opinions or suggestions? Or how can you be respectful to someone who won’t stop their angry tirade long enough to hear you speak? They might be your Filipino elders, but wouldn’t you be just as angry and hurt if it was, for example, your boss or a fellow co-worker who was treating you like this? Would you give that person any respect?
What would you do if you lived in my bi-cultural world? What does “Respect” mean to YOU? And who do you think deserves respect in your world?
Sing it, Aretha …