Chronicles of Charyl

It was his brown, chocolate-shaded, powdery fur that earned him the name, Milo (yes, THAT chocolate drink!).  He just passed away this morning.  I'm a self-confessed pet un-lover, but I do make a few exceptions.  I believe it's Milo's cuddly looks and gentle disposition that reserved a soft spot in my heart for him.  Most mornings when I arrive in the station, he's there by the gate, either wagging his wee little tail (was that to greet me?) or running around to play with his mother (to make me envious?), the ever-energetic and we think crazy Pipiyu. Milo had his same friendly stance yesterday morning when I arrived at the office gate.  I remember telling myself, "Oh, there's Milo!" (although I'm not sure if that statement will make any impact whatsoever).  It was the same ordinary day, we, carrying out our assigned stuff for the broadcast when I overheard my colleague say " basin na-poison sya ."  I was a bit alarmed at the thought of

May is for mothers.  Sadly though, I have never come to a full appreciation of having a mother until she was the only one left.  It’s already more than a year since my father passed away.  Yet it was a slow realization that it’s now time for my mother to shine, at least in my heart. I’ve always been a Tatay’s girl, and I have my reasons.  I can still distinctly remember one childhood incident when I tried to beg for my Nanay’s attention by sleeping beside her and resting my thin legs on her chubby ones.  But she was so quick to cast me aside with her stern, “ Samuk! ”  I have never entertained the thought that she could have been so stressed from the day’s work.  All I know back then was that I was strongly and irreparably rejected.  Since then, I had never approached her with anything. I know I love her.  What I didn’t realize however was that I only know .  I haven’t really felt it - until my father passed away.  In God’s Sovereignty, I would like to believe that He took Ta