3rd day of simbang gabi
I started going to Simbang Gabi yesterday. It was already the 2nd day but I'm trying to make myself believe that it doesn't matter whether I missed a day or not, it is my intentions that matter. I haven't had the courage to go to mass at St. Joseph's Cathedral here in Abu Dhabi because the memories I have of that place, I had with my father. During my high school days he would come home from work and then summon us to church every Sunday (weekends here were Thursdays and Fridays then). So when I got back, I couldn't make myself hear mass in the same church where we spent a lot of family Sundays together.
Yesterday I finally went even if the Tagalog Simbang Gabi is held outdoors because of the massive amount of Filipino parishoners. I was moved by how at "home" I felt seeing a lot of Pinoys. It's like I never left Manila at all! The choir sang a lot of Christmas songs and the current Filipino priest at St. Joseph is Father Troy, I liked him instantly because he is very witty and makes his sermon understandable by laymen. The cold weather helped a lot to add a touch of Christmas spirit in the air. My flimsy cardigan wasn't enough to keep me warm while the breeze blew during the entire mass. And then I met my brother-in-law's girlfriend's family. We all had dinner at our favorite quaint Vietnamese restaurant just a building away from here.
I went again today to another Simbang Gabi mass. The choir sang all my favorite church songs from back home but they also sang one of the songs from my father's wake last year. It was the first time I heard it again and I hyperventilated. My heart felt like it was going to jump off my chest as I struggled to keep my tears from falling down my cheeks. I think my little sister-in-law noticed it and she rested her head on my shoulder as we listened to the lovely choir's rendition. I thought about Papa and how surreal everything still is, like a bad dream I badly want to wake up from. But it's almost Christmas again and he's not here anymore and everyday it still hurts to realize that I have to move on because he's gone.
I still dream of him a lot of times and sometimes when I'm half asleep, I think he visits me a lot leaving subtle hints that he's still with me always.
I think this year's perfect word would be HEALING because a year later I still have not healed fully. I am still trying to cope with my loss, trying to be stronger everyday, and trying to look forward to new things to come. Perhaps next year it will be about HOPE because I learned that it is always important to HOPE because sometimes HOPE is all you need to give you the strength to carry on. Time heals all wounds, they say, just give time time.
Yesterday I finally went even if the Tagalog Simbang Gabi is held outdoors because of the massive amount of Filipino parishoners. I was moved by how at "home" I felt seeing a lot of Pinoys. It's like I never left Manila at all! The choir sang a lot of Christmas songs and the current Filipino priest at St. Joseph is Father Troy, I liked him instantly because he is very witty and makes his sermon understandable by laymen. The cold weather helped a lot to add a touch of Christmas spirit in the air. My flimsy cardigan wasn't enough to keep me warm while the breeze blew during the entire mass. And then I met my brother-in-law's girlfriend's family. We all had dinner at our favorite quaint Vietnamese restaurant just a building away from here.
I went again today to another Simbang Gabi mass. The choir sang all my favorite church songs from back home but they also sang one of the songs from my father's wake last year. It was the first time I heard it again and I hyperventilated. My heart felt like it was going to jump off my chest as I struggled to keep my tears from falling down my cheeks. I think my little sister-in-law noticed it and she rested her head on my shoulder as we listened to the lovely choir's rendition. I thought about Papa and how surreal everything still is, like a bad dream I badly want to wake up from. But it's almost Christmas again and he's not here anymore and everyday it still hurts to realize that I have to move on because he's gone.
I still dream of him a lot of times and sometimes when I'm half asleep, I think he visits me a lot leaving subtle hints that he's still with me always.
I think this year's perfect word would be HEALING because a year later I still have not healed fully. I am still trying to cope with my loss, trying to be stronger everyday, and trying to look forward to new things to come. Perhaps next year it will be about HOPE because I learned that it is always important to HOPE because sometimes HOPE is all you need to give you the strength to carry on. Time heals all wounds, they say, just give time time.