Edited Update from my Status at Facebook
Mauro Gia Samonte
TOO LATE THE DIARY
December 14, 2012
All of a sudden I thought of recording my day-to-day activities henceforth. Something I have never done in all my past 71 years.
Maoie (my eldest) finally got the guts to tell me what I had been hinted about by Beth (wife) and Paulo (my second eldest) just lately. He and Keng are moving to another house, together with Thirdy, Tiffany (children of Maoie) and Gia (unica ija of unica ija Keng), of course.
Read More
It pains, but I don’t show it. It’s the same old vain, arrogant me. Never admitting I’m hurt when in fact I am exceedingly.
So it would seem odd that what I detested to do, or at least didn't care to do in my youth as other typical youngsters would, I endeavor to do even with a sense of desperation now that I am into the thinning of my years.
Like in one fell swoop, the family is crumbling. Irremediably it seems. I don’t have the humility to fall on my knees to beg them to stay. And they are determined to live their lives their way. Unavoidably then, a question pesters me. I have always wanted to keep the family together., and so where have I gone wrong?
The answer won’t come easy. Right now I don’t know. It will take a study of a lifetime to answer the question – if at all. So I'm seized with this urgent need for something by which to put down in writing whatever comes up in this regard on a day-to-day basis.
Keng follows through what Maoie has already opened up to me. I discourage any further talk on the topic. What’s the use of talking when you could end up crying. And I am an incorrigible cry baby. And so struggling to keep an stoic mien, I tell her that if she must go, leave Gia to me.
“You could come to the house,” she says. And that’s it. Gia parts from me – for the first time ever in the happiest seven years of my life..
Anyway, I call Gia for a last-minute review of an item in her CAE (Communication Arts in English) folder which I purposely set aside for tackling just before she goes to school so it’ll be fresh in her mind when she takes the exam scheduled today.
The item: “The Legend of the Bluebonnet: An Old Tale of Texas” by Tommie dePaola.
"The next morning it began to rain."
Mauro Gia Samonte
TOO LATE THE DIARY
December 14, 2012
All of a sudden I thought of recording my day-to-day activities henceforth. Something I have never done in all my past 71 years.
Maoie (my eldest) finally got the guts to tell me what I had been hinted about by Beth (wife) and Paulo (my second eldest) just lately. He and Keng are moving to another house, together with Thirdy, Tiffany (children of Maoie) and Gia (unica ija of unica ija Keng), of course.
Read More
It pains, but I don’t show it. It’s the same old vain, arrogant me. Never admitting I’m hurt when in fact I am exceedingly.
So it would seem odd that what I detested to do, or at least didn't care to do in my youth as other typical youngsters would, I endeavor to do even with a sense of desperation now that I am into the thinning of my years.
Like in one fell swoop, the family is crumbling. Irremediably it seems. I don’t have the humility to fall on my knees to beg them to stay. And they are determined to live their lives their way. Unavoidably then, a question pesters me. I have always wanted to keep the family together., and so where have I gone wrong?
The answer won’t come easy. Right now I don’t know. It will take a study of a lifetime to answer the question – if at all. So I'm seized with this urgent need for something by which to put down in writing whatever comes up in this regard on a day-to-day basis.
Keng follows through what Maoie has already opened up to me. I discourage any further talk on the topic. What’s the use of talking when you could end up crying. And I am an incorrigible cry baby. And so struggling to keep an stoic mien, I tell her that if she must go, leave Gia to me.
“You could come to the house,” she says. And that’s it. Gia parts from me – for the first time ever in the happiest seven years of my life..
Anyway, I call Gia for a last-minute review of an item in her CAE (Communication Arts in English) folder which I purposely set aside for tackling just before she goes to school so it’ll be fresh in her mind when she takes the exam scheduled today.
The item: “The Legend of the Bluebonnet: An Old Tale of Texas” by Tommie dePaola.
The story tells of a terrible drought that befalls the Comanche tribe.
The Great Spirit tells the Comanche Chief to find a thing most loved by
its owner which must be burned in order to end the drought that has been
causing widespread hunger among the Comanche people. The Chief tells it
to his daughter, whose most loved possession is a doll with a headdress
made from blue jay feathers.
The family has been into its own long terrible drought. It can no longer hold on to me. It’s about time I let go, like the Chief’s daughter who, realizing her sacrifice of her doll would free her people from hunger, went out into the night, burned her doll in a fire and let its ashes be carried by the wind all the way up to the clouds.
Reading the story to Gia gave me just that excuse to speak with a pain-laden voice, a quiver in my throat, mist in my eyes.
The family has been into its own long terrible drought. It can no longer hold on to me. It’s about time I let go, like the Chief’s daughter who, realizing her sacrifice of her doll would free her people from hunger, went out into the night, burned her doll in a fire and let its ashes be carried by the wind all the way up to the clouds.
Reading the story to Gia gave me just that excuse to speak with a pain-laden voice, a quiver in my throat, mist in my eyes.
"She hugged the doll for the last time. 'Goodbye. I will miss you.' Tears fell from her eyes as she laid her doll on the fire. 'You will always be in my heart.'"
"The next morning it began to rain."
Walang komento:
Mag-post ng isang Komento