a favorite past-timeThis morning, I woke up in a panic, thinking I was going to miss my flight. I reached for my cel phone to check the time and noticed the post-it note hanging from the lampshade. In the post-it is the list of the things I need to pack. Realizing that today is a Tuesday brought out a sleepy smile…I lay back and savor another 20 minutes in bed. Tomorrow, I’m going home.
Holy Week usually brings me to places I’ve never been before. Instead of meditating at home during Lent, I find new places more conducive to reflect on my faults and virtues. But this year, I decided to go home for the Holy Week holidays, to be with my relatives in Negros, visit my 96-year-old grandmother, catch up with old classmates and childhood friends, and explore my old hometown.
After all the journeys I’ve made, there’s a primordial instinct to go back to where it all began, where I came from, where my roots are. I am a firm believer in the old saying, “Huwag maging dayuhan sa sariling bayan” (Let’s not be strangers in our own land), so I explore the archipelago every chance I got. But paid little attention to my hometown’s nuances that makes it different from all the other places I’ve seen and visited. In a way, I’m a stranger to the place that nurtured my childhood, been away for most of my adult life. I know a week is not enough, but I’m going home and try to rediscover my roots, and perhaps, in the process, rediscover myself.
Holy Week usually brings me to places I’ve never been before. Instead of meditating at home during Lent, I find new places more conducive to reflect on my faults and virtues. But this year, I decided to go home for the Holy Week holidays, to be with my relatives in Negros, visit my 96-year-old grandmother, catch up with old classmates and childhood friends, and explore my old hometown.
After all the journeys I’ve made, there’s a primordial instinct to go back to where it all began, where I came from, where my roots are. I am a firm believer in the old saying, “Huwag maging dayuhan sa sariling bayan” (Let’s not be strangers in our own land), so I explore the archipelago every chance I got. But paid little attention to my hometown’s nuances that makes it different from all the other places I’ve seen and visited. In a way, I’m a stranger to the place that nurtured my childhood, been away for most of my adult life. I know a week is not enough, but I’m going home and try to rediscover my roots, and perhaps, in the process, rediscover myself.
luna,
ReplyDeleteHave a great time
Reflect
Recollect
Reconnect
Rediscover
dagul
To be able to go home is a privilege, especially if one has been away, in places where nothing seems familiar.
ReplyDeleteI spent this Holy Week at home, though, and I am bored to death. Ha! I need a trip to Boracay quick!
“Huwag maging dayuhan sa sariling bayan” i really lie this slogan =)
ReplyDeletehope you had a nice vacation, happy easter!
I had a great time, pusa! Thank you.:D
ReplyDeleteBora is waiting for you, Migs! It's a great place for the young [and the young at heart], but for senior citizens like me, Bora in summer feels like Divisoria.:D
ReplyDeleteIt was good to be home...'a safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.'
Thank you, Dagul. I did all that...and was pleasantly surprised!
ReplyDelete