Monday, March 25, 2013

i drank the kool aid

There's something about the 50's, 60's and 70's. I couldn't tell exactly what but I felt like I am born between those years. I am mesmerized with the people, the trend, the music, the stories that I get to hear (i can picture out the scenario in my head like i was there), the second-hand memories that are stored safely in my head and something more.

Maybe I just got an old soul. Maybe.

 On bad days, I take comfort in the past. It's one of the things in life that I am sure of - I'm sure that I was there, I felt what I felt, I get to experienced being touched, and it was all real. I even try to recall the oldest memories of my childhood. Oh how I enjoyed my freedom! Oh how much I was loved! 

I strongly believe that the capacity of a child's mind to imagine and explore is boundless. I was given the freedom to dream, to play, and to explore. I was allowed to draw in the plywood walls of our house without being scolded, my grandparents would provide me with unlimited stock of chalk everyday. I was so fascinated of how big my canvass was and so I kept doodling, scribbling, and writing. I was given books that I could read, color and cut in my every whim. I was allowed to play with the other kids in the neighborhood and every afternoon we would all go to our house because my grandma always prepare something for snack. I was allowed to have pets - I cuddled dogs and cats. I was allowed to ride a bike! I was allowed to climb trees. I was allowed to sit-in and participate in the advance classes of my grandparents and I would mingle with kids that is more than 5 years older than me. I was allowed to watch my grandpa dissect animals for his Science project. I was sent to piano classes on weekends and took lessons on ukelele for a while. I was allowed to play during brownouts - we would hide in the cabinets and dress up the pillows that it would look like a person. I was allowed to assist my granny when she prepares food and what I enjoyed most was when I get to stir the hotcake mix. 

I can go on and on with this story-telling without losing a boost from my energy. But I'd like to end this post with a tribute to the two people that I wish I could have known during their early years. I wish I was there when they were young. I wish we were friends. I wish I made life less difficult for them. I wish I made them smile with my silliness. I wish I could have cooked for them. I wish I could have done things with them - things that are best at, I wish I could have hold them longer. I wish I could have shared pictures with them.  I just wish that I was there during the years before age consumed them.

I give credit to my grandma and grandpa. I was able to experience the best of both worlds! 
A grandchild like me could not wish for anything more aside from TIME.

Then poof! Life happened - they passed on. I struggled to bring the pieces together. At 10 years old I didn't understand what death means. I wished someone could have explained it to me. I wished someone made me understand better. Because it seems that something in me died along with them as well. I am less of a person. I blamed myself on their death for some reasons. I was lost. I was broken. And I have always longed for my grandparents' love, touch, voice and presence. 

Years piled up and here comes today.