A Little Bit of Backstory
I forgot to mention that ever since a couple of years ago, our Mom has been petitioning us to join her in the US. Of course, up until this time I've considered it as one of her many empty promises. She has been telling us about her taking us to the States since we were little, since she left.
The US (and any other foreign country, for that matter) has always been a subject of great interest to me. Whenever I read a book and see that it's been published in New York, or Chicago, or any other of those great cities, I think about going there in the future and having my book published by these eminent publishing houses. Europe (especially France) has always intrigued me as well, but my dreams of going there were sidetracked when my Mom left us to start working in Chicago.
For the first couple of years she was gone, life went on with me and my brothers. We didn't even think that something was wrong between her and Dad, even though they've been fighting since we were kids (we somehow considered this normal). For some reason, I don't remember missing her much back then. But then maybe's that's just because there were (yet again) empty promises of her coming back soon. By 3rd year high school, I realized that she wasn't coming back anytime soon, and resigned myself to that fact. The next year, she told me she wanted to take me to the US as a graduation gift, but that never really happened as well. There was, perhaps for a time, some hidden resentment towards my mother.
Little did my adolescent mind know that processing immigration papers to the US is actually a very long process that may take years, or even decades. So while I was enjoying my college life, and slowly rooting myself to my new friends, and our new home (we had moved back to Teachers Village, closer to the University), little did I know that the cogs of bureaucracy were turning ever so slowly, pushing my papers forward, bit by bit.
It was just last year when Mom finally confirmed to us that our papers were next in line to be processed, and to expect us to get interviewed at the embassy in a few months. We were finally interviewed over a month ago. To say it was disastrous would be an understatement. My brothers and I were pretty nervous and I don't think we answered the questions right. We kind of lost hope because I was turning 21 soon and the petition for a dependent minor expires when that minor becomes, well, a legal adult.
I myself was torn back then. On the one hand, I was losing my chance of going to the US and exploring the world outside our small archipelago. On the other hand, I was in the midst of doing my college thesis. I was almost graduating, and I didn't want anything (not even a trip outside the country).
As soon as we got back home from the embassy, Mom called us up.
"Ano ba kasi tinanong ng consular officer?"
"She asked kung kumusta yung marriage mo with dad. she just wanted proof of the termination of your marriage. i think para makita na you severed ties with the Philippines, dyan ka na talaga, and you didn't marry for the visa."
"E, ano sinagot niyo?"
"We said we didn't know."
"Sus, ano ba yan Adrian. ano ba namang sagot yan."
"E hindi naman talaga namin alam e, Mom. You and dad never told us about your separation and your subsequent marriage in 2003. Kung hindi kami iinterbyuhin-"
"Mahal I'm going to take a shower na. Basta yung mga affidavits ha. Tapos don't forget to pray for the success of your application. You need to get here na."
"Yes Mom."
"Punta ka sa... sa... Santa Clara. Mag-offer ka ng itlog, okay? Talk to one of the nuns there to pray for you."
"Yes Mom."
"Hindi na ako tatagal anak, paubos na minutes ko."
"Yes Mom."
"Mahal, I miss you na. Punta ka na dito."
"Okay."
"Love you, mahal."
"Love you too, Mom."
Later that evening, our loving Tita Lina dropped by with a box of Shakey's Pizza, much to our delight. Right after stuffing ourselves with it, she then proceeded to explain what's been going on between Mom and Dad, while Dad looked silently on. We have always had an ambivalent relationship with Dad, who never talked much, sometimes to our consternation. Therefore he felt that his older sister needed to intervene, and do all the explaining for him.
Even after all this explaining what the past couple of years were all about, we resigned ourselves to the fact that we may never get to the US, and that all of this preparation was in vain, just because of a lack of communication. That said, I continued rewriting my concept, which I had just presented to our professors a couple of weeks ago, and which needed heavy revision.
postscript: Okay, so this was more of a LOT of Backstory. I feel that this needs to be written though. Mom does a lot of things even I don't understand, after all this time. Carl is right: we have to stop being protagonists in the absurdist slapstick comedies that are our lives.