I often wondered how marriage will look like… say, 40 or 50 years after. Will it still have that spark, or semblance of romance as you look at each others wrinkled face? Will one look at the other in awe and still be able to say “i love you more now than the first time we met”?
Every Sunday, in mass, I always see this old couple together. I mean ancient old. It’s obvious though that the woman is younger than her husband. He can hardly sit-up straight and has a surgical mask on every time. They have a nurse that sits behind them too. The woman is pretty much active in mass— kneeling, praying, reading. But in between verses and prayers she tends to her husband. She fixes his shirt, holds his hands while she prays and even whispers to him if he’s ‘ok’. There’s so much devotion in her eyes and love as they clasp their hands together during mass. Kulang na lang may magsabi ‘psst bawal yan!’
It saddens me though to see how more frail-er the old man gets every week. Like I said, I see this old couple every Sunday. A few weeks back, he still could stand up (assisted by the woman). Now, he could hardly sit upright. I saw his nurse hold his shoulders at one point. It looked as if he dozed off for a while. Phew.
"How devastating…", I thought. Imagine choosing to love someone for that long and then… So fragile. One can only imagine what could happen in the next weeks. I dread the day I see the woman alone in mass.
But that got me thinking, ‘How lucky, still’. To have actually met that person you can spend the rest of your life with. I’ve heard all the vows in all of my friends weddings but I never really quite understood “in sickness and in health, til death do us part” until I saw that old couple again today. Still very much in love as the first time I saw them in church.
I pray I can be as lucky.
- Live like there’s no tomorrow. Love like it’s your last.
Women use social networks to connect with their friends, family and colleagues more than men, finds a new survey. Men, however, are more likely to use voice/phone communication than women. The survey, fielded by Rebtel, focused on expected future use of social media, social media consumption h…
I was about to sleep when the thought of meat pies popped in my head (yes, i dream about food.) Then I remembered Melbourne…
Hidden in the alleyways of Melbourne is this quaint store called Dinkum Pies. A pinoy can liken it to the local Turo-Turo; You simply point at what you want and they give it to you.
My parents and I got lost walking around the city and passed by this alley filled with local establishments. Needless to say, Dinkum wasn’t the most savory of them.
It looked old… run-down. In some way it looked dirty and dubious. In fact, my parents and I just ignored it thinking it was no good. But fate had another plan. My dad insisted on trying out the local pies. It was ‘innately’ Melbourne. Hungry as we were, we went to the nearest pie store we knew— Dinkum Pies.
As we got in line we looked around at all the little knick- knacks they had inside. They had a lot of vintage stuff which looked more “old” than they did “vintage”. The place looked unorganized but lo and behold, a pinay was present behind the counter. My mom immediately started a conversation.
"Masarap ba dito?" asked my mom.
"Ay, opo! Eto po yung paborito ng mga Australyano!"
My dad was too hungry to listen while I ADD’d by looking at what people ordered. Then I saw it. A sign.
Literally. It was a sign that was posted on the glass wall of Dinkum Pies. On a white bond paper, they printed the words “THE AGE Best pie in Melbourne 2010”.
My parents and I ended up eating at one of Melbourne’s best local pie place. Something you won’t see shared in tourist brochures. We ended up going there every chance we we’re in the city. It was real, warm, comfort food during winter in Australia.
That place was really something. There was something about the whole experience of eating your meal as a pie accompanied by this cleverly packaged tomato sauce. It was my Dayrit’s away from home. My comfort- food-guilty-pleasure-childhood-memory-kind-of- fun in Australia. And I do miss it terribly.