elis

Gee, that was a hard decision!

Mind you, I have cooked dinner, baked banana bread (from scratch), washed up, showered, washed and hung laundry, sorted out my bills, cleaned up… I am running out of things to do! Blogging is my last result and that’s after pouring in an hour over Sustainability… *snore*

Admittedly, I am not hating this course. Not that Banking and Financial Services are my calling or anything, but it certainly isn’t the torturous affair I thought it would be…but it is early days yet! Ha! Apparently we hit the driest subject first, which is Financial Legislation so surely, it could only get less than snoozy from here. I am loving the class, and who I get to share it with. I am certainly getting to know more people in the business, which I confess was one of the main reasons why I applied for the course.

This week was a Mentoring free week, as we have just transitioned to fortnightly sessions after three weeks straight of getting to know your Mentor/Mentee. We’re off to Taronga Zoo next Tuesday for an evening at the Zoo. It’ll be fun for the kids and a great opportunity for us to hang with them in a less structured way. A glimpse of what the Ski Trip in July may be like.

It’s been almost two weeks since Colour. Priscilla Shirer, Beth Moore and Christine Caine’s messages certainly made an impact. Sometimes I wonder if circumstances surrounding or during Colour is never ideal and is always somewhat challenging because it distracts so much from what you are meant to hear.

Maybe that’s the best spin I can put on the inevitability…

Work has been incredibly chaotic, but I do love it despite the ‘sandpaper’ people and situations. I mean at the end of the day, nothing can ever top HSBC for the most challenging place to work. I don’t think it’s at all coincidental that ING Directs main aim to is to make our working environment Cool, Fair and Easy. I think today, for the first time I enjoyed a one on one session and felt like it had direction.

Though it has to be said, I do miss my HSBC Crew. Char, Senali, Sean, Megamind (and Wifey – she count)…what can I say, our experiences have bound us together. Haha! I love that I have been able to catch up with three of you in the last week. Megamind, we have to set something up soon.

Dinner and a casual hang with Jes ended up being an impromtu Slumber Party on Friday night! Sooo fun! Felt like we were teenagers again. We did miss the other two from our little foursome, but we have plans to make up for it in the next couple of weeks when we take Jes to her Stand Up paddle boarding lesson. Well, seeing as we are all participating, I guess that makes it OUR boarding lesson. It’s not Hawaii, but baby steps! =)

I guess I have wasted enough time, so I’ll go back to the thrilling world of Sustainability! All this research for 1000 words. It’s been way too long since I have written an essay, here’s hoping I remember how!

Financial Legislation turned out to not be so boring after all… now that it’s done it makes me not be so anxious about the coming months. With a Coach locked in and an unofficial Mentor in the midst as a back up just to bounce of to, I am feeling a little more confident, excited even. I may even work on it before the last week. Ha!

Two weeks of Information Sessions, another two weeks of Training, a Launch and Three Mentoring Sessions later, I am feeling as though I am finding my feet with the Ignition Mentoring Program. Hand on heart I adore my fifteen year old Mentee. So smart, so resilient, cheeky as can be and just loveable. The week long Ski Trip in July is going to be fun.

Between the Mentoring Program and the Cert IV, my life is crazier and busier than ever before, but I am loving it. Between the course and mentoring program, I am feeling like I am finally finding my feet at work. Finding my own friends, and not that I didn’t already have one of my kick ass besties with me, but it’s different to know my own set of peeps, and be a part of something amazing, and have the opportunity to upskill at the same time.

Admittedly I am loving this No Facebook existence. It’s liberating. It also speaks volumes… I may just remain in this Facebook-less existence.

there was a time before facebook this was my forum…

it was my companion during my travels, a close friend during my sorrows.

then facebook surfaced, and it simply put, it was just easier.

these days facebook is every where. gone were the polite social graces of not handling your phone while you were in the company of others. it became acceptable to be in mid conversation while the person you were in conversation with would check their news feed. though i have been guilty of this myself…in the recent days, it has become a pet hate. there is nothing worse than being in a ‘catch up’ and the attention of whom you’re catching up with is focused on their phone. i found it’s usually where i switched off. time is precious, especially these days, and if you don’t make the most of it, it’s just a waste.

it’s become acceptable to check in to your friend’s profile pages to see the recent happenings of their lives instead of picking up the phone and calling. people assumed that because the saw your latest post, that they are abreast with the goings on in your life. it’s become acceptable to deem that as enough.

so as a personal choice, for now, for a time somewhat indefinitely i have deactivated my facebook account. i thought i’d give this world of blogging a go again. i’m looking forward to it…

To say that the month of July was a whopper would be an understatement. I was approaching July with a nonchalant attitude of my upcoming 31st birthday, after all, 31 was just another year and it was the year my friends and I agreed after a huge blow out on out 30’s that this year, it would be low key. No fuss, no biggie. That was the plan.

