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Too Much Happiness? A Reminder from My Sister

  Too Much Happiness? A Reminder from My Sister My eldest living sister, Mely, is now 90 years old. At every family gathering, when there’s too much laughter and joy, she would quietly remind us: "Eko masyadung matula”   It always makes us pause. It may sound like an old superstition, but she truly believes it. For her, too much happiness might bring the opposite—tears or misfortune. This belief comes from the older Filipino generation, especially in the provinces. Life back then was harder, so they learned not to celebrate too loudly or too long. Maybe it was their way of protecting themselves from disappointment. At first, I found it too cautious. But over time, I’ve come to understand her point. It’s not really about being afraid to be happy. It’s about being thankful, humble, and aware that life always has ups and downs. Now, whenever we’re all laughing and enjoying each other’s company, I still hear her voice in my head. And instead of feeling afraid, I just sm...
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  FAMILY Yesterday, my daughter Dang flew back to Canberra after staying with us for three weeks here in our home in Las Piñas. A week before that, her sister Nina also went back to Canberra. Just like that, our short but meaningful family reunion came to an end. After almost three years, our whole family was complete again—my wife Cynthia and I, our two sons Allen and Paolo, and our two daughters. Now that our children are grown up and living their own lives, reunions like this don’t happen often. That’s why when they do, they feel extra special and something we are truly thankful for. As parents in our mid-seventies, the time we spend with our children becomes more valuable. We know they now have their own responsibilities, work, and plans. When they were younger, it was us, the parents, who paid for everything. But now, the roles have somehow changed. They’re the ones treating us and organizing activities. It’s heartwarming to see them give back, not just through gifts, but w...
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Father's Day

This Father’s Day, I’ve been reflecting on something quite moving: even Jesus, the Son of God, humbled Himself and obeyed Joseph—His earthly father, a mere creature like all of us. It struck me that our fathers, like Joseph, are imperfect men. They may falter, they may not always get it right, but that doesn’t mean they’re unworthy of our love or even our obedience at times. We honor them not because they are flawless, but because of who they are in our lives—fathers given to us, to guide, protect, and love in the best way they know how. I cannot help but remember my late father, Cornelio. He was, to some extent, a stern man—not showy with his affection—but he was deeply a family man. Responsible, a good provider, and a respectable gentleman. I was truly blessed that he showered us with great love, even if it was quiet and steady rather than loud and demonstrative. My only hope is that I was able to reciprocate that love in return. To those who greeted me and all fathers with a “Happ...
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 I decided to start this blog not because I have all the answers, but because I have many stories, thoughts, and reflections that don’t always fit into neat categories. Life, after all, is made up of little moments — between the lines of routine and ritual, of silence and conversation, of service and solitude. This blog is my *Etcetera* — my place for everything else:   the things I think about,   the people I admire,   the places I go,   the questions I ask. I hope you find something here that makes you pause, smile, or think a little deeper.
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