Monthly Archives: July 2014

Faith, Family, God, Love

Roller Coaster Ride

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May 4, 2011.  It’s been a roller coaster ride with the cornea transplant. The first one that took place on a Friday three weeks ago went perfectly well but the very next day Mike accidentally hit his eye with his arm while sleeping and burst a suture. Mike complained about pain Saturday and Sunday, but the doctor thought it was just the natural healing process and told him to just rest and take medication.

We didn’t know the real situation until his Monday checkup, and the doctor didn’t let him go home. He went straight into surgery to save the cornea, and added another five sutures to the 16 Mike already had. The danger was that infection had set in during the weekend when a part of the eye was open. For the next week it seemed that things were getting better other than Mike’s complaint that he was not seeing things as clearly as he did right after the first operation (which the doctor attributed to the additional five stitches that were bearing more weight than the others) and that there was a constant pain in one part of the eye.

So last Wednesday, when Mike went to the doctor, they noticed that there was a new tear and that suture management had to be done. Mike was scheduled for surgery the next day.The doctor removed the five stitches he had added and re-arranged stitches so that there would be equal bearing on the eye. Well, what was supposed to take 30 minutes took about three hours. Once again, subsequent check-ups indicated that things were OK.

Then the other day while I was at a meeting in Makati, I got a text message from Bea that Mike was again going into the Operating Room. That’s when I completely lost it. Before going to Asian Hospital, I passed by our parish church, went on my knees, wept and implored God for help.

Bea and I prayed on our way to the hospital. The operation took from 7pm to 12:30 am. I didn’t even get to see Mike or talk to the doctor before the surgery. I kept begging the nurses for word as to what was happening. All they could say was that the operation was ongoing, and that Dr. Manolette Roque was the only doctor in attendance.

When the doctor finally emerged, he looked exhausted. I hugged him and thanked him. He said he had to re do all the sutures twice because part of the cornea had torn, part of it had dissolved, the eye chamber had almost collapsed, and was leaking like a cheesecloth.  He said he finally got the leaks plugged, had put in a lens bandage, and wanted to see Mike when he woke up.

Both Mike and Dr. Manolette hadn’t eaten or taken a sip of water all those long hours. The surgery was done without general anesthesia, as there was no prep time. At one point, the doctor asked Mike if he believed in God. Mike said he was Christian, and so they both prayed hoping for a miracle. Outside, Bea and I continued praying. I saw Pope John Paul’s beatification on the waiting lounge TV and prayed to him for a miracle.

It took Asian Hospital awhile to get the billing done as we were the only ones left. We arrived home at about 2:30am, and I had to leave for a teaching assignment by 7am.  By 1pm, I accompanied Mike to the doctor.  We feared the worst.

When he removed the bandage, Manolette was overjoyed because the cornea was still clear, the chamber was deep, and there was no leak. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He had expected the cornea to die because of all the trauma it had suffered. He was so happy he started to cry. He said there was no explanation. I told him there was only one. God had listened to our prayers and performed a miracle!

Accountability, Faith, Family, Forgiveness, Friendship, God, Love

Ask and it will be given

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(Sharing something I had written three years ago.  As real then as it is now.)

April 20, 2011.  Wednesday afternoon, Mike’s doctor called to tell us that there was a cornea available that fits the profile needed by Mike. A 21-year old gunshot victim. A quick decision was needed; otherwise, the cornea would no longer be suitable. Mike decided to go for the transplant, and so it seemed that our journey for the past two and half years was coming to a close.

It all began when Mike decided to go for cataract surgery.  He had a cataract in his right eye removed over 15 years ago, and everything had gone well. He has also had laser surgery to correct his vision, and that went well too. So he thought nothing of having his left eye fixed, and decided to go to Asian Hospital and ask them for a recommendation.  He met up with a young woman doctor who had trained in the United States, and whose clinic hours worked favorably for his schedule. Mike was impressed with the confident way she spoke, and thought he was in good hands. After a few visits, he decided to schedule the surgery.

