Moonstruck

Talking To The Moon 

The moon is accomplice of all things related to the heart.- Walter Mercado

I had planned on talking about the movie Moonstruck, but I don't really remember much about it.

It is funny, I recall. It stars Cher.

So, I googled it for its cast of moonstruck characters.

First of, there's Loretta Castorini (Cher), a widow in her late 30's. She finds herself in a difficult situation when she falls in love with her fiancé's hot-tempered, estranged younger brother.

There is her wise, cynical mother who goes out to dinner by herself on a moonlit night and meets a middle-age university professor who specializes in seducing his young students, but who has found in this mature woman a certain undeniable sexuality.

There is Cher’s father who has a furtive and yet somewhat sweet affair that he has been carrying on for years.

So, there. Need I say more?

When the moon hits your eye, like a big-a pizza pie - that’s amore!

You're moon·struck.

adjective

unable to think or act normally, especially because of being in love

And so this blog series comes to an end.

Moono

 Talking To The Moon

Only those who look with the eyes of children can lose themselves in the object of their wonder. - Eberhard Arnold

We were in search of something in the Kaneohe sky that night.

Moono.

That was how First Grandson used to call... (could you have guessed it correctly?) ... the moon.

The night was pregnant with stars. But the moon was lost. Lost between clouds. 

Carrying baby boy close to my body, I'd hoist him up sometimes so he could see beyond the rooftops and plumeria trees.

 

Then we caught a glimpse of the moon hovering just above the canopy of coconut palms at the bend of the road.

Until it was in full sight, splashing its pale glow onto us.

Little Grandson pointed at it and crooned, Moono. 

It seemed like the moon followed us everywhere, putting on an elegant show of shape and color. At times, it looked like a mandala.

It never left. It was always there. Watching. Steadfast.

The moon was our loyal companion even as we headed home.

Looking back at it, baby boy muttered in a sleepy haze, Moono.

Then just like that, he was asleep in my arms. His chest moving up and down, his lips puckered soft.

Since then, his growing up has been happening in a heartbeat.

Hasn't it only been a few years back when he romped with Lolo or blew four candles on his birthday cake?

This is baby boy today, towering over us all. 

Bronze Medalist, TransPacific Volleyball Championships. First Grandson, 14 years old. Hawaii Convention Center, Waikiki: January 13-15, 2024

He calls me a midget, but I just smile.

Of all the things my hands have held, I was thinking, You are by far the best.

One whom I love to the moono and back.

No Longer A Baby, Our Moono Boy

   

I'll Be Seeing You

Talking To The Moon 

... And when the night is new, I'll be looking at the moon but I'll be seeing you. - Song Lyrics recorded by Bing Crosby, 1944

Do you feel woozy every time your object of affection passes by your desk in class? Do you swoon with delirious happiness whenever he says as much as, Hi?

Well, guess who's having a crush?

Pimply teen me in second year high school.

A fallen victim to that wildly misunderstood although highly desirable malfunction of the heart which weakens the brain, causes eyes to sparkle, cheeks to glow, blood pressure to rise, and the lips to pucker.

Impish, youthful love.

That was when I woke up in the morning and went to school, just so I could see his face.

It was that time when I'd spend hours trying to find one imperfection, and I just couldn't find any.

It was when I'd hear a song on the radio, and looking up at the moon as the single most romantic place in the galaxy, I'd hum the tune, 

I'll be seeing you... All day through 

... thinking about him with Every.Single.Word.

It may be that the moon was looking upon many night flowers, and the night flowers saw but one moon.

But for me, that eventide, I looked at the moon and was only seeing you. (Sigh...)

In hindsight, how pathetically adolescent.

Silvery Moon

Talking To The Moon

The moon was a warm milky glow in the sky, as if the sight of it could become a song in the eyes of anyone willing to raise their head upward. - Angela Abraham

Among Auntie Lucy's suitors, Mr. Mendez was my favorite.

