+ Follow BENETTON AND SEGUE Tag
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[Title] => The real ones
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[DatePublished] => 2007-07-22 00:00:00
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[AuthorID] => 1773484
[AuthorName] => Tingting Cojuangco
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[Title] => Mai, here and there
[Summary] => Waiting… getting used to Mai’s absence. She finally arrives from Italy and leaves me waiting all over again when she leaves to return with Andrea, her husband, the man with a girls’ name, to Florence.
Happy-sad, or bittersweet: this must be how mothers of overseas workers feel. Every time my daughter comes to town, I am determined to relax and chat with her for some time. I do. Yet time is elusive and too fast. We laugh. We read together. We lie down beside each other; just the feeling she’s beside me warms my heart.
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[Title] => Mai, here and there
[Summary] => Waiting… getting used to Mai’s absence. She finally arrives from Italy and leaves me waiting all over again when she leaves to return with Andrea, her husband, the man with a girls’ name, to Florence.
Happy-sad, or bittersweet: this must be how mothers of overseas workers feel. Every time my daughter comes to town, I am determined to relax and chat with her for some time. I do. Yet time is elusive and too fast. We laugh. We read together. We lie down beside each other; just the feeling she’s beside me warms my heart.
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[ColumnID] => 133272
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BENETTON AND SEGUE
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[Title] => Mai, here and there
[Summary] => Waiting… getting used to Mai’s absence. She finally arrives from Italy and leaves me waiting all over again when she leaves to return with Andrea, her husband, the man with a girls’ name, to Florence.
Happy-sad, or bittersweet: this must be how mothers of overseas workers feel. Every time my daughter comes to town, I am determined to relax and chat with her for some time. I do. Yet time is elusive and too fast. We laugh. We read together. We lie down beside each other; just the feeling she’s beside me warms my heart.
[DatePublished] => 2006-03-12 00:00:00
[ColumnID] => 133272
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[Title] => Mai, here and there
[Summary] => Waiting… getting used to Mai’s absence. She finally arrives from Italy and leaves me waiting all over again when she leaves to return with Andrea, her husband, the man with a girls’ name, to Florence.
Happy-sad, or bittersweet: this must be how mothers of overseas workers feel. Every time my daughter comes to town, I am determined to relax and chat with her for some time. I do. Yet time is elusive and too fast. We laugh. We read together. We lie down beside each other; just the feeling she’s beside me warms my heart.
[DatePublished] => 2006-03-12 00:00:00
[ColumnID] => 133272
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[AuthorID] => 1773484
[AuthorName] => Tingting Cojuangco
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abtest
