Almost Grasped, But Not Quite

I can’t believe I’m sitting here at home, laptop in front of me, and blogging away… on a Saturday!

During the last three months, I haven’t felt my weekends. It’s either I’m meeting a deadline, haunting the malls, having coffee with friends, or sitting inside a bus bound for home.

This is the first time in three months that I’m at home here in Makati, practically doing nothing. And somehow, it really feels good.

To stop and linger.
————

I saw Kel! (Hi, Kel! I know you’ll be reading this.) That’s not so new but we realized we haven’t seen each other for quite sometime now. The last time we saw each other was with Candice and Anj at Starbucks. When?… We can’t even remember.

Going through my blog’s archives, I found my post about that coffee night. It was October 16, 2005. 2005! It was the celebration of your birthday on that October morning and the confession, confession in the evening. Gano’n na ba talaga katagal?!

Anyway, I enjoyed our dinner. Who wouldn’t? I mean it was Amici di Don Bosco’s Fettuccini and Montanara pasta and Tutta Carne pizza. Yum! Yum! And of course, the long (way long…) conversation we had with Anj and Ramil over my latte, your Banana Mocha frappe and the "lovers’" Caramel frappes.

It’s really funny. We’re now talking about WORK. Argh! Of course, I wouldn’t write about what we talked about since it’s about WORK nga. Hahaha! I’m glad we found the time, though. ‘Til the next coffee night!

IVEE, CANDICE, PAO - Magpakita naman na kayo next time okei?! Pao, the coffee will be on you ha. Laki ng suweldo mo eh! Astig!

—————-

Blame it on my job that I became acquainted with the blogosphere… If you want to visit me online…
Have a cup of java when you want to know the real me. Consume me uninhibited and free…
Learn Jajaism 101 when you want to see me. Look through the lens of my camera phone.
Walk this path again. Stroll with me. Let’s retrace my steps through my creative outbursts.
Climb my Mt. Memories. I’m the goddess of my own sentimental realm. (still in the making)

It’s not my ultimate dream to dominate cyberspace. I don’t even dream of becoming a part of it. And I’m fascinated by people whose idea of popularity and fame is based on Google. You know the idea of "googling" your name and see how many searches it comes up. I haven’t tried mine. Honest. And please don’t bother.

Anyway, seven months into my tech job and I’m literally hooked on blogging. It’s funny how I write again when I stopped for a while.

But I’m not tired of the pen and paper. I’m such an old soul that I’ll never grow tired of these writing instruments. But somehow, with my schedule, I can’t find enough time to write using these. With the computer and the net, it’s easier to type away my ideas and thoughts.

———————————-

There’s no way I can bounce back immediately from
the happenings of those three months. There’s no easy way and I won’t
even try. I just want to thrive on the emotions for now.

From a father…

I didn’t grow up with my father beside me. Just like almost every Filipino, he got swept by the OFW fever during the early 90s, when the country was starting to field its best citizens to other countries. My father is one of those civil engineers who went to Saudi Arabia to provide his family of five children with everything.

The only thing I can remember about his leaving was the fact that I was in second grade and he promised to be back when I reach fifth grade. But of course, that didn’t happen. Education doesn’t stop in fifth grade. He saw me through college. Until now. My siblings aren’t through yet. But hopefully, they’re getting there.

I don’t want to say that he’s the best father in the world because a billion children will tell me their fathers are greater. That’s okay. I know the truth. Haha! I don’t want to go on enumerating testaments of how great he is as a father. Just look at me. Just look at how I (and my siblings) grew up. Hahahahaha! (Feeling!)

Papa is currently here with us now, but soon he’ll be leaving again. Maybe for Saudi, or Sudan this time. And I am not bitter about our situation. I was never bitter about it. I understand. From the very beginning.

——————

To another father…

I look at you and I see the same man who woke me up every day exactly at five o’clock in the morning.  And while I dragged myself downstairs, I can hear you ask me about tonight’s supper. (That early!) You served me semi-hot / semi-cold Milo (which was never a perfect blend but I got used to the taste anyway) and some soggy noodles. Now, I’m not so picky with food.

