Your favorite memory, in great detail (17/30)
Newspaper and Coffee | BW, a photo by on Flickr.
"January 22,2009."
It was dawn. I was working on a project online before I went to school. My classes started late so I had plenty of time to finish. I had a pretty good feeling about that day. As the rest of the house started to get up, I didn't pay any attention because of the deadline for my articles or something like that. I don't really remember. But I can recall the chilly January air and the pale sunshine peeking from behind the clouds.
My father came home from a morning run to buy bread from the bakery with more than the usual loaf. He had some baffling news that left him slightly bothered. My mother was grinning while he recounted the news that our neighbor shared with him. "I was in Laguna two days ago when I picked up a copy of The Philippine Daily Inquirer. I think I saw your daughter's name on one of the articles..."
I was caught by surprise when my mother rushed into the room. She told me to log on to the newspaper's website to confirm whether or not the news was true. With a rapidly thumping heart, I clicked and waited. It seemed like time had stopped. I was so nervous that my hands shook. Praying silently in my head, I was torn between hope and disappointment...
"Talking to the Universe..."
My heart exploded with a thousand emotions. Before I knew it, I was being hugged and kissed by my proud mother. I was jumping into the air with my arms waving wildly. I was thanking God in front of our family altar with joy overflowing in my heart. I was so happy! I've never been so happy! I was published! It was a most magnificent and terrifying moment. I was published at only 19-years-old! It was an omen for greater things!
(My father was quiet in the sidelines. He who never believed in my talent was silenced. He who never understood was confused. I was sure that he felt both pride and apprehension that his wayward daughter was a success at 19-years-old.)
Everything was a blur after that. Meeting up with Arvin, buying a copy of the newspaper in a stall in the wet market, rushing to school- I was in heaven. I couldn't be bothered to come back down to earth.
When I walked into school, I sauntered in with the confidence of a young woman who knew her worth. I didn't need to be validated by anyone's opinion. I didn't need to be accepted. Heavens, I didn't even want to belong anymore! All I knew was that I was special. This was how I would make my mark.
During our break time, I showed the newspaper to one of my classmates. I don't know why I chose her. She went screaming to our other classmates about the news.
Suddenly, I was engulfed in applause and laughter and congratulations. I was accepted. I was the pride of the establishment. All of the teachers wanted to read. All of my classmates wanted to know- "how did you get in?", "why did you write that?", "how does it feel?"- and they adored me. I was someone who meant something.
The high lasted for a maximum of three days. I was the center of attention for at least fifteen minutes. My family was happy. My parents were proud. And people who really read it told me that they liked it and that they were inspired because of it.
I cannot tell you how much I love this memory. I love remembering the rush that I got when I began the piece and when it got published. I love reliving the sweet moment of success; I adore the delicious rush of joy. It's everything that I ever wanted. It's what I truly deserved. Perhaps God was good when He put my pen into paper to write down His inspirational word.
I want to remember my most magnificent memory forever.