Leaving Again

I watched the clouds before me, fluffy and dreamlike. Yet, my heart’s sight went beyond them. It travelled a hundred miles back, desperately seeking familiar cherubim faces of the children. I felt my heart tightening as if being squeezed from the inside. I couldn’t breathe. I felt constricted, helpless. The longing was so great I felt myself racking my brain for solutions that would make me cope with the pain. 90 days! By God, it seems almost eternal. I should have gotten used to this leaving again and again. But I guess there’s no getting used to leaving loved ones behind, knowing you’ve forfeited spending moments with them, time that you could not bring back, by being away. On my 2nd to the last night, Forest and I had a mini fight. She has toys all over the place. Just the day before that we’ve had a major war, cleaning Ate Janin’s room which they’ve currently designated as the TV room. (She is still sleeping with Lola.) There are boxes and boxes half-filled with random stuff. Most of them are Forest’s toys. It was utter chaos I threw a fit. It took a while and some bursts of temper but we managed to clean it all until it was tidy and spacious once again.

And then, just after a day, Forest had her usual clutter. When we were taking our nightly bathe, I pointed this out to Forest. I asked her why she’s at it again after we’ve just fought about it. Her reply, “Kasi wala man nagaturo sa akin. Kasi wala ka man.” It was a slap in the face but I tried to keep it light. “How about Lola then? Is Lola not teaching you? What I know I learned from her. What I am teaching you, ought to be teaching you, were taught to me by her. She’s the master. I was only a student under her.” But then she just repeated it, “Lagi ka man umaalis. So walang nagaturo sa akin.” I replied, “But you know why I have to leave. I have to work.” Forest: “Hanap ka pala ng work dito?” I continued, “That’s not true though. I am often home and had been teaching you a lot of stuff every time. Isn’t it?” Just then Lola came in and I repeated to her the conversation. Lola smiled and told Forest she had been teaching her stuff. Forest replied, “pero hindi dito sa bahay, ano gawin sa bahay.” Lola wailed, “That’s not true.” Sigh. Rod had a meltdown as well a week before that. The gist of our verbal war is that he had gotten used to my being away, he doesn’t care anymore. Despite being away for the most part, I am often home as well. More often than any OFWs are. And being their Mom, I still know them by heart. I know that half of what they’re saying is not actually true. I know it’s pain talking. I know too that deep down, they know that I love them more than life itself and that they love me back the same.

It shows more in the non-verbal gestures — Rod clinging to me, sleeping on my shoulder on our way to the airport; he’s hugging me in public, accepting a few of my kisses even when there are others around (around school, he absolutely forbids it, even with Tatay. Yet several times, he relented with me, not being mindful at all. He accepted a hug and a kiss as he head towards the school gates or when we were both at 711 near his school, waiting for Tatay.); Rod considering sleeping with us on my last night home until he acknowledged the what once was a very big bed has now become quite small with both him and Forest growing fast by the minute. It’s Forest insisting that I carry her, share a bath with her, brush my teeth with her...

I'm thinking now, I may be often away but I am truly grateful that I am able to be physically present during important milestones -- Kuya's graduation, his tuli, Forest's birthday, her moving up from Kindergarten... I work hard at making sure I am there where it counts. And again, I am truly grateful for it.