April 11, 2008
It’s been a while since I last wrote anything. And here I am, typing away in my laptop, in our room back in the Philippines. Yup, I’m back. Been here for ten days now. And my friendster shout-out still says the same thing: “Were they good memories? No, they were grand.” And I have no plans of changing it anytime soon. Looking back, I miss everything about Ireland; not to mention the fact that my family’s there. I miss our cozy little house, its wooden floor, the white wallpaper, the overused microwave oven, the cupboard slash ’sari-sari’ store (with all the junkfood in it), the wooden dining chairs, ‘ang kanya-kanya naming trono ni kuya sa sala,’ the sofa ‘na masakit sa likod sa sobrang lambot,’ the user-friendly washing machine (even I learned how to do the laundry) and the fragrant fabric conditioner (one of my favorite scents of all time), the kitchen towels, the lampshade in my parents’ bedroom, the glorious bathroom. I could go on and on, but nothing would compare to the loneliness that creeps up on me when I think about them, my family, all the way in the UK.
I wonder if our three month vacation did our ‘independence’ any good - mine and my brother’s. No doubt, it made our bonding as a family tighter than ever; made us closer to our little brother and sister. But me and my older brother are nearing our 30s and I wonder if we could ever think of ‘moving away’ from them. I was never the independent type. And I swear to God, I cried in the plane on the way home. Out of nowhere, these feelings of despair just crept inside me - I felt like I was orphaned. I almost felt like I couldn’t live without them again despite being able to do so for more than a year. Suddenly, the ‘bibbo’ hotdogs, spaghetti and ‘tocino’ didn’t taste as good as I hope it’d be.
It’s been a while since I last wrote anything. And here I am, typing away in my laptop, in our room back in the Philippines. Yup, I’m back. Been here for ten days now. And my friendster shout-out still says the same thing: “Were they good memories? No, they were grand.” And I have no plans of changing it anytime soon. Looking back, I miss everything about Ireland; not to mention the fact that my family’s there. I miss our cozy little house, its wooden floor, the white wallpaper, the overused microwave oven, the cupboard slash ’sari-sari’ store (with all the junkfood in it), the wooden dining chairs, ‘ang kanya-kanya naming trono ni kuya sa sala,’ the sofa ‘na masakit sa likod sa sobrang lambot,’ the user-friendly washing machine (even I learned how to do the laundry) and the fragrant fabric conditioner (one of my favorite scents of all time), the kitchen towels, the lampshade in my parents’ bedroom, the glorious bathroom. I could go on and on, but nothing would compare to the loneliness that creeps up on me when I think about them, my family, all the way in the UK.
I wonder if our three month vacation did our ‘independence’ any good - mine and my brother’s. No doubt, it made our bonding as a family tighter than ever; made us closer to our little brother and sister. But me and my older brother are nearing our 30s and I wonder if we could ever think of ‘moving away’ from them. I was never the independent type. And I swear to God, I cried in the plane on the way home. Out of nowhere, these feelings of despair just crept inside me - I felt like I was orphaned. I almost felt like I couldn’t live without them again despite being able to do so for more than a year. Suddenly, the ‘bibbo’ hotdogs, spaghetti and ‘tocino’ didn’t taste as good as I hope it’d be.
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