Friday, November 14, 2008

missing myself

a few blogs ago I wrote about missing someone...I am beginning to think that I am actually missing myself, not someone else. just feeling emotional, waxing emotional

i hear songs in my head.
they sound so far away

it's like when I used to spend vacation times in my aunt's house
in Calamba

I would lay on my back on the hardwood floor and feel the vibrations of the music coming from a jukebox below.

Roberta Flack. Killing Me Softly With His Song.
I don't remember the other songs.
All I know is that the jukebox plays all day long.

I have the image of that house in my mind.
Stone steps that end in front of a wide, hardwood door.
Wide, wooden sliding windows.
I still remember the cool breeze coming from them on the hottest parts of the day.

The old TV.
Sesame Street on.

The big, wide bedroom doors -- they creak just like in the horror movies.

The kitchen and dining area. I wonder why the floor there was not hard wood but slatted pieces of wood an inch and a half wide. I still remember the gaps and I remember looking down below through the gaps but I don't remember what I saw there.

Steaming hot white rice
Daing na bangus
Hmmm I can imagine the aroma of the vinegar, garlic, black pepper mix.

Red tomatoes
Purple onions

My four cousins.
My aunt pregnant with what would be twins.

Why did I practically grow up within my aunt's family?
Thursday nights then spelled excitement for me for I would get my small bag of clean clothes ready for Friday afternoon when my father would drop me off my aunt's house and pick me up Sunday afternoons.

I wonder...where were my siblings?
Where was my childhood at home?

I'll think about it
Maybe I will blog about it next time......

1 comment:

  1. very vivid, you took us to a childhood through your words. I can't wait for another chapter in this story.