I woke up last night to the quiet sound of my mom beside me, crying. I asked her groggily what was wrong and she said “I’m just kind of sad. Miss ko na ang daddy mo.”
And I remembered that, oh yeah, tomorrow was January 13th. My parents’ wedding anniversary.
“Second time na naming di magkasama sa anniversary namin.”
Trying to make her feel better, I joked around and suggested what the two of us could do to celebrate anyway.
“Mommy, let’s drink the huge Tequila laying around since forever inside the shelf! SHATS SHATS SHATS tayo tomorrow, it’ll be fuuunn! We can even share some with lola. HAHAHAHA.”
She just looked at me from the darkness filling the room, gave a little grin, and turned her back on me. She got her cellphone and began texting.
“I’m going to send your dad an extra special message at exactly 12 midnight,” she told me.
“Okayyyy, para kang infatuated 16 year-old. Anyway, you have about 30 minutes. Good luck with that.” And I went back to sleep.
Somehow I find it very strange that I am always acting a little skeptic when my parents express their love for each other. People who know me even from afar can already say that cynicism is just not my thing: I still buy the donate-here-and-make-ALL-your-wishes-come-true gimmicks they make at theme parks and malls; I still spend hours watching (and bawling over) romantic marriage proposals on YouTube; and yeah, I still have The Official Disney Soundtrack (all five volumes of them) on Brigette (my iPod).
So maybe the world has already predicted that I am extremely encouraging of my parents’ sweet display of affection. And actually, world? Hmm. Not really.
Maybe I’m being bitter. Maybe it’s because I feel I have the need to show them that I BLAME THEM for my turning out to be like this: the self-proclaimed Queen of the Hopeless Romantics (oh, how ironic). But that’s not true at all either. Although they give me more reasons to lock myself up in my room, talking to myself in the mirror why can’t I just have the same love my parents are giving each other (selfish me talking),they also in fact give me hope. Hope that a love like that exists somewhere and I don’t have to go very far for proof. And for that I thank them very much. Yes, I thank them very much for loving each other despite my cringing over their schmaltzy phone calls that go on for hours and the million adjectives they use when describing each other to new acquaintances. This recognition, however, will not stop me from being derisive (at least to them) just because it’s funnnn to be one HAHA. Anyway, enough of me.
So today 21 years have already passed since my dad first proved his love for my mom (despite their differences in faith, he married her in a Catholic church in Cavite, orders by my mom’s unpredictable father). 21 years have already passed since my mom also proved that age doesn’t matter at all. When it’s love, it’s love (she’s SIX years older than my dad, HAHAHAHA MOMMY IDOOOL).
They met each other at a computer school in Manila in the early 80’s. My dad, a kinda fresh college graduate, was there because he wanted to open his own computer school. My mom, a rich kid who didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life yet, was there because computers were the “up and coming thing” (and now she keeps insisting that she doesn’t know how to shut down a computer).
My dad was a brainy guy, skinny-looking in nerdy pants and shoes with a—oh gawwd I can’t believe I’m saying this but this is according to my mom anyway-pogi face that went with all of it (hence, his title was officially “Pogi” to my mom’s mom, my mom went on saying “He made being nerdy look good” (Mommy, Hkgnkneksbrkwnljfa!!!)). But my dad’s pogi-ness (*I’m puking already* HAHAHAHA) wasn’t what became attractive first and foremost to my mom. My mom first fell for my dad’s brains.
But they became friends so she started to ignore her attraction (grabe, my mom believes in Guy Friends, if I was put in that situation I might have already planned out the whole entourage for my wedding with him). And then they became Super BFFs and being with my dad all the time became particularly hard for my mom as her attraction for him that she tried to ignore began surfacing more than ever (ECHOS). So she tried to divert herself with other guys (those Mom’s Other Guys my siblings and I make fun of on a regular basis). And then my dad started getting jealous.
My mom claims that when he took her hand that moment, she knew they had officially become a couple. No straight-from-a-Meg Ryan-movie-scene conversations to clarify just what they were exactly. No long, romantic declarations of love. Just that simple gesture and they knew already. They didn’t have to say anything.
Me to my dad: Daddy, eew. Ang lame mo. Di ka marunong manligaw! EEEW.
Daddy: Syempre naman. Hindi ako ang nanliligaw. Sila ang nanliligaw saakin. Ganyan talaga.
Umm, yeah, daddy. You are. HAHA.
Months later they were engaged and then married.
I feel bad for them. I know that the reason why neither of them left the country for better options in life(even if we really needed those options) is because they hate being away from us three and from each other. They always taught us that the relationship we have in the family is more important than having the latest iPhone. I didn’t want to agree with them back then but right now I am slowly figuring out the things that really matter in life.
Take my mom for example. She had been sacrificing a whole heck of a lot for the past year already. And I’m so proud of her. My mom’s proving right now that not only is she the best mother in the world but she’s also the best daughter in the world. And I’m also glad that my dad’s supportive even though he’s having a hard time keeping up with running a school during the weekdays and doing the laundry during the weekends.
And this is what I want.
I want someone who 21 years later still makes me cry at night because I miss him like he’s my first love and this feeling I have for him is so new and foreign that I want and need to have more of it. I want someone who 21 years later still gives me butterflies—no pterodactyls—inside my stomach whenever I see his name on my inbox or hear his name on the phone. I want someone who 21 years later still inspires me to come up with more sweet things to tell him every single day. I want someone who 21 years later still makes me feel sixteen.
And yeah, I want someone who 21 years later still makes me feel like he’s a teenage hearthrob and I’m his number one fan.
(Mom and I every single day)
Mommy: Bilib talaga ako sa daddy mo.
Me: Uhuuuhhh.
*2 minutes later*
Mommy: Grabe talaga ang daddy mo. Ang galing nya talaga.
Me: Yeah. Sinabi mo na yan.
*Another 2 minutes later*
Mommy: AAAAAAAAAAAH. IDOL KO TALAGA ANG DADDY MOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Me:(facepalms) KEEEEEEL MEEE NOOOOW.
Mommy:………………
Me:…………….
Mommy: Amazing, awesome talaga and daddy mo.
They may not call themselves rich with material things but they will always be rich with their love for each other. And at the end of the day, that’s what gives you more reasons to, well, wake up the day after.
To my dad and mom, it is officially four more years until my siblings and I could come up with an impossible way to give you your dream garden wedding. Until then, separated as you are at the moment, I hope today’s a happy day anyway.