It was a very busy time, work-wise, and so it was only on surgery day that I was able to accompany him to Asian Hospital. Before the surgery, I spoke to the doctor and asked her to walk me through what was going to happen. She told me it was a simple 15-minute procedure using the latest equipment, and assured me that she had done it several times. All she needed to do was replace the lens with a new one.  He didn’t even have to be confined.

I settled to wait in the lobby and worked on my laptop while waiting for the operation.  After an hour, I approached the nurses’ window to ask how the operation was going. They said everything was OK.  Assured, I went back to work. After another 30 minutes had passed, I again approached the window.  This time, the lady doctor came out and said Mike was just resting.  Not to worry.  But when another 45 minutes had passed, and still no Mike, I became really agitated and demanded to know what was happening. The nurses had no answer. I paced back and forth and kept coming back.

Three hours after the operation had started, the doctor finally came out and said everything was OK. I asked her why it had taken so long, when she said it would just take 15 minutes. She said there was a slight complication, but not to worry, his eye would heal and he should be able to see clearly in a few days.

When I saw Mike, my heart sank.  It looked like he had been pummeled, and his eye was grotesquely out of shape. I put up a brave front, and brought him home after settling all the hospital bills.

After several post-op visits and Mike could still not see, we began to worry. His doctor kept giving many reasons why Mike’s eye was not responding as quickly as it should.  I was shocked to learn later that they had to call another doctor to finish the operation because his own doctor had panicked during the procedure and could not put in the lens. His cornea was irreparably damaged due to the long wait that the eye was open and irrigated for the operation.

We consulted different eye specialists, but the prognosis was always the same: he would never recover clear eyesight in his left eye. The only glimmer of hope left was a cornea transplant, and that would be a hit and miss affair.  Nevertheless, we signed up at the eye bank.

Later, Mike found a doctor he liked and could trust wholeheartedly in the person of Dr. Manolette Roque.  An earnest young and distinguished doctor, Manolette had set up the Eye Republic Ophthalmology Clinic.  Manolette quickly became Mike’s confidante and friend.  Both highly IT-literate, they discussed different options for surgery and explored new technologies as they became available.

Being a prolific writer, Mike was severely affected.  Physically, he was in a lot of pain. He got tired easily.  He also lost his depth vision, and would sometimes walk into the wall, or miss the glass as he was pouring a drink. Financially, the constant medicines and visits were a strain.  Emotionally, it took a heavy toll.  He kept blaming himself for choosing the wrong doctor.  He even asked me if I still wanted him.  All I could do was assure him of my love.

I hated myself for not taking better care of my husband. If only I had not been so wrapped up with work that I did not pay attention to his plans for cataract surgery, we could have spent the time searching for a good doctor.  I had so much anger in my heart. I wanted to hurt the doctor, destroy her reputation, sue her for what she did and prevent her from inflicting similar harm to others. I even went as far as consulting a lawyer.  It galled that she never ever apologized or accepted her fault.  But, Mike, being a very private person, did not want me to talk about the situation or pursue the matter.   He vacillated between wanting to sue her and saying he did not want to destroy her life and her livelihood.  Of the two of us, Mike has always been the better person.

It took a while for Mike to adapt to his new condition.  I swallowed my fear each time he would take the wheel, but knew that if I did not let him drive, it would make him feel even worse.  Forbidden to wet his eyes, Mike also had to forego swimming, snorkelling and diving, activities he enjoyed immensely.  While our family and friends continued to pray for his healing, we all adapted to the situation. What was abnormal became the norm. It was thus a jolt of surprise when Mike received Manolette’s call last Wednesday.

