I don’t remember
much what I was doing this time last year. I have vague memories of preparing
for a friend's wedding, working on Christmas projects for the office, and
assisting a pregnant friend in her gift shopping.
Remembering 2013
is going to be a different story. I am positive that one, five, even ten years
from now, I will remember what I was doing this year. It's not every year that
you get married. It's not every year that you get pregnant. Certainly not every
year that a child is welcomed in your family.
I stood alone
around midnight at the entrance of Rockwell, waiting for Ken to pick me up.
Because of the lateness of the time, there were no people waiting with me, nor
anyone walking by. I looked around and realized…it will be a long while before
I experience this aloneness again. Not months, not years, but decades.
How does one's life change so drastically in a span of 12 months? A year ago, I
had full control of my body, my future, and my every move. Today, my bladder
feels like it's generating water on its own, my lower back aches where it never
ached before, and my eyesight is at its worst. The control I had a year ago was
something I couldn’t even remember anymore.
The fatigue is
something different all together. I have had tired, exhausting episodes before,
like maybe after working for almost 16 hours or more, or after a 12-hour bus
ride that's bumpy. These days though, I wake up to pee, and I'm already tired.
I stand up to get water, and then I'm tired. The only thing pushing me to move
is my need to eat so that the little one doesn’t miss out on meals. Otherwise,
I think I would be content simply sleeping 24 hours a day.
And then there's
my walking. I love walking, and I love walking fast, I feel like I'm bouncing.
Occasionally, I would sprint to my destination and the surge of energy is
always liberating. And yet, I suddenly find myself unable to walk with the same
speed. Instead, I wobble along. When, and how, did that happen?
And yet, in the
wee hours of the morning, in the middle of my sleep, I would be awakened by a
gentle kick or a little squirm, as if a little body is also shifting sleeping
positions inside of me. That's when I wonder, how indeed did I get so lucky as
to have deserved a special gift? Sure, the little joints kneading my insides
sometimes feel like my stomach is about to launch an alien, but how could you
not adore the little movements that indicate the signs of precious life?
In two to three
weeks, (or maybe even a week, who knows?), I will be in labor, in a hospital
room, and then life would never be the same, our little angel will be born. I've heard stories of how sleep will soon be a luxury to me. How pregnancy is really just the beginning and that it doesn’t compare to the years of early mornings and late nights ahead. I have heard horror stories of labor, and I can absolutely say without
shame nor embarrassment right now that I am terrified. I am unprepared. I do
not know what to do. I am sure I will
cry in the process. Or maybe ask for even just a slight delay until I can gain
control, even when I know control is no longer possible.
One thing is for
sure though, I have never felt happiness that can top my 2013, and I know that the coming years of losing control will also bring along even more of this
kind of joy. That's why I am sure I will remember decades from now what I
was doing in 2013 - it was the year I stopped walking fast, and instead,
wobbled along.
On my first Valentines Day in Singapore, I was amazed to see how big of a holiday it was in the small city. I took the train and everyone around me were carrying bouquets of flowers. I arrive at work, and the ladies are either waiting for a flower delivery (and sighing a little when the delivery that arrived wasn't for them), while the men are struggling to find flower shops who would deliver last minute orders without charging obscenely. In the evening, the restaurants were incredibly packed, getting a cab was near impossible, and people were just...everywhere.
Years later, I go home to Manila to find that the intense celebration of Valentines Day has landed. Not a single public place is without decorations. At work, various activities are taking place, small and big. We have balloons, games, even little notecards you can write on and have someone deliver for you. People were exchanging gifts and arranging dinners and night outs. It reminded me of one other holiday when all this madness happens. Is it Christmas that day?
What struck me the most is that these people participating in the events and getting hung up on Valentines are not couples. These are friends saying "hi's" to other friends. These are buddies sending a funny joke to another. These are employees sending a "thank you" to their boss. These are bosses sending a "good job" to their team. These are children sending flowers to their mothers.
What used to be an event for couples only, have become an event for all. A holiday that used to remind of romance, now celebrates love. I don't celebrate Valentines Day, but this year, I wondered, why not?
Valentines Day is a reminder for us to express love. In our fast-paced life of technology, work and social networking, it can be easy to forget. If you have been badly hurt by a previous relationship, or have long been searching for someone to be with, and couldn't seem to meet anyone "right", it can be easy to forget. The problem with forgetting is that you not only forget to express love, you forget the feeling of how it is be given love as well. And somewhere along the way, you lose the courage to continue searching for it, and just believe that it's not something you deserve, or make yourself believe it's not something you want. You may forget that there are people around you who do love you as much as any boyfriend or girlfriend would. Sure, you don't go out on dates, there are no romantic kisses, but you are there for each other. Having people around you who care for you is the best reminder that love will be there.
A while back, while waiting for my turn to go parasailing, a friend asked if I was sure I wanted to do it, wouldn't I get seasick and end up vomitting? I did get seasick, and I did vomit after the ride. Did I enjoy parasailing? Definitely, it was the closest I was to flying. Valentines Day reminds us that love, as that wonderful movie says, is all around. And that even if you're hurt, or lonely, scared and hopeless that you'll ever find it, you should still go on. You may end up vomitting, but the feeling of giving love, and being loved, is the closest we have to flying.
Happy Valentines Day to all, and to all, a good night!
