Wanderlust… to soar in a grand way…

Discontent is the malady of your generation. My father grumbled as he sat beside me in the car. Always wanting what is not.

It was going to be a long weekend for me, I thought. As I drive past the bumpy streets of my town, I dread the thought of spending two full days at my father’s house now that nanay is no longer around. Nanay had always been my buffer from my dad’s gruff ways. I guess he could not help it. He was born to a very poor family who had to literally scrape food off from the pot. He had a hard life and so did nanay. But nanay somehow never took on the stiffness of heart that poverty can often do to a young girl. She had always been brave and her gentle ways belie her strength. My mother had been full of wisdom too, and she would often tell me how grateful she was that she had married my father. He loved me more, she said. You should find someone like that.

I am my father’s daughter. I have become serrated too, but thankfully my roughness had been tempered by mother’s gentle soul. Maybe that is why he and I would always clash like two bulls meeting head-on – we are so alike. I can almost hear nanay whisper to me- You are so like your father.

Her passing had been tough for everyone, I know. But somehow, we had never articulated just how much the pain was or how deep the hole still is in all of our hearts. She had been this glue that had kept us all together and made all the diverse characters in our family mesh. And mesh in a right way. Whenever I get a scolding from my dad back then, nanay would only just sit beside me and hold my hand, not saying anything but understanding me anyway.

But I had not always understood her. The rebellious teen that I was, I would brush off her kindness with my nonchalance. I guess I simply took it for granted that she would perpetually be there for me. And if mother had her way, I know she would have wanted to defy death and just go on being there…

As I ease my car into the drive way, a heavy lump of sadness engulfed me. And I think it too swallowed my father, for he became silent altogether. Perhaps, he too was seeing in his mind how nanay would always sit by the gate, as if forever expecting her children to come home for the weekend. Then later, when her body got weaker from the illness that robbed her of life, she would often lie on the sofa with the television on, not really seeing anymore, just listening to the murmurs from the screen, and waiting for the honk that signals her children’s coming home.

And as life got busier for us, living our own lives away from home, and reaching for our dreams, as she was fond of saying, going home became less and less. Often, nanay had to satisfy herself with our calls on the cellular phone. I got so caught up in my own affairs that I never even realized how sad her eyes had become, those eyes that used to be filled with so much life, now only living for those far and in between weekends when her favorite girl would come home.

Today, coming home was not the same. It will never be the same. And as I looked at my father getting out of the passenger seat, I felt his pain. How painful it must have been for this man to have lost his life’s companion- the woman he loved and nurtured a family with. Perhaps he too would anguish at night thinking of how he had taken her for granted when she was living still. And regretting it too.

As I follow in step behind my father, into our house, I realized that he was getting older. His steps were not as purposeful as before. I resolved then to be kinder to him, to be more understanding, to be gentle with him as my mother was.

I am indeed my father’s daughter, and I am grateful. This would not be a long drawn out weekend after all… I promise.

What a beautiful day. The sun was finally up and can be seen amidst a backdrop of hazy light from the heavens.  It had been a terrible week of heavy rains and dark clouds, much like the darkness in her heart. She was glad the sun was out. It was as if the darkness inside her had lifted too.

The mall was busy as usual, so many well-lighted and beautifully designed windows crying out for her attention but like a driven woman that will not be sidetracked, she purposely went to one store. A pair of boxing gloves later, she realized she was about to embark on a new empowering endeavour.  She had enrolled in a muaythai class earlier that week, not only to lose the pounds that have piled up during the past months but also (and more importantly) to keep herself sane.  Elle Woods had said that exercise makes one happy.

And so there she was, with boxing gloves in place, aiming away at all her frustrations, agression, at all unmet expectations and at just about every little thing that ticks her off, she took control of her life… and it felt good.

Next week, she has to arrange with the swimming instructor so they they could finish what’s left of the hours for the swimming lessons. The water on the other hand is an antithesis to the close confines of her boxing class.  There underneath the waters with all her walls up, not wanting to let go, she had to breathe out and throw away all fears.  It was not that the waters, as if alive, were deliberately trying to drown her; it was more that her mind could not let go of what she had been accustomed to knowing- that she will drown.  But today she decided to have no more of those fears.  With a bull-like resolve and the cold breeze touching her soft skin, she vowed to conquer the pool… and her mind.

Be careful what you wish for, it might just come true.  These were the thoughts that rang in her head as he uttered the words she thought she wanted to hear- "You know i want to be with you. We’ll get married next year, right?" And just like that, she had what you might call a semblance of a proposal, and just like that too, she realized "I don’t know what i want".

Darn, she really doesn’t know what she wanted afterall… For the first time in her life she was actually dumbfounded. She couldn’t hear him anymore, her thoughts were lost into that moment where she pictured herself wearing that flowing white gown, violins playing in the background and the man of her dreams waiting at the end of the long walk before the altar…and like an alley mcbeal episode, her tounque dropped and rolled, the music came to a screeching halt…the man had no face…

Fastforward into the future and she was singing lullaby to her baby, the man of her dreams came up from behind her and as she slowly turned to receive the kiss that her man wanted to give her, a gasp escaped her slightly opened mouth… her voice failed her as she shouted a soundless "NO!" into the faceless man she thought she married and vowed to be faithful to…to love, to cherish and to behold…

Faceless…faceless…faceless. It became clear to her then that she was as uncertain as the men who came before whom she accused of being fearful of commitment…of intimacy… In a single instant she felt her hand lift itself against her will and a finger pointing at her, her own hand, as if her own body mocked her.

The sadness that engulfed her right then was inexplicable, suffocating her in its strength.  She wanted him to be strong for her, to be certain for her, and as she stared into the deep pools of his eyes she could not find the comfort she so longed for.  It was just not there. 

Uncertainty tore at her heart. WHy? She asked herself. And just like that too, she knew for sure that a new saga awaits her.  She did not know how to tell him.  For now, she simply held him and pretended to be where he was…

Tomorrow will take care of itself.