When Mike decided to go on with the transplant, I quickly got my mobile phone out and started to text my children to inform them, and my friends to ask for prayers.  Mike asked me what I was doing, and told me to stop telling people as he didn’t want people to know.  I asked him why, and he said it was just an eye operation, and he did not want to bother anyone, especially since there were other people who were suffering from much more serious conditions.  I stopped what I was doing, but when I learned that he had emailed our excom to advise them he would not be around for our next meeting, I decided to go ahead and ask all my friends and family to pray for him, for Manolette, and for the young cornea donor who had died.  I am so thankful that I did.

Yesterday morning, I was touched by the Lord, and felt His presence in my life.  While waiting for Mike’s surgery to begin, I confided in the Lord that I did not know how to pray to Him.  I opened my Bible cover, and saw tucked into a side pocket, a small novena that someone had given me long ago and which I had never read.  It was entitled “Novena to God’s Love.” In the inside back cover, there was a prayer of thanksgiving and surrender.  While reading it, I felt a wave of calm pass over me.  Then, flipping through the pages, I discovered that the footnote for each page was calling out to me:

“Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you.” Matthew 7:7

“Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.” Matthew 6:8

“My God will fully supply whatever you need, in accord with His glorious riches in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:19

“If you ask anything of me in my name, I will do it.” John 14:14

“Amen, amen, I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in my name, He will give you.” John 16:23

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavens. Ephesian 1:3

“Therefore I tell you, all that you ask for in prayer, believe that you will receive it and it shall be yours.” Mark 11:24

Surely, I thought, this was the Lord telling me not to worry, that he would take care of Mike.  And so, I felt strangely calm while the operation was going on.

When I was told that Mike was now in the recovery room, I asked the nurses if I could see Mike. They said I could not go in, but that I could peek at him through the glass window.  After checking on him, I returned to the nurses’ window to ask if I could see the surgeon and the anaesthesiologist so I could thank them personally.  I was told they had already left.  Then a lady doctor who had passed me earlier and was already quite a distance away, doubled back and approached me, introducing herself as the anaesthesiologist. She assured me that Mike was fine. I was so happy that I could thank her personally, since I had never met her before.

While waiting in the lobby for Mike to recover, another lady doctor approached the nurses’ window. She had her back to me, but she seemed strangely familiar. When she turned, I smiled at her.  She then approached me. When she was closer, I realized that she was the doctor who had fumbled up Mike’s cataract surgery two and half years ago.

She introduced herself and asked why I was there.  I said I was waiting for Mike to recover from the cornea transplant surgery.  She asked how he was.  I am ashamed to say that at that moment, I wanted to hurt her, but suddenly, the words I had read earlier in Mark 11:25-26 flashed before my eyes: “When you stand to pray, forgive anyone whom you have a grievance, so that your heavenly Father may in turn forgive you your transgressions.”

Instead, I told her: “You know, Mike has suffered so much because of what you did to him two years ago. He has been in pain not just physically, but emotionally, mentally and even spiritually.  I have hated you so much and have wanted to sue you and destroy your reputation for what you have done.  But we have not done so, and after praying, I have realized that I must instead forgive you.”

She started to cry and said that she had not intended for it to happen. I understood then that she must have carried guilt and regret in her heart all this time, and that it must have been a heavy burden for her to carry as well. I just asked her to please make sure that she doesn’t harm anyone else, and that she also speak to my husband and apologize to him.  I then embraced her and we parted.

When Manolette came out of the operating room, I was surprised since the nurse said he had already left. I rushed to hug him and thank him.  That afternoon, after checking on Mike, Manolette said he was very happy with the results of the surgery. He rated the operation as 9 out of 10, and only because he had to give Mike general anaesthesia so he would be asleep during the procedure.

The surgery went well, and he is now at home resting. The next three days are critical though, to ensure that his eye does not get infected or inflamed so that the cornea would hold.  But, Mike can see more clearly now that he could for the past two years, and we are so very grateful to the Lord, and to all those who prayed for Mike!

As we enter the Lenten season, I’d like to share with you a passage from the Book of Isaiah (59:6-9) on true fasting:

“This, rather, is the fasting that I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke; setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke; sharing your bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless; clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own.

Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your wound shall quickly be healed; your vindication shall go before you, and the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer, you shall cry for help, and he will say: “Here I am.”

Truly we have an amazing God who loves us and makes the impossible possible!  He has everything planned out. I called and He answered.  But first, I had to remove the hate and anger in my heart and learn to forgive.  For it is in forgiving others and ourselves that we open ourselves to healing. How blessed we all are to be called His children!

Accountability, Church, Faith, Governance, Principles, Transparency

A Controversy Like No Other

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July 23, 2014.  Bishop Jesse Mercado was slated to pay a Pastoral Visit to the Ascension of Our Lord Parish at 5pm.  He was to say mass at one of the developing areas and then proceed to the parish for a fellowship and meeting with the parish leaders.  The parish leaders and Fr. Joseph Landero have been preparing for the visit for three weeks. I was asked to emcee the meeting and to help our parish secretary with the PowerPoint Presentation of parish plans during the meeting.

Truth to tell, I was hesitant about even showing up, not knowing how I would be able to handle the visit.  The first time I encountered a Pastoral Visit was in 2008, when I was president of the Parish Pastoral Council with Fr. Didoy Molina as our parish priest. Together with the other leaders, we prepared documentation of our parish activities, achievements, financial report, and plans which we presented in a Parish Covenant Book to the Bishop.  Full of fervor to serve the church, we were so happy when the Bishop congratulated us, saying The Ascension of Our Lord Parish may be a small one but it was an excellent example of a God-filled ecclesial community.

The last pastoral visit was in 2010.  By then, I had finished my term as president of the PPC and was now just a member of the Parish Planning Board.  But still, the fervor was there and we were again congratulated roundly.

This visit though was different.  This was the first time the Bishop was coming to visit after the heated controversy that took the Diocese of Paranaque by storm in 2012, spurring concerned parish leaders and parishioners to question the way the diocese was being managed on issues of governance, transparency and accountability.  The controversy landed in national news and was covered in a chapter in the book, Altar of Secrets.  The Lay Initiative for Transparency and Accountability (LAITY) was established, as the laity pushed for reform, communicating with church leaders, even as far the Vatican.

For being one of those who voiced out our concerns, I was criticized roundly and made a target during parish sermons. The other parish leaders were also treated the same way, eased out of their parish pastoral councils, and some even were not renewed as lectors and ministers of the Holy Eucharist. The priests who had stood up against the bishop were removed from their positions, and assigned to hardship posts.

The controversy cut the community deeply as parishioners all over the diocese took sides.  My daughter withdrew from being a lector, and my son from being an altar server.  Niccolo could not bear hearing his mother lambasted in church.  Mike stopped going to church, and ordered me to stop tithing until we were sure that the monies collected went to their intended beneficiaries.  Pretty soon, I was all alone going to mass, still serving as a lector but hurting nevertheless.  I reminded myself that it was God I was serving and not the church leadership.  And then Mike took ill, and I withdrew from attending LAITY meetings to focus on taking care of him.  I agonized over what had befallen our family for having stood up on my principles.  Did God take Mike away because of this?

On Pentecost Day during mass, Fr. JoLan announced that the bishop had been cleared by the Nuncio of all wrongdoing in a report.  I asked my circle of priest friends if they had seen the report.  None had. I wanted to ask for a copy of that report, as the LAITY as well as concerned priests had met with the Nuncio several times regarding the situation, asking for an answer to our questions.  Such a report would put the matter finally to rest, I thought and would be a first step towards healing the rift.

The day before the pastoral visit, I called Chris, our parish secretary to ask for a copy of the Parish Covenant Book on which the presentation was to be based.  Chris said he was still working on it, but would email it first thing in the morning.  I woke up at 5am that day, ready to work on the prezo, but it had not come in.  With back to back meetings all day, it was not until the afternoon that I realized that I still had not received the promised email.  So, at 5pm on that rainy afternoon, I went to the parish to work on it, but not before first passing by the new adoration chapel.  As I knelt in the still chapel, I prayed for guidance, discernment, patience, forgiveness and understanding.  Let Your Will be done, Oh Lord, I prayed.

