The Story of My Birth

Every once in a while, my mother tells others (while I'm around) the story of her experience of giving birth to me. It's a different experience listening to my mom tell the story but I suppose it's worth relating it in digital form.

I'm the youngest of five so she had four deliveries before me. But I was her sixth pregnancy. The fifth child was miscarried.

(That's a story in itself. They lived in U.P. It was 1971 or 1972. My mother was on her way home from work as a principal. The jeep couldn't enter U.P. because there was a protest at Quezon Hall. So Mama had to walk from Philcoa to our house which was way past where the U.P. post office is now. By the time she got home, she had to be rushed to the hospital but they had a hard time going through because there were several checkpoints. So she had a miscarriage. Footnote: the baby's name was Lillibeth).

One or two years later, I came along and by then, the streets were calm, martial law was in full effect.

But compared to her four previous deliveries, mine was different and my mom likes to remind me of everything she went through for me :-)

All her previous successful deliveries were natural births. No epidural. You see, my mom has this strange condition which makes her over-react to any medication (the only thing she tolerates is paracetamol. Considering that more than 15 years ago she was diagnosed with stage III colon cancer, it's a miracle she's still alive and approaching seventy-five. She attributes it all to faith).

She dealt with the pain by singing religious songs at full voice while undergoing labor. And she bargained with God that at least one of her children would become a priest or a nun. (That didn't happen. So now she's sponsoring seminarians. Hahaha).

Everything went well with the first four successful deliveries (come to think of it, my mother never told stories about their deliveries).

And then I came along.

I came out as an 8 lb baby. My mother back then was reed thin (imagine a 5 foot version of me carrying an 8 lb baby) so she must have had a difficult pregnancy.

And I was overdue. And I was in the wrong position (feet first) but since the doctor noticed I was moving around, he opted to wait until I corrected myself.

True enough, after a while, I made the turn and my head was where it should be. But when they were about to get me out of there, I continued on my journey and went back to the feet first position.

The doctor decided to wait again. And pretty soon, I was turning again and got into position but after a while, I turned again and was feet first yet again.

Seeing that my mother was getting weak (and maybe her singing was not full voice anymore), the doctor asked for permission to do a C-section. My mother protested and was shouting "Don't put me under, don't put me under..." and fell asleep because they had put the mask on her.
And so I came out and I suppose I was crying but the doctor spanked me anyway :-)

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It seems a little strange relating this story as my birthday approaches. Stories of a child's birth, I suppose, are on the minds of parents as their child's birthday approaches. But most parents, myself included, tell these stories to themselves and do not share it with others (have I ever told anyone, for example, that when sinta was born, I was in a t-shirt and rubber shoes and had no idea that was the day she would be born...)

I don't know of many birthday parties where the story of a celebrant's birth is the topic of conversation.

But if we come to think about it, there is one child's birth whose story is re-told every year at advent and at christmas time. Certainly, it was a momentous event worth recalling. God become man.

But I remember wondering, many, many years ago, how Jesus celebrated his birthday. I suppose if Mary were around, she would tell stories of the census and the manger (I wonder if she'd get into the part about the shepherds). But I suppose that would be a moment and the moment would pass and they'd move on to other topics of conversation.

I wonder, in particular, how Jesus celebrated his birthday with his apostles, his traveling crew.
Maybe Mary was with them and she would tell her story (or maybe not) but maybe the stories would also be about how he met each one of them, what they had for his birthday last year and where they were and where they had been this year and the things they saw. Those would be the stories, not of birth, but of lived life.

I remember wondering many, many years ago how the apostles celebrated Jesus' birthday after he had ascended. I'm sure that during his birthday, they'd all get together and celebrate. Then, they would tell their favorite Jesus story and since he had already resurrected, they would be happy stories or stories of grace and enlightenment. Or maybe they would ask, as we ask now, in the face of all their troubles, what would Jesus do or what would Jesus say? It would be a celebration of the life of an adult (and not really a baby) Jesus.

I remember thinking many, many years ago that we do celebrate Jesus' birth differently by always looking at his birth instead of celebrating the presence of someone who is 2009 years old, give or take, who promised to be with us until the end of time.

That promise, Jesus, is birthday gift enough for me.

Maybe the Old Songs

On uploading songs to my Ipod and God finding us through pop songs.

