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February 5, 2007

It's my mom's 23rd birthday


At least that's what she says while flipping her hair on one side like a true-blue debutante.

Lately, I count my days by the nights I spend awake, frustrated that I can't get out of this roomless house. I've had tantrums. "Mabuang ko diri, mamatay ko, mabuang ko, di ko kalihok, dapat naa koy lugar nga ako rang usa. Ayaw ko'g samuka," I tell her. She's endured my childish spiels. It will be a perpetual wonder how. Perhaps that's how love is spelled.

I won't go guessing her real age.

I'd rather remember that time when I was six or seven and she was walking back and forth, imagining a catwalk perhaps, in a new pair of shorts and blouse, with the words H-U-G M-E.

I asked her what it meant. I thought she didn't hear me. But she did. "Gaksa ko," she said while opening her arms.

2 comments:

Michael U. Obenieta said...

Now I know where the lovely sultriness comes from. :)

ivi said...

ver,

give some love to your mom. or let's hope she could take your tantrums as your own definition of love.

either that, or she's become numb.
hopefully not.

because at times they may fit our domestic definition of a witch, but hey, they figured in a lot of our best childhood memories, and in growing up as well.

happy 23rd!