At the bahay pari, I learned that Chris was still at work and had not finished putting together the Parish Covenant Book.  I asked him to email what he had finished so far.  Instead, I got the individual reports of the various commissions which were in different formats.  As I rushed to compile these into a coherent presentation, I heard the Bishop and the priests arrive.  I stood up and greeted the Bishop, who extended his condolences on Mike’s passing.  I was surprised that he had known.  Perhaps Fr. JoLan had told him.

The dinner and the meeting went smoothly.  I was itching to grill the Bishop regarding the controversy and the Nuncio report that Fr. JoLan had talked about, but did not want to embarrass the council and Fr. JoLan, and so I kept quiet. Doing so would only make matters worse, I thought. No questions were asked during the open forum.  It was only later I found out that they had been told not to ask questions.  Oh, well!

As we left the room, I went up to the Bishop and asked him why he still had not given Fr. Didoy a parish.  After all, the Bishop had told me that he would do this a year ago.  The Bishop said it was because Fr. Didoy would not see him. What if I arranged the meeting, I asked him.  Would you talk to him as Christ did his disciples?  He gave me his mobile number and said yes.

Will need to storm the heavens with prayers to make this work.

 

 

Art, Family, Love, Work

Love in Pictures

Gallery 2 Comments

(July 26, 2014, Manila) This morning, Bea handed me a sketch of Mike holding a camera, drawn by Joyce Romero of our Creative Department.

Each year, our TeamAsia family celebrated Mike’s birthday with a caricature of Mike as the hero of whichever movie blockbuster was hot then.  The tradition was started a decade ago by our then Creative Director, Ritchie Baquirin, and was continued by the Creative Department. I bet the artists competed as to who would have the best caricature that year.

Like a little child, Mike looked forward eagerly to receiving the caricature, wondering weeks ahead what they would come up with for his birthday.  And when he got his gift, he would put it up on the shelf of honor to join the others.   There was always a lot of ribbing by visitors when they would see the collection:

Picture1

Picture2 Picture3

 

Now displayed on what I call Mike’s wall of fame in the office, these caricatures, unspoken, tell me how much Mike was loved by our staff. He was a natural leader, a visionary who guided TeamAsia through the many challenges we had faced, embracing opportunities for expansion and growth, always with an eye to using technology for innovation, spurring everyone to be world class, and keeping firm values of doing the right thing always and giving back. 

He was great at motivating people, yet set the bar high for performance, beginning with himself. He was generous with his time, mentoring the staff, allowing them to make the mistakes that would make them better people.  No wonder they respected and loved him.

MAH-UP Mike as the kindly grandfather in UP who accompanies a chubby kid and his dog on a great adventure.

On his last birthday on earth, he was portrayed as the kindly grandfather who had just lost his wife whom he deeply loved and was very saddened, until a chubby little boy scout came and badgered him to buy his cookies.

I don’t know why but when I first saw that last sketch of Mike holding on to the colorful balloons as he swung up, up into the air, I felt a tug in my heart.  It seemed like he was saying good-bye to me.  I didn’t know that just eight months later he would be gone forever.

for MIHAnd now, here’s this sketch of Mike with his camera pointed at me, just as I remember him.

Is he telling me something?

 

Family, Food, Friendship, Love

July 15 Birthday Blues

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Mike's birthday at Paul and Hazel's home in Bangkok
Mike’s birthday at Paul and Hazel’s home in Bangkok

For the longest time, July 15 was a date I always looked forward to with eager anticipation, planning how best to celebrate my beloved Mike’s birthday.  A shy person, he preferred intimate celebrations, with family and very close friends.  Invariably, it would be a paella and steak dinner, washed down with wine.

Mike loved to sing, retiring to the entertainment room with his friends after dinner for an evening of music. I can’t carry a tune, but loved listening to Mike sing.  I would fall in love with him all over again each time he would sing to me.

