Around a week ago, I came home and caught a movie on HBO titled Julie/Julia. And although I have heard about it, it was actually the first time that I saw the movie. Julie/Julia was the story of a private writer named Julie during the early days of blogging, who intended to go through a year of following the recipes of Julia Child, an icon and pioneer in introducing proper French cuisine into American households through cookbooks and eventually through television. As I caught the show around the 15th or 20th minute, I could not quite follow the “whys” of the story, or why Julie would choose to do this particular project, for an entire year, while virtually doing an “open diary” of her experience on a blog. Blog writers write without any clear reassurance as to the makeup of their audience, and are basically just airing out their mind, hoping that the waft reaches people who are similarly situated, sympathetic, or able to empathize with the writer’s flow of thought. Julie’s writing apparently touched a chord with a lot of people, and so the project became much bigger than her. I have also had a similar experience when I wrote about the passing of my beloved Chubby, receiving comments, posts, email, and text messages from people who had experienced pain in a similar way. And although everyone (and I mean everyone) who went through that blog post shed a tear (most spent the better part of an hour in that state) in the end we all felt collectively stronger from the shared experience. Incidentally, up to now, that blog post is still consistently registering the highest hit, with an audience base spanning three continents.
About two months after that, I received a series of “urgent” text messages from my team regarding a photo project they knew I absolutely had to know about. They chanced upon a message from a pet lover who wanted to have her baby’s 1st birthday party documented. And this is her story.
If it is alright with everyone, I shall hide her by the name of Julia, which is actually just one vowel away from her true name. Julia goes by with a two-name first name, and her second first name is an abbreviation of my mother’s name. Her baby’s name is Ashley, which I shall not hide anymore, because it is such a beautiful name for a baby. Ashley celebrated her 1st birthday sometime in October last year, and like most Filipino families now, got a party to celebrate it. (not that one-year-olds would actually be concerned with a birthday party….) Now, in anticipation of Ashley’s birthday, Julia wanted to get the best portrait photographer that money can buy so that she can gift Ashley with the most beautiful image possible. And so, through my diligent team, it came to my attention towards the end of the day. They showed me Julia’s private email message (to an email account in my name, but managed by my team) and they braced for what they knew was coming.
Julia, relatively newly married (perhaps two, maybe three years) to a guy she adored (and perhaps the only person she had loved) was learning that marriage reveals more about the character of your chosen one other than what you thought you already knew. She tells me how the word possessive took on another meaning when she would be left inside their lovenest, locked inside until her husband would come back. Actually, the word possessive came from me, from my inference of the action done. Julia was locked in and virtually alone until they had Ashley; but more on that in a while. A person in love will not usually see the strangeness of things, or events, that others normally would. In fact, people in relationships will not usually see the red flags until the ship has capsized. None of us would, if we were in Julia’s shoes. Eventually things came to a head and then one day Julia was told by her husband that “it was over.” She woke up to a letter with her name on it. He had sold everything they owned, and that she had to leave the following day. He had sold everything, including Ashley, their chow chow puppy. In the blink of an eye, the world had ended for Julia; ended by the man she had entrusted the rest of her life to. In the blink of an eye, Ashley, whom she had known as a daughter who entrusted her life to Julia, was suddenly also taken away; sold by her husband for reasons I do not know. In the blink of an eye, I felt all her pain. But more than the pain, I felt the sense of betrayal bit more strongly than any other feeling she, and now I, felt. The worst thing that can happen is not just to “lose everything”, but to have to “lose everything, alone”. Ashley was her emotional companion; the thing which made everything a little easier to bear. Losing everything was definitely made more terrible with losing Ashley as well.
Ashley was acquired by her husband fairly recently, from a family of show winners. Ashley, being the runt of the litter and possessing a disqualification or two, was always passed over by potential buyers. Her husband, on the lookout for something of value to possess, but not intending to pay the appropriate value, saw an opportunity in Ashley, at a bargain basement price. Julia only saw the child she longed for in Ashley, and to her nothing else mattered. For people who have had the opportunity to raise a chow chow from infancy, it is not uncommon to treat them as if they were their child; maybe the analogy would be made clearer if I said “as if they were raising an only child”. Ashley was Julia’s only child. With Ashley, life as Julia knew it then became more bearable each time she came home. Until that fateful moment when she woke to a letter bearing her name and crushing her world. In an instant she was crushed in exactly the way you would have been, had it been your name on the letter. Distraught at losing everything, but more distraught at the thought of permanently losing her child, Julia, through actions only a mother could muster, mobilized a network of friends who must have been the most resourceful bunch of people to help find to whom Ashley was sold. I understand it took three days to find her. Julia tells me of their reunion, and how Ashley gave her the longest three minutes of her life, barking, as if asking her how she could have let this happen the way it did. Ashley, her child, made Julia, the mother, feel the sense of betrayal she felt when she was taken away so suddenly. And after the longest three minutes of their lives, both mother and daughter reconnected with the promise to never let anything separate them again. Never.
In our private messages, Julia has told me that she had stood at the edge of her world several times already. I replied that at least when she was at the edge, she had Ashley there beside her. I said she was still lucky. Other people who also had stood at the edge, have had their Ashleys taken away right when they were staring at the abyss. I think Julia understood me when I said “I perfectly understood” how she felt.
Ashley’s birthday came and went, and things settled down. I desperately tried to recover her second email, which entailed hacking the email account set up by my team for me. I was so affected by her story (exactly like my team predicted I would be) because I knew that the grief I felt with Chubby’s passing would somehow be reduced if I knew that this other baby named Ashley would be able to nurture her mother back. And she has.
Julia had told me last week that “maybe it is time for you to get another chow”. She has been the only one to tell me that. I reply that I cannot afford another chow chow. I meant I do not think I can ever take the emotional grief of losing, once more. It would be too expensive emotionally, and I cannot, absolutely cannot handle that again.
It will not be accurate to simply say that Julia is a strong person, in the way that mass media portrays strong persons to always remain that way; strong, through all sorts of adversities. I will say instead that Julia has shown a massive amount of strength, in spite of all the adversities that life has thrown her way. She says that you have to go through life in anticipation that tomorrow will already bring an ounce of improvement, while preparing for that improvement right now. I do not adequately capture the words she used, but she had said it to me, in a way that made it mean a whole lot to me when she said it three days ago.
Julia is a kindred spirit; someone I understood right away because of commonalities I saw. In fact, one of the very first things I said to Julia was that “we had more things in common that what she thinks”.
Perhaps I should in turn understand that “Julia perfectly understands” me as well. Thank you for each day of strength you display. I just hope you are the first person to read this. Some day, I hope to eventually meet Ashley, so I can take the greatest portrait I have ever taken.
Jesus Paul C. Yan
For The Paul Yan Chronicles
01:25 am, March 6, 2011
Ps1 thank you to my PYE team, Sini & Manilyn, for spotting her advert and
starting this chain of events.
Ps2 Ashley, stop chewing the new curtains.
Ps3 chow chows are excellent companion dogs. Please do not buy them simply for
show; but because you are genuinely committed to taking care of them,
throughout their lives.
Ps4 If you are a chow owner, please post a small picture, or a link where we can
see your chow.
the following pictures of Ashley have been posted on behalf of Julia.
