i can't recall the number of times i feigned sickness just so i won't be dragged out of bed by my sister, who was always so eager to ride the 8am bus to batangas. i have spent half of my life in manila. my "independence" was not forced. it was a necessity back then when my mom made it clear (15 years ago) she'd do anything to give us the kind of quality education only the schools in manila can offer (a lot of people still think that manila is the best place to earn yourself a decent degree).
law school came and it gave me another veritable excuse not to go home. i don't know why, but the idea of going back to the place i grew up in irked the hell out of me. i was evading my dad's wake up calls and mom's doting presence. the only thing i looked forward to was dad's cooking. so i'd agree to come home only to indulge in 2 of life's guilty pleasures: inihaw na liempo and bulanglang.
then the time came when i had to come home and leave manila--for good.
i have been here (in batangas) for almost 4 months now, but 1 whole, solid day with my parents was all it took to stir my senses and tame the gravity that has kept my faculties up and away from the idea of sleeping in my distressed yellow room--to actually stay and to experience more than just a fleeting moment of nostalgia with the help of my old books and photos.
i was so ashamed of myself for coercing my sister to hold the cudgels for me while i bathed in manila air the whole time. i may have spent my years wisely on education, but i never thought i'd be just as naive and self-centered as a day old baby! (nag-aral pa ako sa lagay na yan ha).
each day with my parents is bliss; each day, a blessing. i realized, each day that i was away from them was a struggle. my stay here has allowed me to discover the things that i took for granted before. the mother-daughter bonding, cooking lessons with dad, and the familiar bashings i get from both of them for waking up late. even my dad's daily dose of hurtful words and scoldings are now music to my ears!
during one of our late night chikahans, my mom shared one heart-breaking routine of hers: she'd wait outside of our house (and stay there for hours--until she sees an aircon bus infront of our gate) the minute she gets off the phone with ate len telling her "ma, we're on our way home."
this goes out to all of you who think independence means forgetting the "better (if not the best) part" of oneself and leaving it all behind to seek for greener pasture--the very part of you that has turned your parents into insomniacs overnight.
it's time to collect your thoughts and pin them onto corkboards so you won't forget that when you left for school, you left behind two persons who'd put their lives on the line for you just so you can find your self-worth in a place that can make or break you...and that two people were willing enough to sacrifice spending the days with you just so you won't catch them in the act of rummaging through the crevices of their wallets just to give you your week's allowance.
i have only ate len to thank for rousing me out of deep slumber and for teaching me that each day spent away from my mom and dad may mean sorrow, but one that we no longer have to endure from now on.
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