Maybe the old songs
Will bring back the old times
Maybe the old lines
Will sound new

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I've been busy uploading songs in the ipod my wife gave me (so much for dissertation!). I'm up to 346 songs and counting. Hahaha. I must still have around 150 more in a list I created. (The major contributors left to be uploaded are Nat King Cole, Matt Monro, Dionne Warwick, Broadway, Phil Collins and a number of loose songs, some fun like Electric Dreams and Theme from "The Greatest American Hero")

I think I'll end up with a collection a lot of parents (both of the standards-filled post World War II era and the 60's/70's) would love. Christmas idea, anyone? Just raid my playlist which I might make available via Facebook.

Several years ago, I made a tape compilation of oldies and gave it as a gift to co-workers at Ateneo. I think that was in 1998. One oldie and her husband really loved my gift. Because I made them happy then, I'm thinking of giving them another one next year even if I don't work with them anymore and I'm not particularly close to them. Always nice to make people giddily happy. Who knows, maybe I made their marriage romantic for many nights thereafter. hahaha

Yesterday, as I was about to sleep, the ipod shuffled on over to Barry Manilow's "The Old Songs" (Is it old enough for my students not to know it :-)? And I ended up saying to myself, ya, the old songs. Old because they are really old. I'm hard pressed to think of a song that's recent. (Sting would probably be the most familiar to my students today. They probably even associate McCartney with The Beatles and not as a solo artist).

But also old because they are the songs of my yesterdays. Songs I grew up with in Bangkok with my father. Nat King Cole, How much is that Doggie in the Window? (hahaha), The Platters, etc. Songs I grew up on in Manila with my brothers and sisters (Eagles, America, Barry Manilow, etc.)

For those of you who don't know the song, it's about a guy who's about to have dinner with what I assume is an ex or estranged lover ("and soon she'll be by, hope and pray she'll say that she's willing to give us another try... it's been too long since I've seen her face light up when I come in, it's been too many hours I've wasted staring at the phone).

And the guy has laid out the works to try to win her back (Candles burning, glass are chilled) But he has a contingency plan. He says, "And if all the plans I made don't melt the lady's heart, I'll put on the old 45" (45: small long-playing record. hahaha. funny how I feel I have to explain myself)

Then the chorus: "Maybe the old songs will bring back the old times, maybe the old lines will sound new. Maybe she'll lay her head on my shoulder. Maybe old feelings will come through. Maybe we'll start to cry and wonder why we ever walked away. Maybe the old songs will bring back the old times and make her want to stay".

Last night, before I slept, I was thinking, this seems to be an appropriate "God song". The God story could be that there's this girl (sorry girls, "she" and "her" kasi yung kanta) who has moved away from God, probably more along the lines of indifference rather than rebellion. But there is an opportunity for God to reach out to this girl. Maybe she's going on retreat or to a recollection. Or maybe she's visiting a chapel. Or maybe she's having a quiet moment. Or maybe she's reading a blog.

And God is thinking, okay, I've laid out everything to take advantage of this rare opportunity when I'll be with this girl. But if all else fails, maybe the old songs will bring back the old times, maybe the old lines will sound new. Maybe she'll lay her head on my shoulder, maybe old feelings will come through. Maybe we'll start to cry and wonder why we ever walked away. Maybe the old songs will bring back the old times and make her want to stay.

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In Ignatian prayer, we are taught to use whatever helps to bring us closer to God, even pop songs. I think it is true of our God. He uses whatever helps to bring us closer to him. Maybe the old songs will bring back the old times and make us want to stay.

Happy New Year everyone!

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The Old Songs
Barry Manilow


Candles burning
Glasses are chilled and soon
She'll be by
Hope and pray She'll
say that she's willing to give us
Another try

And if all those plans I've made
Don't melt the lady's heart
I'll put on the old 45's

And maybe the old songs
Will bring back the old times
Maybe the old lines
Will sound new
Maybe she'll lay her
Head on my shoulder
Maybe old feelings
Will come through

Maybe we'll start to cry
And wonder why
We ever walked away
Maybe the old songs
Will bring back the old times
And make her want to stay

It's been too long since I've
Seen her face light up
When I come home
It's been too many Hours
I've wasted staring
At the phone

Sweet old songs I'm counting on you
To bring her back to me
I'm tired of listening alone

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P.S. I hope you know or are able to listen to the song. It's really nice.