Typical childhood story. I was about five and like any other kids, wanted to belong. That day I brought out my remote control-operated toy car that Papa bought me for Christmas. That was my favorite treat inside the Balikbayan box he sent us that year. I marched all the way to where the other boys were playing, teeming with pride thinking that they would respect me for having something none of them have at that time. But I was wrong. Before I could even start my bragging speech, Tonio, the biggest kid who everybody was afraid of, gestured to one of his little "sidekicks" something that I didn't exactly understand. Next thing I know I was guarding the toy with my whole life. I didn't want to let go, but I was outnumbered. Instead of an incentive, the shiny little red Ferrari became a burdensome piece of junk I never wished I received at all. I ran back to the house, straight to the kitchen where I know Mama always was. She was horrified to see my black and blue face. I was crying so bad.
"Anak, why didn't you just give it to them right away?" she asked as she cleaned my wounds with wet cloth and antiseptic.
"But that's my favorite. It's Papa's present," I justified, in between sobs.
"Papa can always buy you a new one. Next time don't play with those boys anymore. Hala, go wash yourself so we can have dinner."
That was my first taste of life's cruelty and in my mind ran so many why's that I could not answer. Why do kids hurt other kids? Why did they always want to pick on me? Why didn't I fight back? Yet, of all the questions I was asking myself, I could never forget the only thing I raised to my mother. "Mama," I said, still sobbing, "why do my tears taste salty?" I noticed a certain tenderness swept through her face. Mama smiled gently and said it was because of the presence of "sodium" and "potassium." Of course I didn't understand those big words, but she further explained these complex optical processes over dinner. Yes, to a five-year-old.
That's Mama. She always finds a way to make me completely forget about the pain I am experiencing. That's why I'm still perplexed after Tonet called me in the office a couple of hours ago.
That's Mama. She always finds a way to make me completely forget about the pain I am experiencing. That's why I'm still perplexed after Tonet called me in the office a couple of hours ago.
"Hello, Tonet?" Silence. "Huy. Are you okay?"
"Kuya, ang Mama..." Silence again.
"Okay, I'd be there in an hour."
Two hours though and I'm still stuck at EDSA. Tonet kept on texting but I didn't want to open any of them. I felt like a coward, exactly how I felt the day I first tasted life's cruelty. I was just there, staring outside the gigantic bus window, trying to make sense once again of life's big concepts, like when I first heard of "sodium" and "potassium." I'm so used to life's harsh blows that I feel like I have an intrinsic positive valence for bad luck. I don't cry a lot though. When I look back, there were just two other instances my entire life when I really cried. When, instead of Christmas treats, it was Papa's body we received inside the Balikbayan box from Saudi. And when we found out Mama has terminal breast cancer. Sometimes I don't know what more can life throw at me. Today though, it gave me another.
I didn't want to cry but I could not hold it in any longer. Amidst the sound of the air condition and the faint voices of people murmuring, I just let them slide, down my cheeks, to my lips, to the edge of my chin from where it finally dropped to the bus' window sill. Like a five year old kid, I felt curious and tasted them. They didn't taste anything at all. Mama didn't tell me that tears can lose its saltiness. Unfortunately, I cannot anymore ask her why. #
"Kuya, ang Mama..." Silence again.
"Okay, I'd be there in an hour."
Two hours though and I'm still stuck at EDSA. Tonet kept on texting but I didn't want to open any of them. I felt like a coward, exactly how I felt the day I first tasted life's cruelty. I was just there, staring outside the gigantic bus window, trying to make sense once again of life's big concepts, like when I first heard of "sodium" and "potassium." I'm so used to life's harsh blows that I feel like I have an intrinsic positive valence for bad luck. I don't cry a lot though. When I look back, there were just two other instances my entire life when I really cried. When, instead of Christmas treats, it was Papa's body we received inside the Balikbayan box from Saudi. And when we found out Mama has terminal breast cancer. Sometimes I don't know what more can life throw at me. Today though, it gave me another.
I didn't want to cry but I could not hold it in any longer. Amidst the sound of the air condition and the faint voices of people murmuring, I just let them slide, down my cheeks, to my lips, to the edge of my chin from where it finally dropped to the bus' window sill. Like a five year old kid, I felt curious and tasted them. They didn't taste anything at all. Mama didn't tell me that tears can lose its saltiness. Unfortunately, I cannot anymore ask her why. #
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