A lot has changed since then. I’ve been busy with work, family, friends. Perhaps, in a way, trying to forget the past. Once in a while I’d think about this journal. I’d plan to write something. But then something comes up and I forget.
It’s been like that for 2 years.
In April of 2014 my sister got married. Exactly one year after she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl….mom’s exact lookalike. She recalls having dreamt of her sometime August last year. They were in mom’s bed talking about how life has changed since she passed away. My sister started crying.
Then mom said, “I have to go now. I’m bored here”.
“But we miss you.”
“It’s okay. I always watch over all of you everyday.”
Then she just disappeared.
My sister later learned she was carrying a baby girl.
In November I resigned from my old office and entered the private sector for the first time after 9 years. It was a big change. But demanding as it was, it gave me more time to spend with my family. I don’t know if mom would’ve liked me shifting careers. I would like to know what she thought. What she thinks. If I made the right decision.
About dad, well, he’s been coping in the best way he can. We gave him a Nexus 7 and Galaxy Tab….and gave him a Facebook account. It’s what’s keeping him busy these days. He says he’s semi-retired. He goes to the Hospital to check on them everyday, still wakes up early for church, then spends most of the day home….with his new grandchild. We try to go home and visit whenever we can especially during the long weekends.
Life has kept us busy these past 2 years. It has gifted us with so many new blessings and things to think about and look forward to. But this will never replace that empty space my mom once occupied.
She talked about how her kids would write her lots of short notes on pieces of paper. Messages of love or random everyday sweet nothings that are too mushy to blurt out.
I am transported at once to a big pink room I once shared with my sister when we were in elementary school. After arriving from the US, we stayed at my grandmother’s old mansion. Mom took out the division of one room and opened it up to fit 2 beds. Between these two beds across was a large study table that was always untidy. Before school, my sister and I would write little messages that mom would read within the day.
Years later, she would mention those letters to us. Then she’d bring out a whole scrapbook filled with letters from me and my sister that she saved and collected over the years.
Just me, myself, at home, doing not so important things. The hubs doing his thing. The little one watching cartoons. Just like that, we’re engrossed in our own little lives. Finding peace in that moment. Contentment.
Especially when I need it the most.
I go home because dad’s there. I need to. I have to. Because he’s there. Nothing more.
I go home because “going home” meant getting a stress free life even for just a while. When I am surrounded by an easy way sort of living. But now that’s not the same.
I go home to an emotionally charged atmosphere where people I used to know are somehow not the same anymore. Since mom died, it has become just too much not just because of a simulation of more responsibilities, but the thought of working and then efforts go unnoticed, unappreciated, and most of the times, advice are strewn aside (why did you even ask me in the first place?).
There’s a long vacation coming up.
But sometimes, like tonight, I’d choose to stay put. Just here.