Amuma, Vicita Iglesias

I was depressed, impressed, enlightened, and pleased in a one of a kind journey. Maundy Thursday it was when I did it with people whom I have something in common—an experience with the struggle against cancer, whose group is aptly called Amuma.

Every Lent, this group goes on a pilgrimage around the city, visiting cancer warriors and survivors. Vicita Iglesias cum Station of the Cross. We visit at least fourteen houses—Iglesias—where we do the rites of each of the fourteen stations of the Cross.

It has been one of the most meaningful Lenten activities I’ve undergone.

Depressing was the sight of cancer patients who seem to be stuck in bed courtesy of this disease called cancer, and the pain their loved ones obviously felt. Yet inspiring was the spark in their eyes when they saw that some people know, experience and care about their plight. Impressive was the strength both patients and caregivers demonstrate as they battle the menace. And, enlightening was their advice on the diet, lifestyle, and attitude to avoid and fight the affliction.

We visited seventeen houses, and as many cancer survivors or warriors. They were of different ages—ranging from eight to seventy-three. They were of different occupations—student, retiree, single parent, pastor, teacher. They were of different religion—Catholic, non-Catholic Christian, Seventh Day Adventist. They were of different situations—there were those who had every treatment available, those who have limited resources, and those who were not able to avail of any treatment at all because of financial restrictions.

Such differences, however, barely meant anything, because we were linked by one bond—cancer. We fight the same battle. We are in the same ring.

This journey—my second in a row—made me see cancer struggle in a new light. It made me realize this affliction is not all bad. One good I saw: I have found new friends—ones who understand my and my family’s struggles, ones who could be ears when I need someone to listen to my griping and whining, ones with whom I could laugh at some petty things, little achievements and progress we have made in our struggle. We are not alone in this journey. There are quite a number of us. Not that I am grateful that many have been afflicted by the disease. It is that there are people I know I could count on whenever I need them. And it is always good to know somebody’s got your back.

More than that, it made me see pain in another angle. That it is a sharing of Jesus’ cross—just like Simon of Cyrene. And to cling to God alone, for after all, it is hope that would make all this lighter.

Remembering Francis

Francis is dead!

I learned about it only last night, and it kinda surprised me to have felt this affected. I mean he didn’t know me and I didn’t know him. He’s just an actor I used to see every noon at Eat Bulaga. I saw him in Bagets. I knew his “Mga Kababayan by heart even after 19 years. While the tv revealed his death, a Francis doing a running man played in my mind. I was an admirer. I still am. But I also admired Marky Cielo and Fernando Poe Jr. but the news about each of these celebrities’ death did not bother me as much as Francis’ death did.

I was not a fan. But I have always admired Francis Magalona. He’s a really good musician. I love his compositions—always deep in meaning: touching on the core of humanity, prompting one to get up and act and be proud of being a Filipino.

I watched Eat Bulaga’s tribute to the Master Rapper. I saw how Francis touched these kids. Even Humanap ka ng Pangit Rapper was trying to lighten and liven the mood, something which, I felt Francis would have appreciated; the general atmosphere was that of a trying-to-be-happy party.

And then I saw and listened to Ricky Lo’s interview with Pia and the kids. And Ricky Lo was asking a question whether Pia saw it coming. And her answer was kind of familiar. And she said something like, “The first time, akala ko, iyun na. Baka hindi na kami makakalabas. The second time, akala ko, ito na. After that, nasanay na kami na ganun, hindi ko na inisip na baka nga yun na. So talagang mapagbiro yong panahon.”

It was Katkat’s experience all over again. Pia was describing exactly our experiences with Katkat, who had a kiddie version of Francis’ AML. I guess that’s why I was so affected by the rapper’s passing. His family and ours are bound by the same experience of struggle, loss, and moving on.

Besides, losing a beloved is something everyone of us share in common. I know, in time, his family will be healed. For after all, all this will pass. Though how long it would take to heal, no one can tell. Somehow, I still have to heal from my loss.

Again, I pray this for Francis M. and his family:

Oh, Jesus, bless them, help them, heal them.

Amen.