On the day he turned 40, his staff at AIM gave him a surprise party.  I dropped by to say hello to the staff, and got invited to the party.  A few weeks later, Mike asked me to marry him.

When he turned 50, I threw him a big surprise party and invited his friends to our house.  It was hard keeping Niccolo from spilling the beans, but Bea and Cara gamely kept him quiet.

We spent his 54th birthday visiting his best friend Paul and his wife Hazel in Bangkok.  Paul cooked up a storm at their flat, and gave him a Superman doll as a gift.  Those two always teased each other endlessly.  When Paul and Hazel came to live in our village, we would celebrate Mike’s birthday at their house.

On his 58th birthday, we invited friends to the Alfonso retreat.  His steak group was there.  And it turned out to be a triple celebration, as we also feted Julia Holz and Mon Jimenez who were also celebrating their birthdays.  Poor Mon!  We didn’t know it was his birthday, so his name wasn’t on the cake that Julia had brought.

I planned a big party for Mike’s 60th, but he didn’t feel up to it.  He had a persistent cough and a fever that wouldn’t go away.  Instead, we had a quiet lunch with just his closest friends at Alfonso. Little did I know that a few months later, the big C would knock the wind off our sails.

He would have been 62 today.  Too young to say good-bye to this world.  How I wish I could wrap my arms around him, give him a kiss and tell him how much I love him!  But in my heart of hearts, I know he knows.

Aishiteiru, Mike, forever and a day!  Happy birthday in heaven!

Family, Food, Friendship, Women

The Wine Lovers Club… How Friendship Began

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July 13, 2014.  Friday night, I went out with my good friends, Angie Laborte, Mongsie Wulff, Miri Medalla and Marie Segura.    Mongsie, a friend from my first job after AIM, is our erstwhile leader.  She organizes all of our get togethers, and is always a lot of fun to be with.  Angie is our social directress.  A friendly person, she knows just about everyone. She is also the one who encouraged me to attend Bible Study Fellowship, to which I’ve been going for four years.  A cancer survivor, she and some friends put together Project Pink to help others cope with the dreaded C.   Miri is a saint.  She is the kindest, gentlest person I know, and her brood of seven boys and one girl are so lucky to have her as their mom.  Marie is a late joiner to the group, but beloved nevertheless.  Marie together with her husband Rodrigo run a training and leadership development team. And then, there’s super banker Chloe Medalla and Dr. Mae Corvera who could not join us that night.

We get together as regularly as Mongsie can arrange, and each time is a breath of fresh air.  It’s great to have girl friends to hang around with, share stories,  laugh and cry with.  And the fact that our husbands are all friends makes it so much easier to go out with each other (read: no need to ask permission).   Also, now that both Sam and Mike are in heaven watching over Miri and me,  we get to go out even more often.

IMG_0398We began the night at Draft, having dinner and Hoegaarden beer  (yes, it was Miri’s first time to have beer, and my third),  and ending it with wine  and Sweet Bella dessert at our favorite watering hole: Ralphs in Molito.  A lot of teasing always accompanied our get-togethers.  This time, I was the target, but didn’t mind.

On the way home, I recalled how we all met seven years ago.  I checked my diary.  It was August 2009, and here’s what I wrote then.

“A funny thing happened Friday a week ago. It was the end of the workweek, and Mike asked me to go with him and our friend Paco Sandejas to a wine testing at Wine Depot.  I turned him down and just asked him to pick me up after the event as I was determined to work late at the office to catch up on backlog.  But I couldn’t find some important files I needed, so when Mike popped back into the office to check on me before he left, I changed my mind and went with him.  Little did I know what was in store for me. 

