Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Walking Home


*this is something I wrote earlier this evening as I came back from school....
I am, at last, home only to find myself waiting outside our house for the rest of my family to arrive...
I came home pretty late today... 

Earlier in Aemilianum, as my instructor called the assigned reporter to start (class started at 3pm), my sister sent me a text message informing me of the traffic building up at downtown. People have gathered in the streets to watch the street dance – a part of the Sosogon Festivities.

My class was only until 4pm.  Since Prof. Ed. 9 is my only class during weekdays, I usually come in fifteen minutes before class and leave immediately after it. Today, however, due to the parade, I had to stay another hour in school, hoping that by then traffic would be back to normal.

The "hour more" was spent wisely conversing with Ms. Pacla regarding the novel I was working on (another story to tell) and spending time with my dear girls from Jardin. By past 5 pm I started out the doors of Aemilianum and luckily got a tricycle ride with the driver suggesting to bring me straight to my destination instead of going to downtown for the second ride home (downtown's traffic seems to be slow due to the parade and the rain--which happened during that hour of wait i did). 

I spent that hour wisely. I had a chance to talk with Ms. Pacla regarding the novel I was working on; and also bond with my girls from Jardin de Maria. By past 5pm I started to walk out the doors of my alma matter and got lucky to get a tricycle ride which offered to bring me straight to my destination (traffic was still slow at downtown).

The tricycle stopped at the end of the paved road. From there I started walking my way towards home. I call it adventure. 

There were more houses on the way compared to when we first came here; just imagine how it was further ahead…where we built our house.  I finally came at the turn where the gate to our compound is. This is the part where I needed to be extra careful, not because it was rocky but because of the grass. They’ve already grown after a month since they were last trimmed. But even then I still pray that no snake would jump at me from nowhere. There were only a few steps and our unfinished second floor was already within sight. 

Between being careful with my steps, praying that I won’t trip, and sweat forming on my forehead, the realization that no one might be home yet hit me. We all did go out at the same time and surely traffic isn’t going any faster in downtown. I don’t have the key to the door and there’s no way I was going to walk back all that way especially since I just passed by the area where they once found a snake. So I still went on. Just then a certain scent filled the atmosphere. 

I knew that scent well.

My mom’s perfume….

My mom was with me…

I know some may find it weird but I said hi. Ever since she died we always had this feeling that she’s with us especially when that scent came strong. None of us used that perfume. As an Ilocano tradition we sent it with her – a pabaon.
 
The scent faded as soon as I entered our gate. I found the lights outside were on but (as expected) the windows closed. 

Now I sit here…And between thoughts of wanting to break the doors, planning to have my own set of keys, and wishing I had brought with me a bottle of insect repellent, I write these lines:

           I miss my mom!
           I miss her everyday.....
               and God is good.....
                   He allowed her to keep watch of us.....
                       and He allowed us to have her as our

Mother.....

God's kindness was shining on us....

He gave me that warning from my sister so as to not get tied up in that messy traffic...

He gave me that extra time to talk to friends to make my dream a reality...

And there was my mom...

Now my thoughts wandered off to my laptop inside and my need to type what I just wrote in this scratch paper. But just like TIME, CHANCES, and SERENDIPITY, all I can do is wait and hope that the next footsteps I hear (the sound coming louder) are those of my loved ones with the key to the door.....


Photo by Gil Sages

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