Just Passing By

In the tradition of Boy Abunda’s magic mirror where you have a chance to talk to yourself, I’ll put a spin to that and write my 12-year old self a letter:

Dear Kay,

Yes, I spelled your name right because that’s how you always spelled it. It won’t be after you watched Julie Yap Daza’s Feng Shui episode on People that you decided to add an “e” to your name. That was a good move because I thought the new spelling suits us perfectly.

Anyway, can you believe that you’ll reach the ripe old age of 36 – intact? I’d say we did a pretty good job growing up in the right direction. From a shy, skinny girl with really bushy eyebrows from Angeles City, you’ll find yourself here in the US, living the American dream. Most of all you live it with dignity. Juan Tamad will be very proud.

But that’s getting ahead of myself. Let’s back track a little and listen to my two cents worth. Kay, don’t forget that you’re only 12 so learn to relax. You take yourself too seriously. You study way too hard to stay in the honor roll. In high school, you’ll fight tooth and nail for the highest rank and make enemies (or so you thought) with the sunshine girl from Lourdes Elementary. You’ll go home crying after a deliberation session because she outranked you with all her stupid Girl Scout badges. Afterwards, you’ll send her dagger looks and avoid her like the plague. You may not believe me but Suzette will be one your best friends on your last year of high school and you’ll continue to be friends with her to this day.

At 12, you stopped playing with your toys and started acting like a lady. Don’t! You’ll have plenty of time to be a lady. You read too many Mills&Boon romance books and day dream far too much about finding your true love. And don’t be so self-conscious about being skinny, sending a wish to the stars to gain weight. You’ll gain plenty of weight, believe me. Stop thinking you’re ugly. Your sisters may be prettier than you but you’ll break hearts a-plenty. Sure you’ll have your heart broken too, many, many times. You’d be the drama princess that you are and think that you’ll surely die from a serious heartbreak. Soon enough, you’ll find the right man for you who will love you more than life itself and who will take care of you.

Most of all don’t fret too much about the future. Just take each day at a time and BE. It’s going to be a good life.

Older version of me,
Kaye

Today I received a text message from my brother Boybee. Part of the message read: “I wish we can just press rewind and go back to the days when it’s just the seven of us living the perfect life.” He was probably having a drama moment and said that I was missed. For someone like me who’s been away from family for almost three years, that little message set off a torrent of tears.

Don’t get me wrong. There is nothing in this world I won’t give up for my kids but I admit that I still have a lot of growing up to do myself and miss being my parent’s baby. When you’re battling homesickness, work challenges and a myriad of emotions at the same time, anyone will regress to that time in their lives when life was simpler and safer. If you ask me, this is what I want:

I want to be 7 again and play with my neighbors in the vacant lot. Even though I had to bring Boybee who was hardly walking then, I managed to play tag and hide and seek or climb trees because I’ve found a perfect place to keep Boybee where he could be safe - inside two old tires piled on top of each other so he can’t go anywhere. Then Mama would scold me when we get home because he’d be so filthy. I’d feel sorry for a while but I’d do it all over again the next day.

I want to be 8 and stay awake until midnight because I’m excited for the first day of school tomorrow. I’d feel the bunk bed move as Arcee shifts below and I’d ask if he were still awake. Then we’d agree to turn on the lights and sniff our brand new shoes and look inside our school bags just to make sure our pencils and papers and crayons were still there.

I want to be 9 and go home from school only to find my beloved rag doll, I named Dolly, missing. After I turned the room upside down, Dingdang will fess up that she buried Dolly in the backyard to get back at me after our quarrel that morning. Not that I want to have my poor Dolly buried again, but the chance to have those silly quarrels with Dingdang again because it means she’s right here, close to me.

I want to be 12 again and look at baby Tuchie’s face for the first time after she came home from the hospital. I sneaked in Mama and Daddy’s room and just stared forever at this little baby who they said was my sister. I think I considered myself a mommy to her and missed her the most when I went off to college. She was always the first one to greet me at the gate when I came home for the weekend. Being the chatterbox that she is, she’d manage to fill me in on what I missed even before we reach the front door.

I want to have dinner with just the seven of us again, to share Mama’s homemade fried chicken meal. I wouldn’t mind if we could only have one piece each because we weren’t rich. I would still think that it’s the most fabulous meal ever. Then when the day is over, we’ll all go upstairs and sleep soundly under the same roof. All 7 of us, because we were family, and life was perfect.