As June drew to a close I had noticed that my childhood posse and I seldom saw each other and that we were all experiencing a need to just chill, relax and just enjoy in each other’s company. We were all at the ends of our ropes wanting a change, needing a break from the norm that had become our lives.

July came and started with the conference, 4:30 wake up calls were less than to be desired for, but there was an expectation in my heart, that something was stirring, and there was preparation for something, what, I had no idea.
Conference was an experience, an experience that completely challenged me and changed my perspective, about many things. It made me question and re-enforce what I was doing and who I was doing it for.

Conference finished and I was exhausted, physically, mentally, and spiritually. For once, I was home early from church, not hanging around as what had become the norm, and I started baking, a somewhat therapeutic pastime I have picked up. At ten that evening, my world was shaken in a similar and traumatic way that it was less than three years ago.
I received a phone call that left me shocked, distraught and devastated…Ate Nora had passed away unexpectedly at the age of 41.

Ate Nora, when I look back on my late teen years and early twenties, there was not one event in my life that did not somehow include Ate Nora and her family. As Ate Rose’s sister, she had adopted me from the moment go, and welcomed me so lovingly into their family fold. As the youngest in our family, she referred to me as Bunzi, as I grew up side by side with her children, I was the ‘panganay’ (eldest) which earned me the reigning title of ‘Ate’ (older sister) to her kids instead of ‘Tita’ (Aunt) which I technically was.

When I was asked to do her Eulogy, I wasn’t quite sure if I held the right to do it as in the last couple of years, we seldom saw each other, and sporadically spoke on the phone. As I moved away and came back, as I grew older, things had changed, but the one thing that never did, was her promise that regardless of time, distance, and frequency that we saw or spoke to each other, that my place in her life, in their family would never change, that I will always have a place. As I found letters we exchanged so many years before, it was a promise that she started with, and it was the one she ended with. I don’t know if she truly knew just how much having her in my life had meant to me.

Saying goodbye was truly difficult and there are moments when I think it was all a part of a dream. I can’t believe tomorrow it will be a month, it seems cruel that life has the audacity to move on even after we lose those we love so much. It’s like you’re stuck in a bubble where you’re screaming and no one can hear you, and no one quite gets it.
Losing Ate Nora was like losing my Mom all over again, in that realization that she isn’t there for me to turn to at such a time. How she really isn’t here anymore, if that at all makes sense. In the last few weeks, we lost Ate Nora, I ended up with a Swine Flu leaving me confined to my bed and couch for two weeks, we lost Tito Nedy, and Nigel’s Mum.
As I look at Nigel, my heart breaks for him, as it did for Alvien, Nyssa, and Aleissa. No matter how much anything hurts from that moment on, nothing hurts as much as losing your mother, for she was the one who gave birth to you, and knew you from the moment she knew you existed in her womb.

In these last weeks I have never wanted my Mom as much as I have recently. As I question my own strength and coping mechanism, I wonder if I have truly learned or grown in the last three years. Surely, falling apart shouldn’t come so easily. Surely, I had gotten stronger. Surely this overwhelming feeling of floundering that was once so familiar will pass.

I know that my Mom will forever live on, and as that darn Josh Groban song goes, she will always be ‘my forever love’ and she is watching from heaven working side by side with God, some days that’s enough, and other days, not so much.
I press on to God as hard as I can, for I know it’s all I can really do and simply trust that this valley will pass. The last few weeks have frightened me to no end, the road seems familiar and I swear I’ve seen that tree before. So I hold on to what I know, firmly and definitively, God, my family, my friends. I trust whole heartedly in God’s plan and pray that I am co-operating as I am supposed to.

Has it truly been over six months since I last posted? Weird. I always have these random thoughts and think to myself I should blog, and the whole thought always seem so daunting that I never begin. Talk about pressure!

