Hanggang sa Muli


Lungkot. Hapis. Lumbay.
Luha. Patak… Agos... Buhos…
Mamaalam. Magpaalam. Namaalam. Paalam!


'Pang, ingat po...

Kaninang umaga ay namaalam na ang pinakamamahal na Papang… ng aming kaibigan na si Olan. Sa kabila ng pagkaratay ni Papang…, nabigla pa rin ako. Parang may malakas na pintong lumagabog at gumulat sa akin noong nabasa ko ang text ni Olan, “Wala na si papang…” Pinigil ko agad ang pag-iyak. Hindi pala, ayoko muna umiyak. Natigilan ako dahil hindi ko alam kung ano ang isasagot sa text na iyon. Condolences? O quote tungkol sa kagandahan ng buhay o tungkol sa kakayahan ng tao na maghilom ng sariling sugat? Bibigyan ko ba siya ng payo na kailangan niya kayanin at harapin ang lahat dahil bahagi iyon ng buhay? O aalayan siya ng kunsuwelo na si Papang ay nasa langit na, masaya at kasama na si Lord?

Tunay at makatwiran lamang kung bibigyan ko siya ng mga salitang nagpapahiwatig ng isa man sa mga ito. Pero batid kong alinman ay hindi sapat. Walang salitang sasapat at makapagpapaibsan ng hapis na bumabalot sa buong pamilya ni Papang ngayon, lalo na kay Olan (na maliban sa pagiging bunsong anak ay binata pa, kaya’t walang ibang masasandalan kundi si Mamang at ang mga ate at kuya niya). Kaya’t ang nasabi ko sa kanya, “Kahit isang timba na nailuha mo, hanggat may luha ka pa, ibuhos mo lang po. Bawat patak ng luha na iyan ay karapat-dapat lamang ialay sa Papang mo.”

Noong namatay si Nanay Leny… na aking biyenan, akala ko ay hindi ako maiiyak. Ang tagal kasi niyang naratay kaya’t parang makatwiran lamang na siya ay magpahinga na. Isa pa, ang tatapang kasi ng kanyang mga anak, kaya’t kailangan din maging matapang. Dadalawa lang kasi silang magkapatid kaya’t naghuhugutan ng lakas, hindi pwedeng magpakita ng kahinaan ang isa, dahil magugupo ang isa. Pero sa kabila noon, hindi pa rin pala napipigilan ang luha para sa isang minamahal. Aagos at aagos pa rin.

Pero okey lang kahit mag-flashfloods pa, ang bawat pagluha ay katumbas ng pagmamahal ng lahat ng mga naiwan.

Masakit. Nasaktan. Pasakit.
Kahapon. Kanina. Mamaya. Ngayon.
Iniwan. Naiwan. Iwanan. Iwan. Wala na.
Hanggang sa muli, Papang...

GO. WENT. GONE.



photo courtesy of Angela Ficorelli

Gone for three months. Excuses (and alibis): Had numerous adventures: September – friend’s birthday (bearhobs), October – quarterly exams then school field trip then my birthday with a bonus of an MIA employee, November – project granite for in-law then release of school cards then hubby’s birthday, December – exams then parents’ fashion show (where I get to meet a friend whom I haven’t seen for several years, Kulay) then Christmas parties then the much-awaited trip to the city of pines. It was indeed a very hectic ber-months.

Honestly, there was a couple of extra time for my blogging but my hunger for books got the best of me. I snatched a copy of Book 2: Son of Neptune of the Heroes of Olympus series and then bought Book 2: The Throne of Fire of the Kane Chronicles. In both cases, I have to reread the first book in order to recall everything before diving headfirst into the second book. Then in late October, I reread the Twilight series for the nth time, so that I could compare the details of the 4^th book with the first part of the 4^th film (and for the first time, I was not disappointed by how they made the movie). On my birthday, our teachers gave me the Inkheart trilogy, so for several days, I was obsessed with them too. Not to mention the 3^rd book in the Inheritance Cycle, Brisingr, and the first three books of the Cirque du Freak series. In December, during all the chaos and stress brought by the holidays, I reread the whole Percy Jackson and the Olympians pentalogy, which relaxes me before sleeping. It was just now that I realized that I read 18 books in 3 months! (How did I do that? I never read inside the car for I get nauseous, I only read in bed, in the rest room, in the shower, while watching TV, while eating, the whole weekends… lost in my thoughts again.)

Yep, I was gone for three months, but I hope it wouldn’t happen again. It wasn’t easy not to write in those times, especially when those creepy, crawling ideas started chasing each other in my mind whenever I close my eyes (the Jose Rizal idea keeps on winning their mataya-taya game). But in the end, all of them lost, since I was not able to write a single word about any of them.

What made me write again? I just go-went-gone to and from Ogygia.