If Patience is measurable, then

..
February 5, 2006
Sunday

"Pa, kakain na 'ho."

"Ayaw ko!"

"Pa, kelangan n'yong kumain. Sige na, para sa inyo rin 'yan."

"Sinabi nang ayaw ko e! Wag mo nga akong pakialaman."

"Pa, kakain na ho."

"Ano ba! Pabayaan mo na lang akong matulog."

"Hindi ho p'wede. Dapat kayong kumain kahit konti lang."

"P'tang inang buhay 'to! Patayin mo na lang ako! Hindi mo ko mapipilit."

"Pa, kakain na ho."

"Nagsisisi ako at pinapunta pa kita rito sa Canada. Wala kang utang na loob. Pabayaan mo 'ko sa gusto ko! Ba't mo ba 'ko pinakikialaman. Kundi dahil sa 'kin, hindi ka makakapunta ng Canada. Pinag-aral ko kayong magkakapatid. Pinagamot kita nu'ng nagkasakit ka. Mali ako na pinapunta pa kita rito."

"Pa, alalahanin n'yo, tao rin lang ako...nauubos rin ang pasens'ya ko...konti na lang, patid na ko. Wag n'yo ubusin ang pasens'ya ko... Kumain na kayo...."

How many men can expose to the world at large their ugliest, weakest, and most fragile state? Boys don't cry? Perhaps. But don't tell me men do not, for I do.

If Patience (P) is measurable and, say, My Total Patience (MTP) is set to, of course, 100 %, then My Current Patience (MCP) is running low = 10 %. Therefore, I hope that this remaining iota of MCP can still get me through the rest of the waiting process for my immigrant visa.

==

I'm scheduled to have my x-ray examination on February 16, as a requirement for my application for permanent-resident status. If the result is favorable (please, Deity of Hope, make it so!), Immigration will grant me an immigrant visa in April or May. This means that I will no longer be contracted as Grandfather's live-in caregiver. It means that I will then be able to pursue whatever career I choose. I will no longer be a prisoner of the house. My hands will no longer be bound with those of Grandfather's. I can now move on with my own life...the Life I offered...the Life they curtailed...a new, good life I have been looking forward to since the day, in 2003, I left my homeland. A better life I believe I deserve. The Life I will finally reclaim!

==

What will happen to Grandfather then, in case he's still alive when long-awaited Freedom arrives?

In mathematical parlance, I'm a believer of estimation, rounding-off, infinity, etc. To me, nothing is exact; no one remains the same from birth to death; no thing is left unchanged from creation to destruction. Parallel lines are parallel only in short distances. But, only one thing is sure.

Grandfather will go to a nursing home. Why? Simple. No one can ever replace me, considering all the factors that have surrounded my situation. No one will give up his job or her schooling OR his Freedom just to stay in the house and take care of a stubborn and pesky 90-year-old elderly virtually twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week...without salary nor regular allowance nor words of appreciation, consolation, or endearment.

Why not employ a daytime home-care attendant then?

Cannot be.

Who will replace the home-care attendant during nighttime? Who will stay awake practically the entire wee hours to accompany the old man to the washroom or just to check once in a while if he is still breathing or already as stiff as a pepperoni stick? Who will take all the old man's swords and stabs of hatred and resentment? Who will suffer the curse of having to stay almost wherever and whenever the old man stays?

==

Where's my conscience?

I don't deserve to be asked with this question.

I have been carrying the burden of having to take care of Grandfather for two years and six months now. Gratis! Is this not enough? Will I be buried eternally in the so-called debt of gratitude? What then of my sacrifices? my pains? heartaches?

==

I hope all of you will forgive me for I have lied.

I have to confess something serious.

I am not really an eLf. I am also a human like all of you. So, I too lose patience. I too get angry. I too keep ill feelings. I too utter curse words. I too cry and despair. And I too can leave a mess and move on with my own life without considering what other people will say of my decisions.

==

What then of Grandfather?

I no longer care what happens next. Really. By then, I will have done my part...my unfair share.

I am just a grandson--only one of Grandfather's twenty-two grandsons.

I now leave Grandfather's fate to his children--Tito Jun and Tito Bobby in California, Tita Mely in British Columbia, my mother in the Philippines, Tito Renyboy and Tito Gerry here in Manitoba.

I am not a hero. I am not a saint. I am not a savior. I am not (yet) immortal. In fact, as I confessed, I am not an eLf.

I am just a grandson who made a deal--take care of Grandfather for two years in exchange of a better life afterwards. Or, in the words of a dear friend: "Eat shit now, taste the candy later."

And the end of the deal is near. I will no longer detail who gave more and who gave less.

The important part is, I will have soon fulfilled my part of the deal. I will have done my part, regardless if I gave less or more.

==

Where's my conscience?

I will repeat, please don't ask me that question. I don't deserve it.

==

I love to see what Grandfather's children will do when I'm gone, what their plan for him would be.

As for me, I have new plans of my own. I have better things to do...this time, for me and only myself.

==

Where's my conscience?

Please! I said don't ask me that question.

MCP is running low.