Papa

It's been a while, what...three years?

I'm not sure if i'd make it to heaven... but if i'm refused entry, i guess we can meet up in a bar somewhere next to the gate and catch up on old times over a few bottles of San Mig.

I miss you dad. Happy fathers' day.

Bryan Anthony

5 PM

5:00 p.m.’s are everyday to anyone as it is to me, but not today…

what and why port moresby’s cold june wind brought breeze of nostalgia, i do not know…

my late father seldom made it home at 5:00 p.m.

his showing-up on time is always a special occasion

for me it’s an answered prayer. it is.

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papa IS the best cook in the world. although help was always around to prepare dinner, consistently, he does all the cooking every time he’s home by 5:00… making such days so special.

i never grew out of these 5:00 o’clock’s:

us siblings shove ourselves on the passenger seats, thrilled for that special trip to the market.

trips that make my day perfect no matter how fucked-up the rest of it was.

i would trade a day of waking life for another 5:00 o’clock with papa…one is to one...

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papa always reminded us of two things every time we take these trips:

(1) a good cook buys the ingredients himself &

(2) only lazy people can’t cook.


this is not my fathers’ day blog.

Merry Christmas of 2004

“Merry Christmas my dearest Bryan, although I did not expect you to be back in my life, much less hope you’d be with me again…and talking, laughing and spending time with you, at that moment was way out of mind. But…that night when you texted [sic] me, … that night when I called you twice and finally talked to you…that moment for me was no less than perfect. It’s one of the moments in my life that I’ll never forget. The timing was perfect. The FEELING was perfect. I couldn’t ask for anything more. For what it’s worth, I smiled the whole night after that, and I don’t know why. I just closed my eyes and it felt good. So needless to say, I gave it another chance and one thing led to another, I knew it…I knew it that I love you.

You take care of me, treat me extra special, and you make me laugh… A LOT.

Going thru all this trouble for you is nothing simply because I love you. I know you know what I mean. I love you so much.

Of course its difficult, even hard at times not being able to spend time with you. Everyday without you is such a ++++. So all I can do sometimes is fantasize about you. Parang yung kanta ng The Platters ba yun? Whenever I want you, all I have to do is …dream… dream, dream, dream.

Kasi I know when we finally are together again, pag yakap na kita ulit… everything will be perfect again. Nothing else will matter for a while.

Yung moments na nag la-last forever ika nga, kasi nagmamahalan tayo eh.

We have everything anyone can hope for; someone to love and that someone loving them back.

I await for that day my love!

Take great care of yourself for me, please.

I love you so much.

Have a very happy Christmas.

Can’t wait for you to come home soon.

Always,
++++”

--GREAT MY BREAST LID (an anagram)

This letter is reprinted with the knowledge and permission of the author

Mama Day

Mama,

There'll never be a woman like you in my life.

I love you ma.

Bryan Stars



"A mother is a mother still, The holiest thing alive."

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Fucking River

Rivers shocked the Logies audience when she said "I don't know why the fuck I'm here.”
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How can a 72-year old woman make you laugh? She has to be Joan Rivers, period.

Half-sober Rivers presented an award at the Logies (the Australian equivalent of the Emmy Awards) and was unsurprisingly consistently herself.

She said “fuck” twice live on national TV, made fun of the Tom-Katie-Suri craze and chastised the Aussie people to “grow up”.

Joan Rivers was awarded with a complementary trophy, a pink one! [silver trophies are given to category winners while the the gold Logie is awarded to the most Popular TV personality of the year] After the co-presenter handed her the special Logie, there was a short applause from the dining crowd. And while delivering her “I’m-so-touched” line, she threw the pink monstrosity across her shoulder, the thing went rolling on the stage while Joan nonchalantly proceeded with her presenting duties.

Everyone went ape laughing.

Instead of reading out the nominees she stooped down to pick-up the trophy, waved it to everyone and announced that they can post a bid for it at E-bay the next day.

She then complained “it’s the most disgusting trophy I ever received”.

The whole thing was so hilarious I almost forgot about how blandly (a few of them—horrendously) dressed most of the Aussie TV stars were.

But I’ll be diplomatic and will keep the rest of my Logies 2006 red-carpet thoughts to myself. Papua New Guinea is still an Australian lair. This aint neutral ground!

What is life without comedy and ill-dressed stars?

Acts

My Bible-armed colleague ambushed me one I-hope-no-one-speaks-to-me Monday morning rubbing the pages of the Acts of the Apostles to my Nivea Pore Cleanser-nursed face.

The bigot ran out of Amens when I told her I’m as Christian as Hans Christian Anderson but I don’t subscribe to the story of the physical Resurrection of Christ.

This is but one of the personalities I deal with in my day in and out here in the betel nut capital of the world—Port Moresby!

Life’s a bitch!

Kid

My father’s bed
April 19, 2003
Around 10.30 in the morning


Me: Pa, have you said your prayers yet?
Dad: (shakes his head)

Me: Hail Mary full of grace the Lord is with you, blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus.
Dad: Holy Mary mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of my death amen.

Me: Hail Mary full of grace the Lord is with you, blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus.
Dad: Holy Mary mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of my death amen.

Me: Hail Mary full of grace the Lord is with you, blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus.
Dad: Holy Mary mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of my death amen



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He passed away that afternoon.

That was our last conversation.

We still talk every now and then.

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My father is fondly nicknamed “Kid".