During a rare early morning walk, I stop awhile to check out what a parked open pick-up was selling. Durian for 20 pesos a kilo! A makeshift spot with a couple of those short mono-block stools is situated nearby, and already a lone biker is going at with his purchased fruit. A few minutes go by and a Transformer pulls in. Now, for the information of some readers who don’t know what I’m talking about, it’s one of those converted Japanese mini-vans that’s quite popular here in the country. From out of the vehicle, a woman and a tiny pig-tailed girl, pretty in her Sunday dress, alight and with that perfect Kodak image, I’m thrown back to a once-familiar scene.
During one such Sunday a few years ago, a familiar vehicle parks in front of the old house and the family of my niece comes out, with a tiny tot in tow. One of our “unofficial” great-grandkids! I have two sons but as yet, no grandchildren to call my own. However, by my late brother alone, his children (three nieces and a nephew) have already given us eleven grandchildren and five great grandchildren. Sort the numbers out later but to confuse you further, I’ve presently got eighteen nephews and nieces by my siblings, with a total of twenty-one grandchildren and five great-grandchildren!
When my parents were still alive, we would occasionally have lunch in the old mothership in Bajada, the otherwise family version of a barrio fiesta. A classmate had once asked if I could remember the names of each and I can only nod smiling (and lying of course), knowing full well I have complete list saved in our personal computer back home as reliable reference.
It’s now been quite a while since I saw them little folks. Of late, three apos had already migrated, dwindling the number a bit. During last month’s celebration of mom’s passing, only a handful of us were able to make it at the memorial park. Quite understandable, it had been on a week day and most of the younger brood were either in school or at work. We seniors laugh it off, accepting that surely, the time would come when only us and other retirees would have free time for reunions and such occasions.
The idea makes one pensive I know, and save for waxing poetic, the reality of it all is sometimes quite sad. I’d suggest one dig up the lyrics to “Cats in the Cradle” and we could perhaps delve into this whole sad feel further. However, as it is, one can only say, ‘oh well’ and just breathe, sigh or whatever. For all I know, everyone harbors this silent wish kept close to their hearts, fervently wishing their children won’t grow up and to stay as the tiny cute people they used to be in the younger days. Yet the truth is, they do and as the world turns, they’ll eventually grow up and have children. In turn, apos will have their own too and lucky you, if you’re still around, you get to see the whole show.
