It was 6pm when the light's went off in the subdivision....
AHHHH!!!! BROWNOUT!!!!!!
We ate dinner early at around 6:30pm. After tidying up the table and the dishes, my mom and I decided to stay at the terrace where we chatted along with a neighbor.
With the issues that are presently at hand in the nation (with regards to the explosion), I never thought the conversation would shift from something tragic to something romantic....and God knows how I loved listening 'bout it.
From the bombing, to the terrorist, to the Muslims, to Muslim refugees during the Marcos regime, to the relief operation, to the flashback at the time when boy and girl meets at the Red Cross where they were both assigned for practicum. (huh! that was long....)
As the candle flickers my mom told me the story of she cross paths with a boy named JIMMY....
My mom was on her first month in Sorsogon for practicum while for Jimmy it his was the last month. My mom's first week in Sorsogon was settled for orientation. That time it seems that all places where she could be possibly assigned for the practicum was full, but not wanting to be assigned further more, and thankful luck was on her side, she was then assigned to Red Cross where her friends assured her that it was okay to be there for at least "Jimmy" was there.
Ah yes..."Jimmy" that nice guy who was also in practicum.
My mom and dad met on the my mom's second week of stay. It was very funny actually. My mom at that time didn't know that there were rules concerning cleaning the place. The first person to arrive cleans the office. The first one to arrive was a guy who happens to be the med tech. But since he was the one cleaning (the rule) they thought he was a janitor. Next came this man who was wearing a hard cap and a t-shirt, both printed with the red-cross logo. He was immediately told by the first guy that my mom and the girls she was with are there for practicum as well.
The second guy was an inglisero (English speaking). For this he was concluded as the boss of the office, which later on was found to be nothing more than to be also in practicum (Jimmy)....
Jimmy turned out to be really nice (very accommodating) , but alas was also very testing (as in testing the newcomers). For their first week at red cross, one by one, my mom's co nurses were invited to walk a very long distance from their red cross office to where the group were to go until Friday came and it was my mom's turn.
Hers turned out to be different though. Jimmy invited her to go on a relief operation in Barcelona, Sorsogon (please note that the setting is still in the Philippines). The relief operation were for the Muslim Refugees.
There was a time when I lost faith on something after all the doubts I'm having 'till when I heard this story.
Moving on....As they do their services in Barcelona, one of the refugees broke a large shell into half and gave each to Jimmy and my mom. When those around saw this they began to tell a certain belief that they were destined to be with each other for no matter how far their distances or as time passed by, the two halves of the shell will always find each other. After hearing that all my mom did was joked.
After more than two decades since they were given the shell, I now sit typing this story away, regaining faith that I may have my turn to find my own half of the shell who's other half belonging to someone....
After all, Jimmy is the man me and my siblings call "PA".....
Love you pa and ma!!!!mwah!!!!
AHHHH!!!! BROWNOUT!!!!!!
We ate dinner early at around 6:30pm. After tidying up the table and the dishes, my mom and I decided to stay at the terrace where we chatted along with a neighbor.
With the issues that are presently at hand in the nation (with regards to the explosion), I never thought the conversation would shift from something tragic to something romantic....and God knows how I loved listening 'bout it.
From the bombing, to the terrorist, to the Muslims, to Muslim refugees during the Marcos regime, to the relief operation, to the flashback at the time when boy and girl meets at the Red Cross where they were both assigned for practicum. (huh! that was long....)
As the candle flickers my mom told me the story of she cross paths with a boy named JIMMY....
My mom was on her first month in Sorsogon for practicum while for Jimmy it his was the last month. My mom's first week in Sorsogon was settled for orientation. That time it seems that all places where she could be possibly assigned for the practicum was full, but not wanting to be assigned further more, and thankful luck was on her side, she was then assigned to Red Cross where her friends assured her that it was okay to be there for at least "Jimmy" was there.
Ah yes..."Jimmy" that nice guy who was also in practicum.
My mom and dad met on the my mom's second week of stay. It was very funny actually. My mom at that time didn't know that there were rules concerning cleaning the place. The first person to arrive cleans the office. The first one to arrive was a guy who happens to be the med tech. But since he was the one cleaning (the rule) they thought he was a janitor. Next came this man who was wearing a hard cap and a t-shirt, both printed with the red-cross logo. He was immediately told by the first guy that my mom and the girls she was with are there for practicum as well.
The second guy was an inglisero (English speaking). For this he was concluded as the boss of the office, which later on was found to be nothing more than to be also in practicum (Jimmy)....
Jimmy turned out to be really nice (very accommodating) , but alas was also very testing (as in testing the newcomers). For their first week at red cross, one by one, my mom's co nurses were invited to walk a very long distance from their red cross office to where the group were to go until Friday came and it was my mom's turn.
Hers turned out to be different though. Jimmy invited her to go on a relief operation in Barcelona, Sorsogon (please note that the setting is still in the Philippines). The relief operation were for the Muslim Refugees.
There was a time when I lost faith on something after all the doubts I'm having 'till when I heard this story.
Moving on....As they do their services in Barcelona, one of the refugees broke a large shell into half and gave each to Jimmy and my mom. When those around saw this they began to tell a certain belief that they were destined to be with each other for no matter how far their distances or as time passed by, the two halves of the shell will always find each other. After hearing that all my mom did was joked.
After more than two decades since they were given the shell, I now sit typing this story away, regaining faith that I may have my turn to find my own half of the shell who's other half belonging to someone....
After all, Jimmy is the man me and my siblings call "PA".....
Love you pa and ma!!!!mwah!!!!
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