On Jan 20th. My Journal Notebook

 My Journal Notebook.

I have challenged myself in God’s graces.

1.

The past year 2023 was a bit harsh for our family because it reminded us of my Father’s death.  I’m aware that everybody dies, because we’ve already buried relatives; and sickness, in one way or another, bereaved us and bad cells (cancer) have been up in our genes.  At least we’re growing older in God’s care.

Yet, those times when you can’t just say any word but, “God! “ when my Dad got shot with bullets at 38 years old and in 2023, my nephew Martin, fell down a cliff while on a voluntary round with friends. My siblings and I have come to this scenario again, involving new members of the family grieving for a loved one, traumatized because we lost a young family member successful at 25.  We were not able to say goodbye, or probably thought that “Am I able to justify my love?” for him?  We all came at the end of our ropes and there was nothing or no one else left, but God.  It’s in Matthew, so they say (5:3-12), the Beatitudes.

I pray this year 2024, comes to us in God’s graces to overcome challenges, regain our strengths and yes, rejoice in thanksgiving and prayer counting our blessings in this life.

2.

Colors remind me of events, sensational.  It reminds me after my zombie eyes, after the holidays, that in time, things get better and clearer.  The body heals itself, if nature has intervened because water, breeze and sun rays are God’s creations.  You get well with sleep, food and love for people and surroundings, after days of toil.  Now, my sore eyes are pink, close to white and restored.

3.

Back Ride

It had been a long time, since my Dad carried me on his back.  Way way back, decades and decades. Ever since, not a soul carried me but the boatmen in our province.  First time people got carried, some say, they were alarmed they might fall into the deep and drown, even the bigger guys had second thoughts.  But no, not one, ever fell in the water, just like in a survivor’s game. 

The boatmen in our province was dark, neat and well-chiseled.  They were calm as the sea.  You can see Adonis and feel the blood flowing on the veins, they held you with.

When the sea was calm, you would be on the shore in 5 minutes and if they run, in 3 minutes.  If the motorboat was docked a bit far from the shore, perhaps 7 minutes.  The boatmen were just simple and dramatic in their work, especially when the water wet their eyes, they would not blink, but continue on the run heading the shore.  When I was still a young girl, I wouldn’t even notice their humble line of work, but while I got older, I began to see the worth of their service, even if you only paid them cents.  That was how we spent vacation in my Mother’s hometown.  Before you see the beauty of the town, you have to feel the towns people and nature on their backs.

During my recent vacation, with my siblings and family – I got to experience my back ride, again.  Not to carry me to the shore, but because of my older bones. It’s laughable, but real, people grow older.  The boatman, tour guide, helped me stand, but with all my pauses and turns, I was not able to stand abruptly.  You know when the senior bones crack and squeak… But of course, I am not that old.  I could see the robust body of him who pulled my hand as in a dance.  I never thought I’d kneel down because the boat front was built with hard  wood, so it was really hard labor for me to rise and go up and settle up in the boat.  On the third time of going up and down the boat, I didn’t ask, but quickly grabbed his huge back and did a back ride.  It was cool on his back, wet by the waves…  But I felt sorry, however comfortable I was, for letting him carry a big weight; I remember I uttered, “Son, I am sorry for letting you carry a heavy load.”  And he said, “It’s okay, mother.”  I forgot to give him a big tip because I felt he was family. I thank God for his respect and kindness.  And all the way, I pray God takes care of him, too.

/rosevoc. 2024

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