RIP Covey

When I was a little girl, this was the most expensive item in every sari-sari store in our neighborhood. I could never afford this yummy Yan-Yan. In fact, if not for the blessed hearts of some generous classmates, I wouldn't have tasted these happy sticks until 2001 (when I started working).

I'm not crazy about the biscuit nor the chocolate dip. I've had, continue to have, better purchases from Meiji.   However, I have not gotten over the emotional attachment with this fun snack. All the years of waiting, longing and wanting still drives me to pick up one to three cups from grocery racks - every single time I see them. The mysterious connection got even stronger after I gave birth. Psycho, pathetic, script: my little girl will have all the Yan-Yan she wants for as long as we can afford it.

The Hubby tried to stop me from getting some Yan-Yan earlier this afternoon, at the grocery. We already had so many packs of biscuits, cookies and chocolates in the shopping cart when he saw me throw in four little Yan-Yan's. I'm glad he gave in because I got so close to crying - pang in the chest present - when tried to stop me.

Next stop, Soy Sauce


I cook everyday. And like most people who cook this much, I get attached to certain products. The subject of my little drama in the grocery is Silver Swan's soy sauce.

After a bad experience with a huge kickass bottle of soy sauce, I vowed never to buy them big containers anymore. The stench from the bottle, after almost a year of storage, still haunts me. After this terrible experience, I found something I learned to love. Silver Swan in a 1L bottle. I loved the bottle (can't find any photos online) because of the hand grip. And it's ribbed, like a big mineral water bottle.

Cooking is a spiritual experience. And given that I'm a very tactile person, I find bliss when everything I touch feels "in harmony" with my hands. Hence the love for Silver Swan.

What we found out, this afternoon, though was disappointing. It's more expensive, by PhP12.00, than Datu Puti. My husband's very expense-conscious. He would never budge until I'm able to explain that something's worth the extra funds slipping away from our pocket. In summary, I was not able to defend my Silver Swan.

This broke my heart. My love was taken away from me.

RIP Covey


And so this is really what this post is about. Covey's message has been clear in all his works about listening and empathy - seek to understand, then be understood. My husband's a good man and I totally understand his financial management guru-self. I guess it will be a little easier for me though, if I'm assured that my psycho connection to these little material things are clearly understood before I'm pushed to accept the value of money over emotions.

I'm blogging this now because I feel that I can no longer have conversations inside my head with Mr. Covey. But I know that this temporary feeling is wrong. Now that he's gone, I even have more legitimate reasons to talk to him, as if in prayer.

RIP Mr. Covey. Next to Bob Greenleaf, you're the grandfather I never had.