A Mother's Anguish

"Lorenzo... Lorenzo, listen to Mama. Can you hear me, my darling? If this is too much for you, my sweetheart,... well then you fly, you fly as fast as you can to baby Jesus. It's OK. Mama and Papa will be OK."

In this scene from the movie, "Lorenzo's Oil", Michaela (played by Susan Sarandon) cradles and rocks her son, Lorenzo, while the boy is screaming in a hospital ward from ... pain? frustration? the cold? ... It was a pivotal scene -- the point at which Michaela, who has thus far fought ferociously to protect her son(and herself) from the despair of people and doctors around her little boy, was ready to let him go. Not for her sake -- but to spare him from the pain and suffering brought by the disease that ravaged his body and his mind and that at every instant tore her heart.

I saw this movie long ago when I was single. There was nothing remarkable about it at the time. It had none of the elements that I then associated with a "good movie" (it starred neither gorgeous hunks nor glamorous leading ladies and had no heart-pounding action or suspense). I don't know why I watched it last night on HBO. I bawled like a baby. Practically at every scene. It was exhausting.

Maybe I am so moved by the story the second time around because I myself am a mother now. I now know the anguish every mother feels when her child is sick. I, too, will away my child's every cold, every bump, every tummy ache, and wish it upon myself. What mother has not?

Federer vs. Nadal Milestones

I thought I'd share some feats and milestones of the Federer-Nadal French Open Final match last Sunday. Just goes to show how truly awesome Federer is -- and how much Nadal took away... Boo hoo. This is, in some ways, the end of an era. Roger's loss ended his winning streak of 27 Grand Slam matches -- just 2 behind Roger Laver's 29! This is Roger's first defeat ever in a Grand Slam Final and he's been in 14 Finals from 2005. The last time he failed to make it to the finals -- the 2005 French Open -- where he lost to -- Nadal! Roger has had only 4 defeats in 2006 so far -- all to Nadal! Hmph ... this kid needs to be put in his place ... and soon!

See other milestones of this match.

My Onibs

I had an altogether too extensive encounter with Onib Olmedo's widow and daughter yesterday. It was my mom's birthday and, as she hosted lunch, we each took a crack at explaining why the painting Tita B brought to our house was a fake Onib. Yes, we knew him and his work. He was a good man and a great artist. My dad's best friend and best man at his wedding. I grew up with beautifully grotesque faces on the walls and lots of laughs from the man who invented "Aling Gulaman..." My sister and I each have an oil painting by him -- unfinished -- the paintings on his easels when he died in 96. They are both unsigned but in all respects, real Onibs -- in mood, and color, and emotion. I am thrilled to have sat for the portrait. It now hangs on my mom's new house in Las Pinas. In it, my eyes are glassy and tired, the expression almost sad -- I was then reviewing for the bar, needed sleep, and I wore glasses that day rather than my usual contact lenses and took them off when I sat for my portrait. He had tried afterwards to sketch eyeglasses over those tired eyes. It is amazing. I remember Daughter B saying that day as I was sitting for the portrait, before I got even my first glimpse of it, wag mo nang tignan -- pangit (Filipino for "ugly"). Meaning, it wasn't a glamour portrait. And it wasn't. My husband would later say the portrait doesn't look anything like me. Also meaning, I am pangit in it. But the portrait is beautiful because it captures how I felt that day. It is undeniably and wonderfully me.

In my own house (a small, 128 sq. m. flat my husband and I are leasing from my mother-in-law), 5 Onibs grace the walls. Two pastels on paper and 3 acrylics on t-shirts -- yes, t-shirts on which Onib playfully painted portraits of my dad and my mom (in all her akbtibista splendor -- complete with barbed wires and a poster? banner? truncheon? behind the kind face) and an unrecognizable creature with the words "Onib fan" merged into the painting. I assert that I am the Onib Fan. The painting isn't of me but as it is now mine, I choose to be it.

Roger succumbs once again to Rafa! And it hurts!

My first blog -- ever -- and I write bitterly disappointed. Not a good sign of things to come on this page. My man Federer got beaten (again!) last night by Roland Garros defending champion Rafael Nadal at the 2006 French Open. It would have been (as Vijay Armitraj says) "glorious" if Roger had won -- a 4th straight grand slam in a row -- all 4 grand slams in one (not calendar, though) year and miles ahead in the rankings from mortal men. He would have been undefeated in a grand slam final. But alas! My man Roger's backhand let us down. I must admit -- Rafa's smart, after all. Feeding Roger's backhand when it was acting up. Going strong on the topspin, taking advantage of the clay surface's ability to slow and send a ball off its anticipated course. Chasing after e-v-e-r-y ball. Roger was, sadly, outclassed yesterday.

After Roger breezed through the first set without seemingly breaking a sweat (he won the first set at 6-1, after racing to a 5-0 lead), he conceded a baseline call at 0-40 (breakpoint) and eventually lost that game. It was downhill from there. Rafa gave him a strong dose of his own medicine to win the second set at 1-6. Rafa broke Roger's serve early in the third and eventually won the set at 6-4. First game of the 4th and Roger got broken! It was an embarrassment, really. I saw but a glimmer of the magic that convinced me Roger's the best player that ever graced a tennis court. He struggled in his service games. Rafa dictated the pace of the rallies much of the way. A ray of hope on the 10th game of the 4th set when Rafa served for the match -- a precious, much-needed breakpoint won! But he couldn't convert with another break on the 12th and had to play a tiebreak -- I knew, then, the prospects weren't good. Rafa was pumped, man! And he need only consistently punish that errant backhand. Roger got a mini-break on the first point but was broken twice on his own serve at the next turn. End of story ...

Indesit still ranks my boy no. 1. But he's absolutely got to win Wimbledon or his confidence will be shot. My thinking is he's become Clijsters to Rafa's Henin-Hardenne. You know how Kim's game almost always seems to crumple when it's Justine opposite. Must - not - let - it - happen. We've got to cut down this 20-year-old before he runs off with titles off clay!

Roger, you're still my main man, of course. And I hope to see you "glorious" once again on the grass...