Far from being wonderfully measured, I don’t mind if life solemnizes mine once in a while. The simple details of my life are being cherished. Along with my simple declarations. There is content in not knowing. In non-engagement. Nothing to complicate this resting heart.
But as my arms stretch out far to the dark of a quiet night, my past starts to pound while the sky bodes of a compelling flashback. My mission begins to lose strength day by day.
Is it a mere feeling of unease over the fact everything I’ve been running away from keeps finding me in the end?
Can’t afford the risk of my own extinction. Not yet. Maybe I need another new inspiration. Something that will let me plunge into some dream state – get sucked in through the handsome vibe of a good-natured cavalier. To cover my thoughts, to bless my battles and freedom. Someone who will keep this world from fracturing.
Upon my word, my hope, within a silent pledge. Do not punish me for such honesty. Let me live in between spheres against my infinite capacity to feel – as you and I together with our sense of dedication will abbreviate further.
And I promise, I promise I will transform my very fire for you.
I notice most of my posts have the word forever or its synonyms in them. Probably an ideal concept and favorite theme of mine even though nothing in this world truly lasts that long. No argument to that. But what do we make of the greatest love of all – the love between parent and child?
My son’s recent trip to Cebu had him gushing, “It’s been the best time of my life.” It was then that I realized my boy is fully grown up.
In the recent months that I’ve been watching him, oft from a distance, fractions of our history slice through my mind and warm memories seize me. Twenty one years of sheer togetherness. Now my baby is getting set to spread his wings. He’s excited about his future that seems rich of promise. A year of preparation and hard studying to become a licensed Engineer is about to culminate in a grueling two-day (national board) examination this March. Aside from that, he has already expressed his enthusiasm for independence – to be on his own – as soon as he finds a job. It’s about time; I know. No filial cord should tether him from stretching his courage and gumption.
Lying in wait, both our destinies have paused for a moment of breath.
I’ve no doubt my son loves me in his own peculiar way; in much the same way he has perfectly known how I’ve always loved him to pieces. But there’s a world outside waiting for him to explore.
Doesn’t love allow for trust in the unknown – no matter how heavy the price it exacts on our peace of mind? I’d be lying if I said I have no worry as to how well my son would blend into that broad, distant horizon where he plans to go. I may be looking forward to retreat into quiet happiness and bits of adventure in the near future myself – but I have begun envisioning, too, how much I’ll be missing him when he has already flown away from my nest.
Sometimes, being a parent doesn’t fully justify the fire of love and concern that burns in your heart for your child.
But what do I really know about life and love and loss anyway? What with the past year that has seen me dismantling and overhauling the personal ideologies I’ve kept for so long.
Our doors invariably remain open to everything uncertain – good or bad or worse. The world will keep on orbiting in its inscrutability regardless; clutching each of us in its course.
Eventually, we’ll all bend down to the conceit of time, the inexorability of change, and the ruthless wiles of the Ultimate Equalizer.
Yet I have also learned that love expands to an unexplored breadth – as soon as everything’s lost to eternity.
A beautiful poem titled “You Shall Be Free” by a Filipino poet, from one of my son’s college literature textbook, has appealed to me. It goes:
I guess I’d better share some more of my short verses here. What am I gonna do with them anyway. Some aren’t about love, though I could write verses of that kind every minute of my day. But I didn’t want to nauseate my readers so I tried to come up with something else. They tend to be namby-pamby still. Hope you’ll like them as well.
The hues that take on a magical glow
dovetailing the surrender of dawn
leaves me in a shadow of light
that bends my way to the grandest day
My real string of pearls
are words printed down on paper
either seeking my eyes’ perusal
or inspiring me to write my own truth.
She might have paid too heavy a price
for the gray skies that drifted upon her.
Yet she trudges further along..
hoping that maybe, just maybe,
a little chocolate, some pasta and a kitten’s love
are all waiting for her at the end of the rainbow.