I just realized that people still pass by this blog from time to time. Unfortunately, 3 blogs are a juggling act I cannot handle so let me invite you to the one that I've decided to maintain. It's called This is NOT a job for superheroes and I hope you check it out sometime.

A sincere thank-you to all who took the time to read (and even comment on) my posts here. I hope you've benefited from what you've read here in some way.

Maybe I'll be able to resume this blog someday, but for now it'll be "on hiatus."


** Artwork by Papemelroti

posted by sunnyday at 10:16 AM

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Terri Schiavo's death a year ago was a precedent of sorts. So many blogs in the blogosphere have been offering much information and insight on the issues surrounding this incident, so for today I'll simply post a copy of the open letter that Fr. Frank Pavone -- national director of Priests for Life -- wrote to Michael Schiavo and read on an internationally broadcast religious service on March 26:

“A year ago this week, I stood by the bedside of the woman you married and promised to love in good times and bad, in sickness and health. She was enduring a very bad time, because she hadn't been given food or drink in nearly two weeks. And you were the one insisting that she continue to be deprived of food and water, right up to her death. I watched her face for hours on end, right up to moments before her last breath. Her death was not peaceful, nor was it beautiful. If you saw her too, and noticed what her eyes were doing, you know that to describe her last agony as peaceful is a lie.


“This week, tens of millions of Americans will remember those agonizing days last year, and will scratch their heads trying to figure out why you didn't simply let Terri's mom, dad, and siblings take care of her, as they were willing to do. They offered you, again and again, the option to simply let them care for Terri, without asking anything of you. But you refused and continued to insist that Terri's feeding be stopped. She had no terminal illness. She was simply a disabled woman who needed extra care that you weren't willing to give.

Read the complete letter in the North Country Gazette

posted by sunnyday at 11:09 PM

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I'm trying to get back on track as far as this blog is concerned. Now that I'm slowly picking up again after concentrating more on my other blog the past couple of months, here's some good news to mark this comeback!

Pro-life Governments Around World Declaring March 25 “Day for the Unborn Child”

by Hilary White

March 28, 2006 (LifeSiteNews.com) – An international movement is afoot to establish March 25 as the Day for the Unborn Child. Beginning in 1993 in El Salvador as “Day for the Right to be Born,” the movement has grown to include other Latin American countries and is being imported to countries around the world.

The celebration in 1999 in Buenos Aires was noted by Pope John Paul II and joined by representatives of the Muslim, Orthodox and Jewish communities in Brazil. Pope John Paul said he hoped the day would be adopted internationally as “a positive option in favour of life and the spread of a culture for life to guarantee respect for human dignity in every situation.”

Now, Argentina, Paraguay, Guatemala, Peru, Nicaragua, Uruguay, Dominican Republic, Mexico, the Philippines, Costa Rica, Australia and even Cuba, make some annual observance of the right of the child to be born.

Full story at Lifesite

posted by sunnyday at 7:02 PM

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posted by sunnyday at 6:45 PM

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I've heard different women utter a particular 3-word statement when talking about a new relationship, about being engaged, meeting future in-laws, the newness of married life and any other stage of the boyfriend-girlfriend/fiance-fiancee/husband-wife journey: "He completes me."

They are obviously referring to their beloved when they say these words. I've often wondered what each of them meant, but I assumed those words meant something different to every one of them.

Then I come across this piece recently which contains the following:

There are plenty of love songs with the phrase, “You complete me.” Yet the accompanying notion that “two become one” implies that you are only 50% or half a person until married. That misguided belief has caused many disappointed brides who find out, only after walking down the isle, that marriage doesn’t fill you up, it doesn't complete you nor make you whole—a man offers so much in the way of love, understanding, companionship, strength but he cannot fill every void.

One some level, two indeed become one after a man and a woman make a promise to love and serve one another. But this doesn't mean that each is half a person before they pronounce their matrimonial vows. As the writer pointed out, "Marriage is the sum of the parts you already have; it either doubles the love or doubles the trouble, or doubles a little bit of both."




posted by sunnyday at 8:50 AM

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Excerpts from the article "Helping Elderly People," published in the Asahi Shimbun on May 24, 2005:

In the town of Shikatsu, Aichi Prefecture, an effective method has been adopted to prevent senile dementia. It is called a “memory-method approach,” and involves elderly people discussing their memories among themselves.

One of the participants said, “We went to school with a handmade cloth bag on our backs.” Another said, “We called a pencil box ‘fudezutsu.’”

They talked without interruption, switching from one subject to another, from umbrellas to school records and lunches. Their memories were surprisingly vivid, and the coordinators paid attention so that every participant talked.

The memory-method approach stabilizes the elderly people's state of the mind. They remember things relatively well even if they suffer from cognitive disease. They scrape together their memories and, in their minds, return to the course they have taken. By practicing that procedure, they reinvigorate their brain and gain the courage to meet the current circumstances they face.