So this year has been in an essence, CHAOTIC, but somewhat with direction… I emphasize on the somewhat there. Along with the definitive confirmation that I am to stay in Sydney and plant my feet, I have also picked up Bible College, which was a lot harder to do than I thought it would be. Then again I was stupid and decided to take a full semester load while juggling nightshift and the basic chaos that is my life, but I know better for next semester. It’s all about lessons learned I say.  I like learning my lessons the hard way it seems… “hmm that tree looks familiar”

A lot has changed. Dare I say even I have (in some ways and in others, not so much). It feels like the last six months have been about closing doors to seasons well passed, and setting boundaries where there clearly wasn’t one before. Getting my answers and confirmations seem to take less time, even if my action time is just as slow. See some things never really change.

Mom’s death Anniversary passed somewhat quickly, kind of like ripping off a band aid kind of thing. We find that the 10th is a lot harder than the 11th, even if the 11th is hard enough. The siblings and I tend to keep to ourselves on the 11th and just hang. It is then I remember the bond that exists between us. The way we unconsciously gravitate towards each other, is comforting more than words can possibly express.

The 10th was spent at home. After a somewhat emotional beginning to the week, I knew there was no way I would survive a week at work so I asked for the 10th and the 11th off. Thank God, they said yes. I guess a blubbering emotional creature is hard to say no to. A friend had taken the day off from work to keep me occupied during the day time, and endless DVD’s entertained me in the evening. My darling brother was away in Adelaide, so it was me, myself and I at home. Had I thought about it, I probably would have organized to stay at my Ats as we were up chatting on Skype till 3 in the morning anyway.

On the 11th we were late to Mass, and I am sure my mother was rolling her eyes as we made our way into the Mass service minutes away from it finishing. Afterwards we hung out at Tita Pat’s for awhile before heading to the cemetery where the graves were being blessed. It was miserable rainy day, and we stood there in the pouring rain awaiting Father John. The weather expressed how I guess we were all feeling. Dreary!!

After the cemetery my Ats, Ate Lei and I made our way to the airport to pick up Brother. Having Ate Lei with us that day was comforting, and she certainly brought humour to a potentially unlaughable day. I declare thee BBJ (BiBuJnr). We went to the mall in search of Christmas Lights to replace the ones my Mother loved dearly, but was potentially a fire hazard. Finally after numerous trips here, there and everywhere, we went back to the first store we hit. Along with lights we ended up with Rudy (the inflatable Reindeer that is now part of the family, not to mention the fact that Ats and Ate Lei have joint custody of Rudy). We also ended up with a Santa Bubble Blowing Machine whose noise is too loud and obnoxious, but he’s fun all the same.

There was hesitation in me to put the tree up. A part of me wanted to put it up on my own, while the other didn’t want to put it up at all. For a moment, I could almost forget and await for my mother to pop up from nowhere pointing out whether or not I have missed a part or she thought a certain ornament was out of place. In the end, the tree went up, and I did a lot of stringing, while Sue and Glenda put the decorations up.

At the cemetery as my sister and I were left alone to say our goodbye’s there was a strong whiff of my mother’s favourite smell, sampaguita. Which isn’t exactly a common smell in Australia, but there it was. It was comforting to know she was there. Though I often dream with her in it, but this was different.

Christmas plans are under negotiations. I am working Christmas, New Years Eve and New Years Day, all shifts finishing at 10, which pretty much sucks but what can you do. I was looking forward to a quiet Christmas, where the siblings and I just get to hang out together, as we have grown accustomed to the last couple of years since Mom’s death. Christmas and New Years is particularly hard as my Mother was a huge Christmas and New Years person. The shopping for presents, preparing for a Christmas Feast at our house, family night New Years Eve with the banging of Pots and Pans as it hits midnight and watching the fireworks from the front lawn. Needless to say the siblings and I have a tendency to take comfort in hibernating together. It’s become a tradition, and at a season where there is very little comfort, our being together is comforting. Doing nothing together, just hanging.

