Friday blackness. That is how it is this very moment. Interstate 90 looks like one of those highways in horror movies where creatures drop dead from the skies and into your windshield. The absence of ...
I thought it would be timely to write about death. A lot of crying has been covered lately on TV and prints for the death of over thirty students at Virginia Tech. In the Philippines, the list of jour...
What’s wrong with him? What’s with that slight cacophony in the way he moves nowadays? Every day, he senses a lovey-dovey cadence of delight he only felt in the comfort of a swing in the b...
Living isn’t fair. The past ten months in Brookings had been a continual tussle of having faith and not having faith – a fluctuation that, in most instances, opted to stop on the former. Lately, howev...
In less than two weeks time, it will be Christmas day. While I contemplate the birth of Jesus, I am also enormously grateful to God for bestowing a precious gift – a writing ability that I conti...
November 30 is the day I turn a year older. It is the best time for reminiscing about sweet memories of the year before, musing on all things that have been left undone, reflecting on friends who, in ...
Online, I thought she is as old as my mom. Truly. That explains why I always addressed her as Ma’am or Madame and never by her name. However, the first time I met her in Michigan barely a week a...
The Philippine-American Picnic in South Dakota could be traced back to 1981, when it began as a small group of 40. After 26 years, the annual tradition has grown eight times bigger and happier. Tina K...