Conversation from the other side

It only took one look from him to make that conversation happen. Just one look; without hesitation I raised my thumbs up and ask if he is okay. He smirked, as if to signal not really. I reinforced my thumbs up by bringing in my right hand and showed two thumbs up. I then motioned, my palms facing down, as if saying, "relax, slow down, you are way too excited", and then I pulled my gaze away from him to the game, even if I didn't want to.

It probably didn't mean anything to him but to me, it was a moment to be treasured forever. No one from the other side has even bothered to look at us while we cheer for them. Not that I want them to, I was happy seeing everyone play. I appreciate the fact that they invited me to see them play and I feel that I had to be there being the first time that team played last year. I really feel like my presence was doing some service to their tired but satisfied legs from running and shooting those baskets. But his look made me feel like there is something worth looking forward to if he was not married.

Or he was probably just friendly. Enough Gail, enough.

A Journey back thirty years ago ( A first of many)

Every year, every time my birthday comes, there is the urge within me to summarize in different ways how my life has been, who I have become, what I done and accomplish within the last years. But always, I fail to do just that. I am hoping that this year would be different. Its the 24th of July, seven days late from the day I wanted to start writing about my 3 decades of living.

Thirty days is so short a time to tell a story about thirty years of living. Even the most prolific writers in their most inspired moments cannot put together words to describe a single moment of happiness, of sorrow, of triumph, of grief, of profound joy - what more of thirty years of such, what more for me? But the task though impossible is not something I would back out from. I really want to do this and though I cannot capture everything, before I reach my thirtieth year, I hope to at least put down in writing some of the most unforgettable so that when my memory ceases to work for me, I still have something to look back at.

So maybe I'll start with my gratitude.

To God, for my family,for my mom, my work, my life, my heartaches, my joys, my moments of mundane bliss, my loves, for the laughters, for the overwhelming tears and pains, for victories and defeats, for instances of confusion, for longer bouts of being lost, for fleeting moments of infatuation, for stupidities that could have been avoided, for times of contentment, for friends and friendships - found and lost, for periods of enlightenment, for dreams, for aspirations, for hope for better things to come, for salvation, for moments that I have taken for granted, for who I am and what I can do, for moments of brilliance and sometimes downright stupidities.

Words do not do justice to the gratitude in my heart and even if I live my life till the very end, it still would not be enough. So let me thank you every waking moment of life.

Let the hours live

Here are my thoughts in response to the entry posted by Ia on her blog:

Let me live every second of my life with purpose, with a song in my heart, with thanksgiving and delight. Just like that of a child, may I never run out of things to marvel at and may wonder never escape me.

Let me spend every moment loving everything and everyone I am surrounded with; may it be the bed I wake up from every morning or afternoon, or the smiles that I get from strangers or friends. May I always find the words to say my adoration and praise to God and find that even in my silences, I am never without nothing. For in my silence, I am one with Him.

May I find the little things in life to enhance every second of someone else's life worth living so that in the end even if I don't do things for myself, I still would have done something meaningful.