Honoring ... Appreciating life

Friends have asked me, " Is it hard to be married to a cop?" To answer, I guess I have to say YES and NO. I really haven't known anything else other than to be married to a cop. There is the obvious: his job is dangerous. The other obvious (that has become more recently) is that the community doesn't value his job. I mean, or course people VALUE it, especially if they've been robbed, if there is an accident, or if something is missing. What I mean is that part where people want police services, they just aren't willing to pay any extra taxes to secure the protections or services. But hey, that's a whole other blog.

I guess that I define it a little differently. You see, I'm married to this great guy who happens to be an officer for his job. The part that is hard about it is that he and his job are hard to separate from each other. Being a teacher, I can have a tough day at work and by the time I get home, I can shake almost anything off. For him, a bad day at work literally can affect life. This difference is the reason why there really are heroes that live among us.



I had the privilege of accompanying hubby to CHRISTOPHER WILSON's funeral recently. Chris was a San Diego Police officer that was shot in the line of duty by someone not worth mentioning here. Hubby, being on the Honor Guard, has been to many police officers' funerals and would often tell me about it. But it wasn't until I saw with my own two eyes that I've come to understand what it means when the law enforcement community supports each other.

I walked into The Rock Church with the expectation that I would find Hubby right away. It is usually easy because he stands with such pride. What I met was a foyer filled with law enforcement officers from dozens of different agencies all over the nation, standing with the same pride and dignity that I have grown accustom to expecting from my other half.

During the 3 hour service, there were more than 10 speakers that shared funny, heartwarming stories and memories of the fallen officer. Even the Governator spoke to pay condolences to Officer Wilson's family and the City of San Diego as a whole.



Hearing the Governor, the Chief of Police and the Mayor of San Diego all share their thoughts was amazing, but the part that was overwhelming emotional was another officer that spoke. He was the last to speak (before the family) and shared his story with the thousands and thousands that attended the service. He was hurt in the line of duty a few years ago; a shot that left him paralyzed from the neck down. He shared his story of depression and sadness, as he was very young when the shooting took place. He then shared how Chris helped him through the darkest time of his life. Through their friendship, Chris was able to help him mentally, physically and emotionally to overcome demons that could have taken his life. After he spoke, the entire assembly stood and applauded this man, as another officer ( who had held the microphone for him as he spoke) wheeled him off the stage and down the ramp to join the others proudly dressed in the SDPD uniform.

The ceremony ended with all the uniformed officers standing at attention in the hot San Diego sun as the SDPD honor guard did the 21 gun salute, Amazing Grace was played on the bagpipes, and a sole trumpet player played TAPS.



I don't know if there are other professions that are (should be) appreciated and recognized as widely as a police officer. I do know this: I am proud to be married to one. And I will continue to share him with our community as long as he wants to be a cop because what he does for our family, our community, our sons is important.

Hawai'i: My journey to a heavier me

My top 5 for 5. (Meaning : 5 reasons why I'm 5 pounds heavier)
To commemorate the increase in weight, I would like to offer my top 5 culinary adventures in Honolulu.

#5 - The Market Place in China Town.
Although we didn't actually consume any food at the market place, Chinatown offers every fruit and veggie you can think of that might exist. While walking, Kuya and I talked of a fruit that we once had in the Philippines (same size as kalmansi, green skin, clear on the inside.) Unfortunately, we couldn't find it and mom, dad, and sis had no idea what it was that we were talking about. SO, it seems that Kuya and I made the whole thing up.



#4 - Walking Distance and in view
Ihop attracts all the tourists within walking distance of the hotels. Smart marketing.


This particular morning, I opted for a spinach and tomato omelet, you know, cuz you can't get that on the mainland.


Although it was an extremely busy visit, sis and I did find one small window of time to sink our feet into the sand in front of the Sheraton a little bit of time one afternoon. 80 degrees, warm sand, an iced vanilla latte with my sister. Doesn't get much better than that. To top it off, we ran across a Yardhouse walking back to the hotel, so - of course- we stopped to have a drink and some delicious appetizers. Note to self: the words 'Fresh Fish' mean something completely different on an island. Ono-licious!


#3 - The Karaoke Bar and other stuff my family kept bringing around
At the funeral home, there was a room dedicated for refreshments. Of course, my family turned it into a party room. Pancit, desserts, coffee, tea, juice, running around, loud talking, laughter... it was like Uncle was alive and celebrating with all of us. The Hawaiians turned a funeral into a true celebration of life to remember a wonderful man. I guess that is the true tribute to a man. After all, aren't we defined by what we leave behind?




Then there was the karaoke bar. I swear, if I were a smart woman, I would open on of these bad boys in San Diego. I'm not talking about the cheesy ones you see in Clariemont. I'm talking about a beautifully decorated, warm, and comfortable place for families to assemble and be together. This particular joint provided coolers, tables, and ice. The family did the rest. Homemade spam musubi, ahi and other delicious sashimi, cupcakes, rice, skewers... The only regret I have from this is that I was so darn full from lunch that I didn't feel like I got a chance to take full advantage of the food. Luckily, the family offered for us to take the musubi back with us to the hotel...no need to stuff it all in the purse.