My brother and I are driving my Dad to Melbourne come Boxing Day evening so that he can visit with Tita Nene who is coming to visit. Seeing as he is currently on dialysis it is a little disappointing that he was expected to catch a train for twelve hours. The man can barely sit up for a couple of hours at a time but it’s okay for him to catch a train. A plane ride is somewhat out of the question as he needs to cart around his dialysis. Admittedly I am a little angry, no let me rephrase that, I am a lot angry that they would even allow him to entertain the idea of taking the train. Even if he offered, and I am sure he did.  But has anyone thought for a moment how hard that would be for him to travel? I am not angry about having to drive him, seeing Ate Alma, Ate Gigi and the kids will certainly be a plus. After everything we have been through, and how much they’ve just been there for us, seeing them is always something we look forward to. What I resent is the almost expectation that we will do the right thing, that despite the fact that this season for us is hard enough, we will drive for almost twelve hours to drive my father to Melbourne, because our Mother brought us up right. Where does the line of selfishness get drawn? If finances were an issue, fine we will make some way to buy the ticket if need be. There seems to be this idea that just because we grew up here, and we are working that money comes easily. Everything we have, my mother worked for. What she instilled upon us, we put into practice and we all work hard. We have a house, we each have a car, and we have things that I know we are lucky to have, but to think we have not worked hard for them, and that they came handed to us in a platter, makes me mad. Each of us have been working since we were 16, we worked and went to school full time. When we got home, we were still expected to lift our weight, yes my mother shouldered most of the housework, but she had set expectations and responsibilities for us at home too. My mother worked three jobs to provide us with everything we need, in turn we learned to work just as hard. Both my brother and my sister practically live in their offices. Ate manages her own business as well as work full time. She is constantly tired and lacking of sleep. Wherever the perception of glamour came from when it comes to our lives, is sorely misguided. I am on a stinky train at all hours of the day in the night depending on what shift I manage to land that month. I pull overtime every chance I get, not because it’s fun, but because it’s necessary. We live comfortably, but everything has a price. As siblings we have limited time together. My brother and I live in the same house and we are like two ships passing most of the time. Yes we grew up here, and yes we have managed to do well for our lives, but how dare anyone think for one moment that we lived a life or silver spoon privilege.

Since Mom died, I’ve had to learn a few things. Certain knowledge I could have done without. Perceptions were lost and it became clear very early on who was really there for us. Who truly cared for us, and had our best interest at heart. Hard lessons to learn when you’ve held people up so high on a pedastle and they don’t even bother to get in touch with you when your mother dies.

I have at least a week to pray hard for an attitude adjustment, because at this point I am so angry and disappointed that I may actually reflect it.

I miss my Mom, and the last thing I want to do is be in a car worried that my insomniac brother will end up micro sleeping as we drive such a long distance. All I want to be is at home and I hate that even though we have a choice, we really don’t.

It’s not my Dad’s fault, he wants to see his sister and that’s fair play. I have my own siblings whom if I’ve been separated from for years I would love to see in a heartbeat. I know what that feels like. The man’s in the middle of dialysis, and yes we all still have issues with him, but at the end of the day we would not want any harm come his way. So I find it hard to believe and quite frankly I am disappointed that he would be allowed to consider such a foolish idea. Even if we are driving him, he’s not going to be comfortable being in a confined space for twelve hours. Was it too much to ask to maybe think outside the bubble in which one lives?

I realize what worms I will open should this blog find it’s way to certain family members, but this is my blog where my personal thoughts reside, and I shouldn’t have to filter, and I won’t.
…which is why I am removing all alerts from now on…

I am looking forward to spending time with the family, my Posse and Boyfriends. I wish my Mom was still around to drive around the neighborhood with to check out all the lights, prepare for Christmas with, and just be around. Tita Pat and Aunty Esty are great to have and they have certainly adopted the three orphans as their own, but it’s not the same.

I am thirty years old and I want my Mommy!

i always thought, in the back of my mind that somehow, it would be easier. after all, it is the second year. i quickly realised as this last weekend drew to a close and the memories began to already haunt me, that i was wrong. in a lot of ways, it is worse this year than it was last year. perhaps because we were better prepared last year, and there was planning to be done, while this time around, there’s nothing. just memories, flash backs. the worst moments of your life on a torturous repeat playback.

I was sitting here for a few minutes trying to come up with a title, and nothing was coming, so I thought I may as well just dive right in.

Its nice to be back home. The trip was awesome on the whole, for reasons I could only appreciate in hind sight. To be in South Africa was something I would never have thought or ever imagined I would do, and to be there with friends and see Tamsin after a couple of years, made it all the more special. I remember stepping out of the doors and the first person I saw was Ashe, and my eyes quickly discovered Mei, Dani, and Shirley. Greeting each other certainly was kodak moment. It was great to be able to share Mei’s special day with her, even if it techincally was her second wedding! =)

Being back in London, and being back at church, it felt like I never left. It was still ‘Welcome Home’, but as I disembarked that plane at Heathrow that Monday morning, I knew it my heart that my season in London was over. That in some ways, it will always be home, for all that it represented in my life, but it no longer was where I was meant to be.

It was so nice to see old friends and old faces, and meet new ones. Visiting old stomping grounds for the sake on sentimentality brought comfort in many ways, for I think I knew in my heart, I was saying goodbye to a huge part of me. Now I know that it’s not the last time I will be in London, and certainly if the plans for Greece with the girls actually comes to pass, I would more than likely pass London, but this trip I felt was about closing doors that needed to be closed. Walking through Leicester Square brought me back to many memories, from movie Saturdays ‘Hillsong Life’, to Ben & Jerry moments. Shopping at Picadilly Circus, Oxford Street and Bond Street. Strolling Covent Garden… discovering amazing things like ‘Candy Cakes’ … how fun was that afternoon Crystal? Being back at church… it was like a present from God. Being able to close seasons and chapters of my life the way I got to. Not to say it was at all easy, and it certainly wasn’t. I learned many things I could have gone on not knowing. Although I had fun, I have to admit that each day was hard in it’s own way. Like something was hanging above my head, something I could not control. Like this feeling that everything was a fight, but you didn’t quite know why.

My Mom’s birthday fell on Conference Night, coincidence? I think not. I was distracted on and off throughout the day, and the significance of the day didn’t hit the fan till that night, and it hit full force. Though my sister and I had the talk the day before as it turned midnight in Sydney, and I had anticipated how hard the day would be, it hit me like a ton of bricks just as we were finishing up conference that evening and escalated when we got home from conference. I have never felt so far away from home before. Being in London could almost give you that false pretense that nothing had happened, and all was the same as when I was last there, but I knew it was. I knew that when I got off that plane in Sydney, my mother would not be there to greet me as she was last time. As my token ‘boyfriends’ talked me off my proverbial ledge that night, I realised that although it was always going to hurt, it was slowly getting better. That for the most part, we have all made our peace with it, in our own way. That it was okay to have a hard moment, especially on certain days. I could see where a bandaid was placed where an open wound used to be. Though there are scars that will never heal, looking at those scars will one day bring comfort from what one has been delivered from. Not a day that goes by that I don’t think of my Mother, there are days, and though they are few and far between, there are days when it doesn’t hurt so much that she’s not around. Then there are days when it hurts as much as it did almost two years ago. I think we’ve all learned to manouver those days to the best of our ability.

I realised that as I went through the front door today, as my eyes fell to the place where the worst image in my head was taken, it was never going to be erased from my mind, regardless how we all try to avoid using the front door. So, as of today, I am no longer afraid to use the front door. That my memories, though at times I fear they are fading, outweighs one memory I have been so afraid of for so long.

i know, i know…

i’ve been travelling for weeks now and no email. aside from the limited, close to no internet access, i do not have everyone’s email address on my dopod, which is where i am doing most of my communicating. sorry!!!!

so south africa was a whirlwind… but an experience all the same. it was great to see tam and ashe again. being in south africa itself was surreal. to be in kruger park was such an amazing experience. mei looked absolutely beautiful on her wedding day, and as only mei can pull off, she giggled all the way through her vows.

we spent a couple of days by the beach. a minor tan was achieved, but my legs remained casper-like. cest la vie! =)

i’ve been in london for a few days, and it’s been a great catching up with friends and seeing old faces.

more update later….

To say that the month of July was eventful, would be an understatement. What was to be a month long of celebrations, didn’t quite pan as expected.