He was kind and gentle.

More importantly, he had a car.

Whenever he visited, I remember that I'd pat my plaited hair neatly, smoothen out my dress, and put on my chinelas (slippers). Then, dragging First and Second Brothers, I'd advise my Mum, 'Mie, punta kami sa kabila (we're going next door) and run the few steps to Lolo Gorio's house.

Why?

Because I knew that Mr. Mendez would be taking us all on a ride along Dewey Boulevard. 

The area was a popular waterfront promenade. Running along the shores of Manila Bay, it was well known for its sunsets and stretch of coconut trees.

I didn't know why, but every time we did this ride, we'd belt out:

By the light of the silvery moon

I want to spoon

To my honey, I'll croon love's tune

Perhaps, it was the grace of the white-gold moon that made us sing.

Honey moon, keep a-shinin' in June

Your silvery beams will bring love's dreams

We'll be cuddlin' soon

By the silvery moon

Maybe it was its glow.

Its magic. 

The wonder.

 

CHEERS!

Sending you heartfelt wishes for the New Year!

May all your troubles last as long as your New Year's resolutions.

May you spend lesser time online and more with real people who fill up your world.

Most of all, may you be more awesome than last year.

Keep the smile, leave the tear, hold the laugh, and forget the fear.

HERE'S TO 2024!

May it be filled

with new adventures

 and good fortunes.

Glad Tidings To All!

It seems like there isn't much to expect for Christmas this year.

Reportedly, Santa's sleigh was repossessed.

The North Pole is in foreclosure, and the elves have been laid off.

But come on, aren't we forgetting the true meaning of Christmas?

You know, the birth of Santa.

Or eating, drinking, and being merry?

Waiting For Company. Olive Garden Dinner: December 23, 2023

When you don't want to be judged as to whether you've been naughty or nice?

Just kidding.

Regardless of all the desperation, the anxiety and the woes, I know that in our hearts, there remains a spark of what Christmas is really all about.

              Home For The Holidays. Second Daughter's Home, Columbus

It is not so much about opening gifts as opening our hearts. Snuggled in the warmth of a fireplace, sharing a grandchild's joy.

It is keeping watch of a night when all is calm and bright, hoping for peace within our being.

It is filling our cup in abundance with love.

In this spirit, I send you all glad tidings and the warmest wishes for a Merry Christmas.

May this season fill your

 home with

warmth, 

light and joy!

It Is What This World Has Become

It snowed last night.

8 am: I made a snowman.

8:10 am - A feminist passed by and asked why I didn't make a snow woman.

8:15 am - So, I made a snow woman.

8:20 am - The gay couple living nearby threw a hissy fit and moaned it could have been two snowmen instead.

8:25 am - The vegans at the end of the lane complained about the carrot nose, as veggies were food and shouldn't be used to decorate snow figures. 

They also called me a racist because the snow couple was white.

8:30 am - I replaced the carrot nose with tofu and used food coloring to make one of the snow couple black and be more racially inclusive.

8:39 am - The middle eastern neighbor across the road demanded the snow woman be completely covered. When I didn't comply, the police arrived saying someone had been offended.

8:42 am - The feminist neighbor complained again that the broomstick of the snow woman needed to be removed because it depicted a woman in a domestic role.

8:43 am - The 'council on equality' officer arrived and threatened me with eviction.

8:45 am - TV news crew from ABC showed up. I was asked if I knew the difference between snowmen and snow women. I replied, Snowballs. I was branded a sexist.

9 am - I was on the news as a suspected terrorist, racist, homophobe, and sensibility offender bent on stirring up trouble during difficult weather.

9:29 am - Far left protesters offended by everything marched down the street demanding that I be arrested.

10 am - I cried into my drink because all I wanted to do was build a snowman.

There ain't no moral to this story. 

It is what this world has become because of a bunch of snowflakes.

(Source Unknown)