Why do they call it the flu bug? Even my doctor offered an opinion, in layman’s terms, that I must have caught the “bug” from my daughter who, incidentally, has always bragged about being “bionic.”

 

Could we perhaps rename this miserable parasite to something more descriptive of its power? How about the flu elephant? Or the 16-wheeler flu?

 

That’s what it’s like when it runs you down. Doctor wanted to know if I felt like a truck hit me. And I said: “Yes, and he backed up and ran me down again.”

 

He laughed. I was not joking.

 

It starts with pain all over your body and total loss of appetite. Now for those of us with weight issues, this may seem like good news. “Think of the pounds you will be shedding,” my cousin said, trying to cheer me up. But losing your taste for food is not the best thing in the world, regardless of your avoirdupois.

 

Whatever the name, I don’t wish this on anyone. Well, that’s not altogether true. God forgive me, but I was not feeling quite myself when these guys showed up to do our fiber-optic connections. Advice: please do not attempt to understand this unless your name is Mr. Fiber Optics or Mrs. Internet. Obviously, I am neither.

 

As soon as I felt like a certified moron, the monster flu hit me full force—throbbing headache, waves of nausea, dizziness, chills and fever. Yes, for the moment, briefly, I wished it on them. The story is too long to share. It might just bring on a relapse.

 

Writer perks

 

It is deeply heartwarming to receive feedback from readers who take the time (bless their hearts) to make thoughtful comments on “My Chair.” A recent one was unusual. I had written about phases of life and how it was like being onstage, doing a play. The reader asked: “Shouldn’t you be writing about life backstage instead?”

 

Although she missed my point completely, I realize the reader must know that I have indeed spent my life more backstage than on it. Strangely, this is not the first time anyone has suggested that I write about this (pardon the pun) stage in my life.

 

I toyed with the idea some time ago after someone who sits with me on this same section/page insisted that I should. I hammered out some lines, but ended up deleting them all. Recently, I decided to leave it alone. I told myself I will wait for the right time.

 

But when is “the right time?”

 

What a waste it is to put off doing something today, in the hope that it will be a better day some time in the future. How can any other time be better than what is assured us at this moment, here and now? Why wait?

 

Let us be honest. We have allowed too many prime opportunities to pass us by because we relied on some uncertain tomorrow and gave it more urgency than the today, that precious now, we have so kindly been given.

 

Untold harm

 

I believe most of us are guilty of this. More than just depriving ourselves of the joys of today, we have inflicted untold harm on others by making them hesitate, holding them back and causing them to miss it, like we have. We may do this out of love. But think about it. Isn’t it more out of fear?

 

I look back and ruefully contemplate the things that I have left undone still unraveling by the wayside, because I waited for a better time.

 

I held back forgiveness because I was not ready. Then it was too late to forgive. Don’t let this happen to you. All we really have is today. Tomorrow is hoped for but never promised.

 

I heard myself thinking these thoughts the other night after watching “Forever Pilita,” a fundraiser by a Bible group in Alabang. Please allow me to rave a little. The C in my name, after all, stands for Corrales.

 

Pilita amazes. Singing, swaying, still standing in that inimitable stance, bending backward gracefully, all held in perfect balance as if by magic.

 

Her notes, if a bit more mellow today, are impeccable still. She pours out her heart and soul into every song. She always has.

 

Which is why I was rather annoyed that some ladies chose to chat and socialize during the show. I really wish they had shown some respect, some class. Oh well.

 

Evening surprise

 

Surprise of the evening was the appearance of the Wing Duo, Nicky and Angie. They are funny, naughty and as musically dynamic as ever. It was an overwhelmingly nostalgic night.

 

I heard that some television producers are trying to put “An Evening with Pilita” back on the air. What do you think? Someone suggested her life story in music. Great idea!

 

If not now, when?

 

We were a happy bunch that night. One lady at our table long after the last ovation continued humming, reluctant to break the spell of musical memories.

 

In a husky voice, just for us, she crooned “Today,” the precious words and music of Randy Sparks.

 

“Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine/

 

I’ll taste your strawberries; I’ll drink your sweet wine/ A million tomorrows will all pass away/ Ere I forget all the joy that is mine today.”

 

And this is my favorite part:

 

“I can’t be contented with yesterday’s glory/ I can’t live on promises winter to spring/ Today is my moment, and now is my story/ I’ll laugh and I’ll cry and I’ll sing.”