Then there was the restaurant. Nine courses (might be 8 or 10 actually, I stopped counting after the roast duck showed up) We had just come from the military ceremony at the cemetery. Since it was a private burial, the best idea was to - surprise, surprise - grab a bite to eat.

I wanted to stop eating, but I'm only human. It was "authentic" Chinese food. And, man oh man, oh so good.

#2 - The Rare Buffet

Kuya said that it isn't smart for Hawaiians to open buffets. This is because food is such a staple in culture for the islanders. Plus, buffets would lose money.

We did take a morning stroll to the Hale Koa Hotel,as the breakfast buffet there is rumored to be one of the best. Since we woke up every morning at 5 am, we took our time walking around Waikiki to make it to the hotel.



We ate at a table overlooking the beach on an outdoor patio. What a lovely morning spent with my family.

#1 - Zippy's.
OK, ok. I know it is the equivalent of Denny's, but it is open 24 hours and you can have anything you like at any time of the day. There are three wonderful parts: a fast food option (think: Panda Express), a bakery, and a full restaurant. We took advantage twice because you can't just go once.



Before the funeral, we walked across the street to enjoy breakfast. Sis and I are smart ones... we each order a meal and swap halfway. That way, you get to have more than one entree. The problem is, halfway through my loco moco, I didn't want to trade. The swap was worth it ... the banana pancakes were perfect.

Upon arriving in Honolulu, the family met us at the Alamo rental place and we went directly to Zippy's down the street. I had the saimin and Sis ordered the Korean chicken. I would go back again just to have a spoon full of that chicken.


And there you have it. Too much eating. But here's the glorious part about it. At the end of the day, I will lose the 5 pounds (or maybe not) but I will never lose the memories that I made with my family. That's living.

The 11th hour

I remember knowing at a young age that my family was different that most of the families of friends at school. I didn't know why at the time, all I knew is that my friends' families looked like the families on TV and in the movies, whereas my family was different. We ate rice at every meal and had family "get togethers" that consisted of tons of food and lots of "uncles" and "aunties." I remember that my Grandma and Grandpa lived with us and we took care of each other. The house was always really, really loud. There were always people coming by to stay an hour, or a few months. Growing up, I lived with dad's family, mom's family, cousins, friends, "aunts" and "uncles" from the Philippines. The "traditional" family dinner - where mom, dad, and children sit at a table and talk about their days at work and school - were as foreign to me as, well, other stuff that friends' families engaged in daily. Our dinners involved grabbing a plate, finding a place to sit (if you were fast enough to get a chair) and after the meal, running and playing with cousins. It wasn't until middle school that I realized that not everyone rolled like my family.


When my high school years came around, all I wanted was to fit in and be like my friends. I didn't understand why it was so different.

Now as an adult, I understand.

I just returned from a 4 day trip with mom, dad, and sissy for a very bitter sweet family reunion in Hawaii. Uncle Sam, dad's brother, passed away in Alaska this month and his wife, seven children and their families decided that the most appropriate resting place would be the place they considered home. So, we all dropped the daily things (work, responsibilities, commitments, projects, etc.) and hopped on an airplane to be with our family.


For four days, my nuclear family and I engaged in too much eating, not enough sleeping, some crying, and belly busting laughter. And, it was a reminder of the lessons that I think I've known and learned though the most non traditional means: Family is first. I missed my husband. I missed my children. I even missed my students and some close friends. But I have grown to better understand what my world is really about and what matters most. A grown up "time out" to focus on family that I only see in times of emergency has given me a more clear path of where I am going with my own family.

Cousin Tom read the eulogy at Uncle's funeral. There was a tiny mention of what Uncle did for work and a bit on where he was born. But the overlaying theme revolved around FAMILY. Love for his family. Taking care of his family. What he did to, with and for his family throughout his lifetime. When he got sick, it was family that took care of him. Family that brought him peace. And when he passed, it was family that washed his body and shaved his face. It was family that laughed through tear filled eyes about the memories that had created together throughout the years. And it was family that joined together to remember a man that loved his family more than anything else.

So, it has been more than a week since I've graded papers or cleared off the top of my desk at school. I briefly opened my work email, only to see 50+ emails and log right back off. I have a luggage full of laundry for this weekend, and I better be quick in intercepting the credit card statements before hubby in the next few days. ( There was a Louis Vuitton store next to the hotel.) But in the big scheme of things, none of that really matters.


I want my children to learn that family matters most. Of course clean clothing is important and eating healthy meals (including the vegetables) are healthy choices. But at my 11th hour, I want someone to remember me for the mother, wife, friend I am today. And the person that I want to be for my children. I want to be remembered for the things I did with, to and for my family. I want the boys to learn about life by running around with their cousins and eating dinner together...if they are fast enough to get a seat at the table. I want family to be the theme.

Just like Uncle Sam.