"Hiposa ng Racumin inig kahuman og gamit, para di na kan-on sa ilaga..."On the day I turned 25th, the home I used to go home is gone. It's not because of bagyong Ondoy, but because my parents and kid brother left for US as immigrants. Me and my big bro are left here to stay -- me in Cebu, and he in Manila.
Those fun times I had with my parents, most especially my mother, would be a distant memory now.
Those times where my mother would order Margarita as a drink together with her meal because it's 10% off during lunch time; her texts which are always accompanied by a miss call every after she sends one (she said she miss call so that she'll know for sure that her text would not amount to naught knowing that the phone rang - what if it didn't?), her God-knows-what abbreviated SMS messages that even an expert can't decipher (including herself!), her allergies towards anything non-native poultry and almost all seafood.
Those times too where my kid bro will ask me to buy him shoes and he goes directly to a Nike store, those mealtimes in restaurants where we would bicker with my mother and siblings on what to order because mom is so choosy with what to eat.
Those times when my brother goes back to Manila wearing slippers, because father tells my big bro that he has nice shoes.
Yes, those times.
It was a whirlwind, I was minding my own job in Cebu one day, the next day I was in Bohol, the following day I was in Manila, the next thing I was holding back my tears as we bade them farewell and take care and ayo-ayo and what else we muttered under our breaths. And my mother mouthed the words Happy Birthday beside that stupid glass window that was separating us.
Well, I didn't regret anything I've done with my family. I've spent quite some time with them and an awful lot of my money. Hehehe... It sounds like the end, just like Gayle's blog about Precious. But no, no distance can separate me from my family because they stay in my heart.
