The Rookie Mama

And here is the other half of my father's eulogy, written by my big brother. Some may know that before we closed Dad's casket, I put my graduation ring from Western University in with him. What is less known is that my brother's first Tae Kwon Do black belt, embroidered with Gary Ramon Aguto, also went to rest with Dad... - - -  Some of you know him as Ray, Ramon, Uncle Ramon, Mr. Aguto, Master Aguto, or Lolo. I had the honour of knowing him as Dad.  As you all know, my dad battled cancer. He fought hard. And boy, did he fight. He fought to the end and never complained. He never turned his back to the Lord. The strength in my faith comes from my dad. He never once renounced the Lord or questioned His will. Even after seeing our #fcancer hashtags on our posts, he told us to not say that anymore. He said “God gave me cancer and God has the power to take it away. So, from now on change the hashtag to #faithovercancer.” I’ll miss him playing the guitar and singin...

For those who could not be there, I post my half of our father's eulogy in its entirety... Far in the north of the Philippines, on a tiny island rarely found on any map, a group of pregnant women were stricken by a disease. All but two lost their babies. One of those two was my Lola – and thus, my father was born as he would live: as a simple island boy against unimaginable adversity. My parents left The Philippines to search for a better, safer life. My dad arrived in Canada on a Friday and began working the following Monday, spending 26 years at Kaufman Footwear. When the factory closed, he moved on to Schneiders until 2010 when my parents jointly retired. Then Mom and Dad started to build their dream: a house above the beaches of Sayed, Batanes - a place they could spend the cold Canadian winters, but more importantly, a home they could share with their children and grandchildren. It was to be their legacy. The walls went up, the red metal roof to represent Canada w...

71 years. It seems like a lot, doesn't it? And it is. But it's also not.  Because time can play tricks on you.  You see that it's Frosh Week for the universities, and you realize it's been FIFTEEN years since you experienced that wild, nerve-wracking week. You have a newborn and although the days and sleepless nights feel like an eternity, suddenly a year is gone in a flash. How can time feel short and long at the same time? How can 71 years seem like a lifetime and yet not nearly long enough? Over seven decades ago, on a remote island in the northern Philippines, a sickness took root in a vulnerable population: women who were pregnant. Most of them, sadly, lost their babies. My grandmother, however, did not. And thus, my father was born.  Fast forward 70 years and 3 days, and my little koala celebrated his birth day. Naturally, we envisioned a grand festive occasion for the birthdays of my son and my father - music, food, drinks, and cake. Smiles, stories, laug...

It has been a long time since my last entry, and for the very simple reason that life happens - until it doesn't. And health is there until it is not. My father, the much-beloved patriarch of our family, was recently diagnosed with metastatic cancer. Our rock. Our Superman. Our living example of faith, family, and hard work. Suddenly, with one fateful sentence, everything we knew was flipped completely upside down and all our priorities changed. We learned about many scary terms. We thought many scary thoughts. And we cried ourselves to sleep, dreaming many scary dreams. After weeks and weeks in hospital, my father is back home with a road full of treatment and tests in front of him. And that road, it seems, may be shorter than we hoped. Me and my Dad at Sick Kids in the 80s But he is still here.  He's some 40 lbs lighter and 2 drain tubes heavier, but he is here. The movements may be slower but the mind is clear and the will is strong. And our family is ral...

(Yes, that is a shoutout to my girl, 90s Mariah Carey. My interest waned after Butterfly.) My hubby is a brilliant, witty, caring individual. But in the words of Hermione, he has the "emotional range of a teaspoon". He's the first to admit that he is a little robotic, a little Vulcan-like in his demeanour. Unless the man is a few shots deep in a bottle of Johnnie Walker, he is quiet and reserved. If you can believe it, there's a term for this in Danish which he recently learned and immediately identified with. He is the very opposite of a loud, boastful, attention-grabbing person; an anti-Kanye, if you will. Parenthood has not made him boastful. But it has made him emotional.  I myself get teary when I think of how far my little NICU preemie has come. Now that she's 8 months old and learning new things every day, I am simultaneously excited for tomorrow and nostalgic for yesterday. Much like it was during my pregnancy, I can get teary at a sweet commercial,...