Luglug, Ludalod...

9/10/2016

Luglug, Ludalod my child.
Play with water and tumble in dirt.
Wet clothes can dry and dirty clothes can be washed.
Messy hands can be cleaned and you can clothe yourself in endless soap suds while you gleam.

Go anak... make a splash from that puddle of rain.
Catch those raindrops with your cupped little hands.
Make mountains and balls from sand & mud.
Build towers & fortresses with rocks, stones, and sticks.
Pretend they're all jewels from a distant moon or fallen stars from the sky.

Eye to Eye

I do not anymore define success by means of a degree or a profession or my earning or other accomplishments to be rewarded of.

Right now, the feeling of triumph occurs when my kid is able to finish his meal without a negotiation, or take a nap without a fight, or go through a day without a tantrum.

These are my daily successes now:

To cook his meal while he's asleep;
To do the laundry without him pulling the cords and clothes' line;
To wash the dishes without him flooding the kitchen floor;
To bake & frost a cake without his hand on the flour or the cream; and
To deliver orders with him on one arm and a cake on the other...

Where is Hell?...

                                                             

In homes,

     where families fight and kill each other
     where husbands & wives blame each other
     where children are yelled at & ignored
     where abuse happens in the darkest corners of the house & a child is sworn into agonizing secrecy...

In hospitals,
     where the sick struggle to survive
     where babies beg for their lives
     where the dying hope for light in their next life...

In wars,
     where innocents are raped & burned alive
     where soldiers, rebels, and terrorists accuse each other as enemies
     where lifeless bodies are scattered along the streets and underneath the rubble...