My hometown is the last place I would want to love. Despite the great memories it holds, it also carries the weight of family issues, failed friendships, and toxic cultures, all of which I endeavored to escape.
Except that this year, I was compelled not to run away from it.
Many of you know that Mom had a life-threatening disease that required her to undergo not one, but two medical procedures — high-risk major surgeries for an immune-compromised senior citizen like her. She didn't have to, but Mom begged me to stay here for months.
If you were ever in a romantic relationship with me, you would know that my solution to big relationship problems is to walk, no, to run away. I recognize that I might need therapy to address this. And I am very sorry for good partners who had to endure this sad abandonment issue of mine. As for bad partners, they probably deserve it.
I admit, staying here in Las Piñas initially brought out the worst in me. I have the temperament of my late Uncle George, easily frustrated when things do not happen at a pace that's necessary. Mom and I had huge fights, too. Mom was the emotional one, and I, the logical one. We were like two parallel lines that do not meet.
But just like what my high school geometry teacher said, parallel lines meet at some point.
My most difficult conversations with Mom are the most important ones. It's like getting to know Mom the second, third, or many more times around.
It is not only Mom that I got to know on a deeper level. I have also started seeing Las Piñas in a new light.
I met the most amazing people in our hometown — neighbors and friends who are willing to help even if we can no longer give them anything in return. Ka Naty, my newfound friend, endured sleeping less to accompany me to DSWD twice, once in Baclaran and another in Batasan QC, to get financial help. If you've been to DSWD, the lines there are super long. I realized I could be patient, having to learn to wait for five to nine hours in line to get financial help.
For the second time, I also learned to appreciate the food from our small eateries, like Resha's nuts and Nano's pansit bihon. I also sat down and enjoyed a hot bowl of sopas at Ka Belinda's karinderia. I could still remember Ka Belinda's small spot at Tramo Street more than two decades ago. I would buy merienda there using my remaining daily school allowance. I would never forget when Ka Belinda told me, "Salubong ang kilay mo, ano?" suggesting that those with bushy connected brows are snobs. I was nine years old then. Maybe I am a snob.
It felt good to bring back those memories while I enjoyed the hot soup post-Simbang Gabi. I completed all nine mornings of this mass. I just felt that I have to do it. I felt I have to talk to God more now, as these are all memories of childhood being modified by memories of my adulthood.
Most of all, it is in my hometown that I celebrated Christmas the best. I never really celebrated Christmas anywhere in the world but here. And as this chapter of my life is about to end to usher a new one, it felt like a full-circle moment that I have to go through. Many friends asked how I am; I cannot say that I am happy right now. I am more at peace, contemplative even, tired, yes.
I think this is what love is genuinely about. I think for three decades I got the definition wrong. True love doesn't come out from beautiful things. It emerges from tragedy. It is the capacity to endure suffering. It's the choice to stay despite it all. It is loving more even with the risk of losing everything.
So, from my imperfect yet unique hometown of Bayan, Las Pinas, I wish you all a Merry Christmas. Gone are the days of the yuletide season being merry and drunk; let's spend this time resting, contemplating, loving... even if it hurts.
Maligayang Pasko...
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