Family

I.



While my brother and I were having our daily chats he sent me the link to the video above. My first question was, Haaay drama ba to? knowing that he was just reeling from a news that shattered his hopes of reuniting with his ex. No, just watch it, he replied. I hope you watch it too. I was teary-eyed after watching it. Indeed, the best memories I have of the persons I love/loved are those little idiosyncracies, those little everyday moments that transform into precious and longed-for memories with their absence. I loved the last lines, when the mother utters her hope for her children. It is what all of us hope for, whether we are aware of it or not. To find that imperfect person whom we could not live without.

II.


We, my brother and I, kind of cried after watching this ( he, in LB, and I, in Seoul). It reminded us so much of the sacrifices our father did to give us a good life. I remember when I was in elementary, and my brother was just a toddler, I would throw tantrums whenever my father comes home without any pasalubong on hand. We both grew up feeling we were entitled to have the best chances in life, that we can be anything we want to be. We never felt poor, even though looking back, we probably were. When we were young, for four years, my father juggled working as a government employee from eight to five, with law school, trying his best to get high enough grades to maintain a partial scholarship on his tuition. I can only imagine now how hard it was for him. Back then, because my brother was still too young, my mother stopped working as a nurse and became a plain housewife. Looking back, the family's finances must have been pretty tight. But we never felt it, he still treated us to weekly meals at Jollibee, even if it means he'd order only french fries for him and mom so we can have our sundaes and spaghetti. He loved to give us books, and on Saturdays he'd bring us to the old Quad (where Glorietta now stands) so we could run around and be kids. We look back at those times, teary-eyed and a bit guilty. We can only shake our heads, amazed at how we never felt the pain of being less fortunate, how our dad made sure we were well provided for, even as he must have been going crazy juggling work, studying and raising a family.

I cried because, now that we are at a relatively better place, we tend to forget how this came about. We forget the past, the debt we have, that we can never ever repay. It is what we know of now as our father's love, and it makes cry to know that sometimes because I am busy living my own life, I forget and neglect to even send just a text to him, thanking him, thanking the skies for my luck at having him for a father.