Missing Your Family

My wife's smile warms my heart everytime I come home in the evening. I see my wife in the kitchen taking care of food. My son shouts, "Yehey" and run towards me to ride on my back (yes, even before I'm able to put down my computer bag). Then upon seeing that, my daughter comes to let me carry her in my arm (note, that's singular, coz my other arm supports my son at my back.)

Get the picture? I have kind of gotten used to that.

But once upon a time my mother-in-law in the province was sick and my wife was visiting her. Eighty-year olds needed more time and attention that we would like to think, and so my wife extended her time there to bring her mother to a doctor. I wanted my wife to do that. My mother-in-law was (and is) a very nice and supportive woman. I was so blessed. She deserved the time and attention. The least I could do was let my wife do her duty.

My kids were with my wife then, and I spoke to them only on the phone.

It felt kind of different to open the door of our home and not hear my son's voice rip through space, "Yehey!" and then not hear my daughter exclaim, "Daddy! Daddy!" in her own peculiar charming way. It felt different when I had to heat food myself.

That was when you really think, hard, even for a few minutes.

What matters most in life? really? At the end of the day, what is it indeed that makes your day?

Those kinds of days were a temporary thing for me, like fasting for a week. But there were millions of Filipinos who had that as a regular thing. They were hungry for voices and hugs and coffees from loved ones. I puked at the thought.

I could only thank God for my blessings, again and again and again, til I slept.

But then I also found myself praying for those whose hearts were thirsty that very moment.