back home

It was harvest time when I made this trip home. Colored dots scattered in the golden rice fields as farmers piled the season’s yield. Ducks abound other fields being prepped for the next planting. I’ve seen the scene a lot of times. Something’s quite different this time, I just don’t know what or how.

This is the first time I’m going home after the two-week solitary confinement. There’s a lot of things I want to do, to share, and to experience with the family. The solitary confinement provided an opportunity to reflect (since I’ve watched all the movies and shows there was to watch in my movie archive). That, and the recent conversations I had with the sisters.

The appreciation for the family has increased greatly in the past month and so has the attempts to communicate and spend time with them. I guess this is one of the advantages of experiencing chicken pox. Having a lot of forced free time does make one reflect about a lot of things. Somehow, things feel lighter, more manageable, and better – way better.

I feel like I’ve been worrying about a lot of things which aren’t as difficult as I perceived them to be. Most of these, I don’t even recall why I even worry about.

When I made the decision to go home, I planned to experience summer – beach, sun, and walks. I wanted to experience “summer” before the new academic year starts. When I entered Albay, all I wanted was to be home, a few meters away from the Oldies.

Awkward starts for a conversation, redundant topics, topics I don’t really have to know or things I’m not interested in – it doesn’t matter. I just want to be there and have some conversation with the father, the second sister, and the aunts. I didn’t know how they were doing. Months would pass without a call or text message from me. Calls would always come from them.

These past days, I took in all I can. The father still scrimping on a new bulb, one aunt enduring a (slightly) ant infested mattress, another aunt enduring the sister, the other aunt forgetful as always, and the second sister insisting her ideas be implemented in the house, which is basically the main event in the house of late. There’s afternoon entre cuatro card games in the kitchen that usually ends when one of the players (that would be the father) lose their patience with the forgetful aunt.

One of the parakeets now growing back its feathers (at last!), the African parrot doing well with the new female partner, and the father’s unofficial pet cat now has a female kitten.

So far, everything seems normal.

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