I look at you and I see the same man who walked with me to the highway and patiently waited with me at the shed for a mini bus. Sometimes, you even squinted your eyes just to see if the tiny light ahead, hidden by dawn fogs, was a bus or a truck. That’s six o’clock in the morning. Sharp. So I never got late for school. Now, I only have 16 minutes late at work. That’s the total of tardiness I have - seven months in the job!

I look at you and I see the same man who brought snacks home after your morning to noon visits to your hometown. And after you learned that Green Valley’s cinnamon bread is my favorite, you started buying that until I was gone. Now, it’s still one of my favorite breads in the whole, wide world. Simple things remain as my source of happiness.

I look at you and I see the same man who stopped smoking in an instant when an infant arrived at home. A sacrifice that I couldn’t understand, not until I learned about the withdrawal symptoms a long-time smoker like you undergoes after quitting. Remember the cross-stitched Ate gave you when you refused to give up Philip Morris? It was hung on the wall facing your favorite chair warning you everyday, "No Smoking Please." It’s still there even though it’s really of no use now. Nobody smokes in the house.

I look at you and I see the same man who cooked the meals we’ve grown to love. Who have tasted home-cooked meals at its best? Who can say that they have secret recipes for igado, dinuguan, and pancit? I’ve grown up loving these meals. And what I love the most is the fact that when we come home, you always serve us the best. As if we’re balikbayans. As if there’s always a fiesta. I now treasure every small "homecomings" and "reunions" that we have.

I look at you and I see the same man who argued that Erap is still the president of this country. And I laugh at the times you and I go on a word battle about his deeds. He was never a president to me and yet you continued to fight for him, even if everyone at home was on my side. Now I know why I’m so stubborn. I was trained by the best! Haha!

I look at you now and you can no longer do all those things. Not with the same strength as before but I’m sure, if you have it your way, you’ll do them over and over again. And this belief was sealed when I heard you sing your favorite song on the videoke with the same powerful, lively voice, despite of the illness that seized you momentarily away from us.

I look at you and I see the reason why I never believed that my teachers in school were my second parents. That’s only true if you’re not there.

——————

To another…

If there’s something I learned about fathers… they do everything for their children. Their children comes first. Always. And that is why I value everything about fatherhood.

I remembered a friend because of Father’s Day. I thought of greeting him on this day. But I know I couldn’t do it personally. I’ll greet him in Friendster. Just like what I did last year. But something happened.

…Something which made me want to go back home, stand in the middle of my hometown’s road, stare at the sky, and wish for an abundant pouring of rain. And while under the rain, cry as hard and as loud as I can.

… Something which I cannot talk about now, coz until now, I think I’m still dumbfounded and in denial.

I know you did your best. You gave everything. Your child should be very proud of you.

I know I am.

—————

To the three "fathers" in my life,
HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!!!

I LOVE YOU.

INTO A SWEET GOODNIGHT

What will it take

For you

To walk this path

Again with us?

Every summer

We walk on this path

A climb up to reach this grassy spot

Under an umbrella tree

Where our dreams are shouted over the wide expanse of land

And our problems are muttered in the passing sea breeze

But the summer has gone with the coming of the rain

And this place simply became a memory

Now, you are there.

And we’ll continue the walk

For you

We know

A creation as beautiful as you

Has no place on this cruel world

You, the son of the earth

And musician of the sky,

You do not belong to us

But we wished for you

For us, to someday meet again
On this beaten path

After losing one another at the crossroad

The sun is still rising

To its destination on the noon sky

It is still early

But by the time our gazes left your face

You already vanished into the silence of darkness

Hope you remembered us with each breath

And forgave us for trying to forget

That enigmatic smile, that passionate soul

Time will never take you away from us

Ride, ride into the night

Heed his call, take His hand

Go now and never look back

Journey into the highway of dreams

Find your place among the stars
And finally, bid us a sweet goodnight

What will it take for you

To say goodbye

One more time

For the last time?

*****

Say goodnight, not goodbye

You will never leave my heart behind

Like the path, of a star
I’ll be anywhere you are

Say goodnight, not goodbye

- Chantal Kreviazuk, Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye