the circle of life

Now that I have discovered blogging, I am on a race against my own forgetfulness.

I feel that with blogging, I am establishing a link to my history so that my children, my family can peer back at who I am.

I had started to blog as a form of therapy I guess. Now, I just want to input all that I experience. Among the most memorable thus far while here in Toronto is my daughter's visit.

I thank my parents for bringing her over. I embraced the time they were all here. I enjoyed making the big meals to share with everyone. Sinigang, nilaga, tinola, chicken asparagus, mixed vegetables in peanut sauce...I was certainly quite the gourmet...much to my parents' surprise. Somehow, they have always thought I was totally clueless in the kitchen having been raised with our own personal cook.

How life's wheels turn.

I remember my mother serving me food as a child...making sure I ate well. Now, she is 78. It was my turn to make sure she was properly eating.

"Ma, gusto nyo ba ng strawberries? Igawa ko kayo ng may gatas? Oatmeal? Busog na ba kayo?"

Back then, my father would hold me tightly by the hand as we crossed the street. Now, I have him by the elbow. "Dad, dito tayo dadaan at ingatan nyo ang hakbang may pababa."

I became the one relied upon. It felt good that I was caring for my parents...though in simple ways, I know that they are bound to remember.

They have long gone. But still we have made a re-connection.

Already, my father was saying to me on the phone, "Bel, nami-miss ko ang lugar mo. Maganda dyan."

That was enough said. In his own way, I knew that he was missing me too.