RAINBOW
Whenever June comes around, I always think of the phrase, “Life is not all cupcakes and rainbows.” And I agree.
Life is filled with highs and lows, joys and sorrows, and June always seems to remind me of both. So let’s start with the difficult things and get them out of the way first.
I was supposed to write this diary on June 13, the day after Independence Day. I was certain I had plenty to share. I had already written down notes in my notebook and even went through my Instagram story archives to refresh my memory about everything that happened over the past month.
But when midnight arrived and June 14 finally began, I suddenly remembered that it was my father’s birthday.
And it completely stopped me.
My dad passed away in 2009 at the age of 37.
Thirty-seven isn’t old.
Every year when his birthday comes around, I find myself reflecting on how quickly a life can pass. It reminds me not to take life for granted. Because he certainly did at times. There were moments when he even took us—his family—for granted.
When he passed away, many people didn’t know this story, but it happened only five days after my birthday.
January 10.
A Saturday morning.
The night before, I dreamed about him.
We were at Enchanted Kingdom. If you’re not familiar with EK, it’s one of the most famous amusement parks in the Philippines. In my dream, he left me near the entrance while he walked away, seemingly headed toward the ticket booths. He told me to stay in the wide parking lot.
I asked him, “Where are you going?”
He replied, “Just stay here. I’ll go ahead.”
I asked why, but he only smiled and told me to be patient.
“Just stay.”
A little while later, when I could no longer see him, I woke up to my aunt’s voice. She was speaking on the phone. It was my older brother on the other end, and I could hear the concern and sadness in her voice.
I was only half awake, but somehow I already knew.
My father had died alone in the hospital.
My brother had taken a single day off to rest, and somehow that became the day our father chose to return to the Creator.
During his wake in Batangas, I made a strange decision. The following Monday, I went to school as if nothing had happened. I didn’t tell anyone my dad had died. I stayed quiet and pretended everything was normal.
Then my adviser, Sir Gerry, came into the classroom. He called me forward and asked my classmates to offer their condolences. And that it’s okay to go home and grieve.
Some of them were shocked that I hadn’t told anyone.
Even now, it still baffles me that I handled it that way.
I suppose his life passed by quickly. These days, none of us really talk about him much. He wasn’t a good father, but we loved him anyway—even when we didn’t always feel much of his love in return.
Because of him, I learned how to love someone without expecting anything back.
And growing up, that wasn’t easy.
Now that I’m an adult, I’ve come to understand how difficult life can be. But the mistakes he made were still choices, and this is the story I inherited.
He will always be my father, no matter what.
And I will always love him, even when those feelings come with conflict and questions I still can’t fully answer.
Happy birthday, Papa.
You would have been 55 today.
Now for the good news.
I’ve been working hard on Book Two, and I’m proud of the progress I’ve made. I’m already halfway through the manuscript. There’s still a lot of editing ahead, but that’s become a part of the process I’ve learned to enjoy.
More than anything, I’m grateful to be working on something I genuinely love.
I’m also preparing to finish my second manga, which will be released at the Philippine International Comics Festival on July 10. I’ll be there for three days alongside other authors and mangakas.
Honestly, I feel most at home when I’m surrounded by fellow creatives.
I thrive in those spaces.
There’s something special about talking to people who understand exactly what you’re trying to say. It’s not that others can’t appreciate creativity—they absolutely can—but it feels different when you’re speaking with people who live it too.
Their insights, opinions, and perspectives are incredibly valuable, and they always help me become a better writer.
I also want to thank everyone who came by during my recent convention, Patrons of the Arts in Clark, Pampanga.
After six events together, that was my final convention with them.
I’ve made so many wonderful memories there, and I’m currently working on a vlog about the experience. Stay tuned for that video—I have plenty of bittersweet thoughts to share.
In other good news, the cat named after me, Kweezy, became a mother!
I’ve loved getting updates from Leigh, one of my old stream viewers. It still makes me smile knowing she named her kitten after me.
And another viewer, Mark, who lives overseas, named his firstborn daughter Christine Clementine.
I think that’s so sweet.
Christine is my name, and Clementine is from The Walking Dead—the very first Telltale game I ever played.
You have no idea how much those things mean to me.
Thank you.
I hope one day we’ll get the chance to meet face-to-face.
Lastly, I’m excited to finally reveal a preview of my newest manga release, Peripheral 2/2.
This is the conclusion of Dr. Dai’s story and what happened to him after meeting the one patient who changed his life forever.
I can’t spoil anything just yet.
But you’ll find out very soon.
I suppose what I’m really trying to say is this:
Life may not be cupcakes and rainbows.
There will be grief. There will be loss. There will be disappointments, regrets, and wounds that stay with us longer than we’d like.
But there is also hope.
There is light at the end of every tunnel.
And just like God’s promise symbolized by the rainbow after the rain, we’re reminded that no matter how many times we fail, stumble, or fall, He remains faithful.
The rainbow is a promise.
A reminder that we are not forgotten.
A reminder that He will never forsake us.