My father was a big man with big heavy arms who doesn’t like to sleep with the lights on but is afraid of the dark. He doesn’t like to sleep alone. And he’d lock me with his burly arms like logs… Snoring logs. Now I realize how overwhelmingly happy such gesture makes a father. I always want to hug my daughter and son till I doze off. I know they are feeling how I felt then. I try to explain or control the need to keep them within reach. Some things are only seen when you’re at the other side of the fence.
I wish I had the wisdom of an elder brother with Aiyee (our bunso) growing up. I treated her as an equal, and every pursuit was contentious. Looking back, I realize that maybe she just wanted to be with me and wanted to be part of everything that I did until the day that she don’t share my interests no more. I thought she was too competitive, never submissive and yet, never left me alone. She was younger, I wasn’t really that much older. I see Thierri and her patience towards her brother, and it never seems to run out. I wish I had that. But the better memories light up my mind when I miss her. I now appreciate what I realize were great times and great lessons.
I remember how we felt guarded about our mom with the thought that she might marry again. Despite a not so high bar set, no man is good enough. We were not fair. She never imposed anything from our schooling to careers. She just wanted us to lead good lives. We realized that marriage for her, is a ball and chain. That she always had a soul that needs to be free and we were detours. A proof that love is worth it and dreams keep on moving forward even if life seem to contradict it and seem to try to drag it down.
I wish I played more scrabble with Tita Vicky. She always used to beat me bad with 200 point win margin. Then I turned 12. I’d win 9 out of 10, she enjoyed it, I don’t quite understand. She was enjoying moments not results. That was the death of my competitiveness. I now only choose almost exclusively, ventures that are more about moments, not results. In some metrics, I am a failure. And they may be right. I’m still writing my contribution to the betterment of this world.
When June 23 comes I think of kindness. I wish I was a better friend to friends that are not orbiting the same universe where I am. I can hold my breath. Then days pile up. Then what’s between us is either a wall of experience or barbs of regret. But we always move on and you can only deal with what’s front of you and focus on one. We should learn the value of “stop”. That it’s alright to spend time like it’s wasted on people who are worth it.
The people we love and those who truly love us are worth it.
danDAman 