At Wine Depot, I bumped into neighbors Ped and Carol Pido, whom I hadn’t seen for quite awhile.  I also met two elderly gentlemen, one of whom turned out to be my father’s student in law.  Then, I met two interesting women, Angie Laborte and Miriam Medalla, who asked me if I was interested to join them in a cooking competition since they lacked one more person to form a team. Apparently, Paco Sandejas had told them I knew how to cook.  By then, I was already a bit tipsy and very red from wine (just a few sips and my color comes out in full glory, especially when I’ve had nothing to eat) and so I gamely said yes. 

Well, this turned out to be the Iron Chef competition at Palms Country Club, and the captain of our team happened to be Mongsie Wulff, a friend from when I was young, single and working at my first job after AIM.  We found out later that all three of us (Mongsie, Miriam and I) had husbands who were on the Palms Social Dining Committee, and Angie was a full-fledged member of the same committee.  I resolved to have fun.  After all, I needed the break from all the stress related to work.

And what a break it was!  After an initial discussion, we resolved to meet at Mongsie’s home in Southwoods for a practice session one evening.  We exchanged recipes, cooking and laughing while drinking wine and getting to know each other.  The Iron Chef was scheduled on Saturday.  As the day neared, tension began to mount. None of us were professional chefs; we only cooked for our families, and some of us (ahem) just occasionally.  Captain Mongsie made sure all bases were covered: faxing recipes, making plans, following up, and calling a special meeting at 1pm on D-Day (the competition was supposed to begin at 3pm).

After lunch at home, Mike and I left our village headed for Palms only to find out that both the West Service Road and SLEX were clogged.  We took our chances on the service road, and what a mistake that was!  As we inched our way to Palms, I get a message from Mongsie: “We meet at library. I am here with oxygen mask,” followed shortly with “Group 5 withdrew. The professional group. Rumored they were intimidated by Group 6 (that’s us).”  Mongsie’s dry humor was infectious.    

After donning our red kerchiefs (thank you, Miriam) and saying a short prayer (“Lord, thank you for the friendship you have given us and guide us so that we do not embarrass ourselves too much”), we were ready to cook up a storm.  We signed ourselves in as “The Wine Lovers” in tribute to our first encounter, but pretty soon the emcee began calling us the Desperate Housewives team. 

Six teams were competing, one of which was from Palms.  We were the amateurs.  We were handed our uniforms and toques (pretty nifty!) and introduced to our gentle kitchen assistant, Christian.  No, he was not allowed to cook or cut, only to carry things for us and wash the dishes.  Nevertheless, he was a real boon, an angel in disguise!

228206_1034802144597_5214_n 228551_1034802104596_4932_nAfter the first frenzied hour of deciding how to cook the salmon, tiger prawns and beef blade for 12 people, we hardly felt the next three hours as we worked on the task at hand.  We agreed to do Miriam’s mom’s secret recipe for the salmon as appetizer, coupled with a green salad with Angie’s dressing, and a duo of Mongsie’s special beef goulash recipe, and my prawn and mushroom stuffed capsicum for the entrée. 

With only two stove top burners assigned to us and both being used by Mongsie, Angie and I retired to the main kitchen to cook.  What an experience!  And I thought organizing international conferences was hard.  Well, I now have a real appreciation for chefs!

225576_1034802024594_4362_nAfter seeing all the dainty and pretty-as-picture dishes the other teams prepared and comparing our hefty servings (hey, we all know how much our children and husbands eat!), we were all laughing so hard tears sprung to our eyes.  There’s no way we could compete presentation-wise, but since taste was 60% of the criteria, we felt we might just squeak by.  So, we just decided to relax and drink after all the hard work.

222376_1034800664560_146_nWell, we didn’t bring home any of the three awards, but we all felt like winners, with husbands, children and friends cheering us on and declaring us the winners in their hearts and stomachs.  What a wonderful experience it was!  We all resolved to meet once a month to cook for our families and continue the beautiful friendship that began a week ago at a wine tasting event which I almost passed up.

Here’s a toast to friendship!”

It’s been seven years since that cooking competition, and I thank God for these girlfriends of mine.  I look forward to getting old with them. Love them all!