Practically Sober

I always thought the world would stop and wait till I was ready to live. I thought life would be as simple as it was when we were still in Quezon City and the most important task during New Year’s Eve is not to get your pants burnt by watusi. But decades later, an ocean and 2 continents away, towards the end of 2007, I can’t help but look back at the saddest year for the Rodrigos. We lost 3 Rodrigo brothers in one year. Tito Bammy was the eldest of the brood. Tito Ambo was the black sheep, this I can state because that was no secret. Tito Luis was my Papa’s twin. All three died unexpectedly and without warning. No, time and death isn’t polite, I discovered. It doesn’t wait till you’re ready. Besides, no one is ever ready.

For as long as I can remember, New Year’s Eve has always been a solemn time for our family because, every year, we started our family reunion with a mass to pray for the repose of the soul of our grandfather, Lolo Martin, who went missing on New Year’s Eve of 1969. Can you imagine having to start 1970 with one’s father missing? It must have been a tragic moment for the Rodrigo brood then. They found Lolo Martin’s remains several gruelling hours or perhaps days after they started the search in a small hospital. Apparently he was a victim of a hit and run incident. He had no identification on him when he went out to visit with friends on the last day of 1969. So the police or the hospital had no way of informing my Lolo’s children of his terrible accident.

Imagine for all my life how that list of departed family members kept getting longer and longer every New Year’s Eve? Now it’s as close as ever, no longer one or two generations before us. Now more than ever I feel the need to record our stories. I need to write for my life. I need to write before all the stories die with us. I need to write as my gift to the generations to come.

If I had a safety deposit box, I would keep Time locked inside it. It’s my most precious treasure, I realized. Time spent with family. Both in the Philippines and in Canada. Time is a choice you give yourself and those people you love so dearly. When I choose to work in Manila, I spend time away from my family in Canada. When I choose to live in Canada, I am missing my family in Manila. There is no way of having a win-win situation here. It is all about making the most of what I have.

Which leads me to my heart’s dilemma for today. Time spent with friends and dear ones do not get an equal share of the pie, I’m afraid. At least not in my case and not since I’ve moved to Toronto. I get unreasonable when it comes to how this pie is shared whenever my heart is involved. But right now, this person I have in mind hasn’t reached the level of unreasonableness in my heart, which leads me to question the entire situation. Perhaps if, after going out with him for several months, I still don’t know whether he’s worth my time, then most likely I’ve already found the answer. If each time I’m with him, I feel as if I’m living inside a glass box, limiting the movements that my feelings dictate, afraid to cross those invisible lines, then I should probably re-think, re-focus and accept that my friend is only meant to be that—my first friend in Canada.

I woke up yesterday with a headache that spread from my right eye to the right side of the back of my head but I was able to beat it with one Advil and an hour’s nap before lunch. I woke up today with another headache but this time on the left side. Maybe it has something to do with sleeping at 2:00 am thinking about the year that’s been. This may mean that I’ll be sober tonight if I take more Advils today.

This may also mean that I’m looking forward to a sober 2008. I met up with someone for dinner and coffee last Friday and had a fine time. This person wasn’t quite sure though if we were out on a date or whether we were two friends catching up. I hate to make a person feel unsure because I know how terrible that feels as well. If there’s one thing I’m not sorry to end is this Grey period in my life. I’m done with grey areas and being neither here nor there. I left a question open-ended a while back. What do I mean when I say I’ll be there? When I say I’m here, I mean I’m here to stay. When I come into another’s life, I never come halfway, I come to shake that person's universe.