The algorithmic preferences of any parent or grandparent for that matter may have changed and toned down through the years, but the only constant in one’s social media page, is updates on their children or babies in their family. In all the time past, I’ve seen a parade of infants born of nieces and nephews and grandchildren by my siblings. As it is, we have five great-grandchildren in the clan. Seeing their beaming faces as posted by their proud parents on social media has only reminded one how time flies, as though you were rooted in one spot. In celebration of this profound feel, I share what I wrote little over a year ago, in an attempt to capture those moments at having one of your own.
I never got to see my eldest son’s first baby steps because he was flown back to Davao by my brother, while still an infant. I was at the tail-end of my singing stint in Manila then and had already made plans to go back home and resume my studies, so my baby went ahead. However, with my second son, I was one excited witness. It happened on his first-year birthday party when, after all the guests had gone and we were all alone in the room, he stood up and slowly waddled his way towards me and his newly-opened toys. I still recall that what I felt at that time was a mixture of joy, excitement and a little sadness.
You see, there is something poignant in a baby’s first steps. As he walks towards you, unsure and awkwardly-cute in his gait, the determination and purpose shining through those little eyes are, at the same time, tell-tale hints that, later in life, when he is grown, he will be walking away from you to lead a life all his own.
Fast forward twenty years. One Monday, my youngest son who’s now in college, sent me a message that he was headed downtown as part of a school project. Nothing new in that really, as we have grown accustomed to numerous forays and explorations by him and his friends throughout their schooling years.
He arrived home several hours later and excitedly narrated that he had walked a great length of the city to “feel its pulse”. From the public market, he had gone to the memorial park (to lay a wreath at his grand mom’s grave), then on some more to the north side, and finally ending at a mall there.
This instantly brought me back to the memory of those initial baby steps twenty years ago, and while I felt that same twitch of melancholia, this was somehow different. Indeed, my son has traveled a long way, and confirmed his transcendence. This time, there is no sadness there. Only a warm pride that every parent feels; be it at graduation rites, recognition ceremonies, and other measures of accomplishment one’s children had gone and won through.
In the most profound sense, it is likewise an affirmation that we parents, are again held witness. All throughout this life, there shall always be these long walks, some innocently starting towards a heap of baby toys, and leading to that yawning expanse of the great world outside. It is just so awesome to think, our children still have many more roads to go and adventures to explore and enjoy.