On the 12th of July my sister and I had our combined birthday celebrations, which turned out to be more for my 30th than our combined celebration. Special occasion are always difficult, knowing that a vital presence will always be missing, and that from that fateful day in 2006, my mother would never be a part of any occasion, regardless how big or little the milestone. That thought in itself makes one not really want to celebrate. For recognition of the occasion only brings forward what you learn to force out of your conscious mind, that she is gone. My sister, being the Ate and doting older sister that she is, made it a point that my 30th was celebrated, and with a bang. We often joke it’s because she feels sorry for me, because I am almost an orphan, but truth of the matter is, I know she was trying to fill a void. For which I appreciate. My cousins, cousin in law, nieces and nephew, came up for the occasion, and words cannot describe what their presence meant. Ate Alma and Ate Gigi were a huge part of our childhoods and having them such a huge part of my adulthood is something I cherish. Our families have remained close knit, loyal and ever present. It remains true and unshakeable. The day of the party had it’s hitches, but all in all it was an incredibly awesome day spent with those closest to me. People in my life, whom in the last few years have remained. Some were new, and some were old, but each person I had invited and were there was and is significant in my life, each a part of the journey of my thirty years, whether for decades, years, or months.

The weekend of my birthday was spent with my girlfriends, an impromptu moment had us at a friend’s house for a much needed, somewhat ordained get together. The very next day Jes picked me up for a well planned evening with Ann and Mer. They had planned a weekend of Posse Fun, an evening I later found out they had planned for a very long time. It was great to be with them, and just be me. Over a decade of friendship gives much licence. Spoilt, doesn’t even come close to describe all that was planned, not just by the Posse, but by other friends also. I was blessed and I know it.

Unfortunately, a couple days after my birthday, my grandmother who was taken to hospital that Friday, passed away in her sleep, at home, where we were all convinced she was going to pull through as she always did before. I remember clearly coming home from Night Shift that Wednesday morning, excited and packing for my upcoming weekend in Melbourne with Jes, and I couldn’t sleep. When I finally did, I got the call from my sister to tell me to drive to Tita Pat’s house because Nanay had passed. There was a moment of disbelief and it certainly did not immediately register. When I got off the phone, I jumped in the shower, shocked, literally shocked. It felt like everything went on slow motion and I remember in the pit of my stomach all I could feel is ‘not again’.

I love my grandmother, my earliest memories of her include her taking me to school in kindergarten, and later on after we moved here to Sydney she used to wait for me on the other side of the crossing after school finished so we could walk home together, and when we got home, there was always a snack waiting for me. As all mother’s do, when my grandmother knew you liked something, she either bought it, or cooked it repeatedly till you were so over it. I know it was one of the ways she showed us her love. My grandmother, though loving in her own way, wasn’t your huggable granny, she was often ‘makulit’ and had that stern look in her face, but she was my grandmother. I guess the hardest part of having to say good bye to her was the fact that she looked exactly like my mother in those last moments as we said good bye to her. I felt so guilty that as I tried to mourn for my grandmother, all I kept having were flash backs of almost two years ago when were making the same plans, same decisions for my Mom. One of the worst memories I have isn’t an image, but a sound, and that is the rustling of the body bag as they came to take my Mom away. Therefore you can imagine my heart on the floor as they came to pick up my grandmother from the house. Not only could we hear that familiar rustle, but seeing her being brought out, was like a nightmare unfolding.

My grandmother has been unwell since 1996, after being severely burned on a third of her body. We didn’t think she would make it back then either, and they prepared us for the worst, but after a lot of care, she pulled through, proving what a strong and stubborn woman that she was. For the next 12 years there has been multiple scares, moments when we were told to be prepared, and we were. So you can well imagine our disbelief when she had passed away.

For the days that followed, arrangements were made. Aunty Esty flew down from the States once more. Sr Adele was also able to come, accompanied by Tita Elsie and Ate Ellen, who certainly brought the support needed and much appreciated. Those days prior to the funeral just passed as a blur. I dreaded the prayers in the evening most of all, as it felt like a de ja vue that I wasn’t willing to revisit. My heart raced as they began to sing the familiar songs, and utter the same prayers, more often than not my siblings and I said our mother’s name out loud in the prayers, almost a force of habit. Needless to say after the first couple of nights, we managed to fall back and not be in the room during the prayers. In the same way we found comfort in not standing in the room during the viewing. It all felt too familiar.

My grandmother was buried on the 1st of August, 9 days after she passed. Again, as a family we gathered and paid our last respects. As sad as it is that she is now gone, at least she is not suffering, more than that, it comforts me to know that she is with my Mother and they’re taking care of each other.