Scars of the Heydays

I forcibly opened my eyes, awakened by the screeching cars passing our rented place. My sight was still blurred and half awoke, I could hear my sister saying that the water supply is running low today. It didn't trigger me anyway. It's quarter past eight and I should be hurrying for my nine A.M. class but my body is still curled up in my bed. The eastern monsoon giving the cold temperature during the first month of the year is tempting me to sleep longer. My lazy mood melted when the sun rays started to peep through the door. I admonished myself to be more reluctant of the time however. Leisurely, I prepared myself for school, skipping breakfast.. (as usual!) I was so surprised to see that the España Blvd. at this hour is usually queued with vehicles jam packed with sleepy-headed passengers, swaying to and fro almost bumping the next passenger's head. But this morning, the traffic was so light.
En route to school, there were many thoughts entertaining me. Yesterday, I greeted my parents of their wedding anniversary through a phone call. Subsequently, realized that I haven't stayed home longer than before, after my high school graduation. A sudden tinkle of melancholy rang inside of me that I have gotten used to ever since my college. I wish I could be home every weekend then back to Manila again. But since it takes four hours of bus ride and two hours of ferry trip plus half an hour travel to our town from the pier to get home, it is very impractical and tiring on my part. Not to mention the seasickness I get every time I miss to down a tablet of Bonamine. Oh, how I hate that feeling! On the contrary I still feel lucky that I could be home within the day compared to some of my friends who spends two days before they could get home. Anyway, whenever I miss my home, I resort to something that would make me feel like I'm there. Among any other thing that makes me really feel their presence is to stare on old photographs taken during Christmas, fiestas and family gatherings. And the most striking picture of them is the one taken during my cousins' birthday sixteen years ago. I treasure it so much because they are the only few pictures I possess when I was still young. Most of our pictures were washed away when that disastrous storm in the 80's hit the country and left many families homeless. That picture brings flashbacks of my childhood memories. Gone were those days when I ran half naked in the shore bathing, frolicking while basking underneath the high noon's sun with my sisters and friends who were also my relatives. Or maybe those afternoons, my younger sister and I sneaked from our noon siesta, just to play leapfrogs, hopscotch and "patentero" and we would run amuck when we hear three loud whistles from my father. I remember one time when we scampered and almost stumble down when we heard three whistles and laughed aloud only to fid out that it was our neighbor calling for their lost hog. Also those nights when the full moon is up in the firmament, my mom, I and altogether with my sisters played hide and seek, while the moonlight spreads at our backyards. Especially those weekends my two chums and I explored the mountain and climb up on our favorite tree, talking about our crushes and dreams. While we were up on the tree we watched the sun descend behind the hilltop. Once we nearly fall down when we saw a snake silently snoozing, while entwined in the nearest bough. Scary though, but it didn't stopped us from doing it again. Yet we become more painstaking the next time. Another was that twilight, I would bawl out loud from being punished because I neglected to do the assigned household chores to me. Likewise, those birthdays I had envied my cousin for their lavish celebrations and me, feasting before an ordinary pansit and loaves of bread. Cakes and balloons and hotdog on stick were my symbols and yardstick of a birthday celebration. I felt sorry fro myself then and in spite of that, I ever blamed my parents because they made us understand our plight. Yet, I enjoyed them all. Maybe I could never do it again the way I had enjoyed it during the heydays of my childhood. Those times when my only concern is to play and have fun. Since most of my contemporaries were already married while others are not living there anymore. I am the only whose left fancy free so it could never happen again. Things have slowly changed now and will have to change in time. Two years ago, my younger sister and I meandered to the mountain where we used to go. It was still the same, though the tree where we used to climb up was already lying on the ground, ready to be hewed for firewood. The foot of the mountain was cleared from bushes and tall grasses, yet the memories yester years still remain. The giggle still echoes, reverberating as I recall. I tried to shout at that moment then heard my echo and felt like I'm young again. The voice I had played and listened the way I did years ago.

Looking back at the memories, and see some scars reminds me of my childhood adventures. I never regret them. I am happy now knowing that it once happened to me because it made me who I am now. Maybe if my parents weren't too strict on the policies at home, I wouldn't learn why life has to be bitter, sour, pungent or sweet. It is for us to be taught and learn from every trial. The honking of the car behind the jeepney where I was riding on evaporated the playing past in my head, though I have yet to reminisce. Perhaps, tons of them. I barely have five minutes before nine or before I will be late. I alighted from the vehicle and walked past the students at the walkway I have trekked umpteen times. Still the realization lingered in my head. I plainly spent one half of my life at home and memories cling on for a lifetime. It doesn't matter now if I can't do it as much as again. I know I had a good time. My childhood is like the prologue of my own book, for most part is spent away from them. I have to face it whether I want it or not. A melancholy I have to get used to, in time and a challenge I have to face. Well, life is unfair. Whoever said that life was fair, tell me?