CORNERSTONE Years on, he graduated the best and began working at a reputable hospital as Head of General Doctors. Unknown to me, I was admitted into the same hospital he worked. “Ma'am, I'm sorry but you will have to stay till you are okay to leave,” the nurse said to me, diagnosed of Diabetes. “I am the mother of the worst kid on Earth. I am so unfortunate,” these I said soliloquizing. My son who walked at 3 and spoke at 5, made me realized fate had something wonderful in store for me. “I'm damn tired of this whole situation. I am filing a divorce against you,” these my husband said in fury. I had to take up a job as a cleaner to fend myself and my son. My son's dream was to study in one of the prestigious school in the world, ranked high in medicine. He once told his friends but they laughed him to scorn. They had the belief only the wealthiest gets in. “Mom, my friends said I can never get admitted into my dream school,” he cried home from school one day. I encouraged him to get off their myopic views of success and aim for the top. The more his friends and many other persons discouraged him, the more I encouraged but when I do the opposite, there was none to encourage. This was hard for him as I was his strength and at same time, weakness. I considered my financial capacity and the bad though of accepting a loan. A year later, his gap year took off. Unknown to me, he had been ruminating on what to do as the next phase of his life unfolded. He couldn't afford not resuming the college he was going to commit to the next year's fall. “You can't get into Harvard. It is very expensive. It has a very low acceptance rate. There are no college upfront costs programs to aid your application.” These statements made by his friends got him encouraged instead of the opposite. He began researching free programs, discovered the best fit for him, applied and was luckily selected. “Honey, where are you packing your luggage to?” I asked in surprise. “I'm leaving to my friend's place,” he replied. “What will you get yourself doing? Who is this friend? Where exactly does he lives?” I asked thousands of questions he had to answer. “Mom! Mom! Mom! I want to go hustle and make my living on this terrestrial ball an impactful one,” he replied. “Don't weep as I won't change my mind,” he commanded on seeing my teary eyeballs. After his departure, I busted out in tears that could fill a 50 liters bucket. He worked hard, applied. It was enigmatic for him to believe he got accepted into his dream school on full ride scholarship. Then I realized the saying “Diligence with resilience is really the gateway into success” and “Luck is not by chance but preparations meeting opportunities.” There was this practice in the hospital where the H.G.D. as referred to, visits all patients through a particular week in a month. I was lucky to be admitted during this period. On the third day of that week, it was my ward's turn. He came in, asked how I was feeling. I had a second look at him and discovered the tall handsome doctor was Brian. “Dr. Brian Rowland Adrian” I called out his name, in bewilderment. He was surprised to have a patient know his full name. I introduced myself and busted out in tears immediately. “Mum, is this you?” he replied in shock. We hugged for so long and shed tears of joy. He was happy to behold his father's bride after nine years of separation. Coincidentally, there was a male patient who was diagnosed of high blood pressure. As usual, he went in to ask the man's wellbeing. “This patient's face is familiar” he said to himself. “Sir, have we met before?” he asked. “I don't know you,” he replied. He could recognize the old patient's face as his father's but the patient couldn't. “Are you not Mr. Rowland Brown, the father of one Brian Rowland Adrian?” “Yes, I am but who are you? I don't know you before. How did you know the full name of my son? Have you been monitoring my family since I married?” he replied questioning. “I'm the son you left to die. The main reason you divorced my mum”, Brian replied. Immediately, tears flowed down his cheeks as he couldn't stand the shame of being treated by the same person he left untreated. “My son, please forgive me ,” he pleaded agonizingly. Brian left in anger and came show me to Rowland. “Dad, meet mum you left to suffer. I'm the product of only her pain and suffering,” Brian said in tears and rage. He promised not to forgive him. I had to intervene by begging Brian's forgiveness which took weeks for him to consent. A few days later, we both got discharged. Brian moved us to the house he had built. While having a reconciliation dinner together, I tapped Rowland and said, “Indeed, the stone the builders rejected is now the cornerstone,” rotating my eyeballs and neck round the whole beautiful paradise.
WRITING versus TYPING Hmmm.. which do you prefer? Personally I love them BOTH... but as an old-fashion guy, I prefer scratching ink and lead to different types of paper just like a traditional visual artist who does his self portraits,friends and ladies. WRITING = 70% TYPING = 30% WRITING versus TYPING Hmmm... Who's has a lot of styles? Definitely the Digital one while.. WRITING helps me to do manual calligraphy whereas TYPING instantly offers me a lot of Font options on my own convenience with less effort. The score: WRITING = 50% TYPING = 50% WRITING versus TYPING Hmmm... Who is the better keeper? Surely the First one. I am [Talking/Writing/Typing] based on experience.. After 'ol the effort on 'ol my written stuff!? I have accumulated bundles of notebooks, sketchpad, and canvases. ''Olmost 'ol those are kept on our Attic, on my bookshelves, on our other house and others are underneath my bed. Whereas my "TYPED-stuff" where digitally distributed on my laptops, flash drives and on the google drive. The score: WRITING = 60% TYPING = 50% WRITING versus TYPING Hmmm... Who is the bulky one? Surely the First one. The score: WRITING = 85% TYPING = 15% WRITING versus TYPING Hmmm... Who is more sentimental? Writing. The score: WRITING = 70% TYPING = 30% WRITING versus TYPING Who do I value more? Hmmm... Personally, If I were to choose between two (2) identical manuscripts- One (1) is hand-written on a notebook & the other one (1) is on a flash drive, Sorry but, I rather keep the notebook. And then afterwards... ....have the notebook digitized. The score: WRITING = 85% TYPING = 15% WRITING versus TYPING To whom i remember more? In WRITING, I can only use my Left-hand, Solely. Intimately ...whereas in TYPING, ..I can use both of my carpals. Tick-Tack! Dancing, Playing, ..like on a keyboard, or on guitar strings! WRITING versus TYPING Who do I love more? Hmmm... Both... Fifty (50) -Fifty (50) I love both my Year 2000 notebooks and my Year 2000 floppy disks. Except that I cannot open and read my floppy disks. :( ...Trapped. The real score: WRITING = 60% TYPING = 40% WRITING versus TYPING? Who will last better? Who really know? Dust mites, Termites, Digital viruses, forgotten passwords, .. A. I initiatives... ..the solution.... ..back-up, back-up.. ..digitized, ..digitized. ...And keep the most cherish Writings in the Attic.