The memory school was opened four years ago. The town's museum of folklore, in which about 100,000 pieces of houseware and toys, such as washtubs, folding dining tables and traditional cooking stoves commonly used in the Showa Era (1926-1989), are crammed, played a large part in establishing the school. The fact that elderly people who visited the museum became lively at seeing the articles being shown offered important suggestions to the planners.

Full story at Global Action on Aging

posted by sunnyday at 10:02 AM

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Know what EB stands for?

"Eyeball."

And it's got nothing to do with a visit to the ophthalmologist.

I first heard the term around 1998, used to refer to a meet-up between people who correspond through email, online forums and chatrooms. I tend to think the fellow who coined the term with this definition is on Philippine shores since I got a "huh?" everytime I mention the word to my online buddies then living elsewhere.

What's happening on the 23rd of this month is somewhat an eyeball, but then it goes deeper than sharing a cup of coffee and hanging out (which is what takes place many times among those who engage in this kind of meet-up).

Needless to say, Blogs4Life -- the first annual conference of pro-life bloggers -- will be a gathering with a goal. It'll be fun, too, and non-bloggers are welcome to join them, but suffice it to say the participants will be there not merely to hang out. I wish I could join them and meet others who regard respect and care for human life as a priority, especially in today's world where human dignity seems to be forgotten or disregarded by many.

The conference, organized by Tim of ProLifeBlogs and sponsored by The Family Research Council, will be held in Washington D.C. right before the March for Life gets going.




posted by sunnyday at 11:14 AM

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posted by sunnyday at 10:47 AM

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An excerpt from the book Hidden Messages: What Our Words and Actions are Really Telling Our Children

He peeks into his wife’s home office and greets her warmly. As they chat about their day, she asks if he’d mind fixing dinner so she can finish up a few things. “No problem,” he assures her. Before heading to the kitchen, he pauses to savor a moment’s peace, silently planning out the next few hours: check the mail, listen to messages, take a nice hot shower, change into sweats, fix a quick dinner…

“Hi, Daddy! Play with me?” Snapped out of his reverie, Jeff puts on a smile and bends to wrap a hug around the giggling little angel with the hopeful eyes. He twirls her around in big circles and plants kisses on her nose. “Hey, my little Lily-flower!” he croons. He buries his nose in her soft hair, loving the little-child feel and scent of her. Laughing with glee, Lily cherishes these sparkling moments in her daddy’s arms; craving more, she implores, “Play with me?”

“Hey, punkin’, I have some things to do; then we’ll play later.”

“Just a little while, Daddy?” she pleads with a smile. But looking at his face, she suddenly knows he’d never drop everything just for some silly play, but she can’t help asking one last time. When the expected answer comes, she wanders off resignedly to watch the TV show that’s always on at this time, always on for her when Daddy’s not.

Lily watches her program, all the while counting the minutes on the clock. Jeff loses himself in the mail, the newspaper, and the answering machine, looking forward to the completion of all his daily responsibilities so that he can play with his daughter. After some time on the computer reading e-mail, he trudges upstairs, loosening his tie. He can almost feel the steamy warmth of the shower, the comfort of those old sweats, the … wait, what is this?

He turns to find a beaming little girl, who’d sneaked up the stairs behind him, given away by the soft thumping of her tiny feet. She musters all the vocal sweetness that she imagines a good girl to have and asks, “Can we play now, Daddy?” She doesn’t want to bother him, doesn’t want to pester. She just wants him close to her, laughing his silly laugh just for her.

What Jeff hears is persistence -- a trait he will someday appreciate in her as an adult, but one that annoys him today. So, with a ruffle of her hair, he dismisses her with strained patience. “In a little bit, Lily. Why don’t you go ask Mommy if she can play with you now?”

* * *

“Ready for some dinner?” he asks, walking quickly past her in an effort to stave off a few repeats of her “Want to play?” chorus. He enters the kitchen and begins pulling items from the refrigerator. Just then, the telephone rings, and little ears listen -- as they always do -- as Jeff answers. “Hello? Hey, Steven. How are ya? Great. Did you catch the game Sunday? I can’t believe he missed that play…” And so he is lost to her again, this time to adult conversation, phone tucked between ear and shoulder.

* * * * *

After letting his wife know where he’s bound, he leans down to plant kisses on his daughter’s soft cheeks. “Be right back, punkin’,” he says. And he leaves too quickly to notice the silent tears that begin to run down those same cheeks so hastily kissed, soft cheeks that are soon buried in pillows. When Jeff returns, she is asleep, dreaming of moving out and becoming a neighbor who could ring the doorbell, call Daddy on the phone, and send e-mails to him.

“You are not as important to me as the mail, the messages, the dinner, the phone call or the neighbor. I love you, but I’m too busy for you-and there’s always later, there’s always tomorrow.”

Read more at Dads Today

posted by sunnyday at 10:30 AM

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