Today's Dreaming
How I wish my life stopped in kindergarten,
… when the opening hymns to Sesame Street and/or The Electric Company brought me pure, profound joy.
… when I can display my pinnacle for demanding-ness and have my Lolo love me even more for it, my “adorable, child-like precociousness.”
… when my least favorite classmate for the day could easily be my bestfriend tomorrow (and the cycle could never end, but nobody really got injured).
… when rejection only meant not getting into the prescribed set of Open The Basket participants.
… when pain only meant I had bukol.
… when 5 pesos was more than enough to see me through the day.
… when academic success meant learning how to draw circles or pasting the magazine cut-out within 2 inches of the mark.
… when disappointment does not really break a heart.
… when prayers at bedtime are shorter and not having them answered soon isn’t the most petrifying thing.
… when tears roll down only when I get pushed to the ground by an over-zealous patintero playmate.
… when ‘two sides to a story’ meant my story today and my story yesterday.
… when Mom would say ‘everything is gonna be alright,’ and I’d believe her instantly.
… when the only illness I know is a 38-degrees fever.
… when laughter came a lot easier.
… when trusting was as easy as putting on my slippers at the right feet.
… when death was a total stranger.
… when I still believed with all my heart that my Lolo and Lola will live forever and all it took was a simple request to the statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in our hallway every night before going to bed.
… when anger never necessarily led to a lifetime of hate.
… when the stories I’d hear are only those of Pinocchio’s, Cinderella’s, and Thumbelina’s (the kapres in santol trees are for daring days or when yaya couldn’t get me to come back inside the house at dusk).
… when the fiercest life principle was all about choosing not to share my Chocolait with a classmate who’s maarte.
… when idealism meant choosing strawberry over chocolate at the giant Magnolia freezer in the supermarket.
… when justice meant being able to split a bag of Big Boy evenly among 3.
… when all I wanted God to explain was why our family mongrel whom I’ve known my whole lifetime did not wake up that morning.
… when pride was all about beating the fastest runner of the class to the finish line in our weekly run around the school roundabout.
… when regret extends to a full hour, max, and never to the next day.
… when picking flowers or stopping to touch makahiyas was still a real part of my day.
… when letting go was easier.
… when war only meant fighting over the last piece of hotdog.
… when people who leave always come home at nightfall.
… when life was ultimately simple and thus so easy to understand, live, and love.
… when sadness was all about not getting my bottle of milk as quickly as I decided I wanted it (not even Mom leaving for work every morning - yes, while Dad was fathering twins elsewhere - caused me pain in any way. By 7pm, it’s pasalubong time, after all!).
… when I have not begun deciding what I want to be when I’m 50, less so started wondering if I will like myself then.
… when the people who feed, nourish, and nurture me are the only ones I truly love.
But, most of all, because it was a time when the people I love are just those who love me without pride, motive, or condition and never could, would imagine losing me. Ever.