i was cleaning my luggage for i was about to stow it away in the deepest recesses of my closet when i happen to come upon a paper w/ chicken-like scrawl that can only be my handwriting. it was dated May 6, 2005 and goes like this...
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it was a first friday and my third day at Lucena City. we went to the cathedral and attended mass after work. i was busy fanning myself, having given up on trying to say the right responses to the priest, since the mass was said in tagalog, when the "salve regina" was sung. forgetting the heat and the buzz around me as some church goers made their way out of the cathedral, i concentrated on the hymn and remembered my childhood years at Ormoc.
i always welcomed the month of May with excitement and anticipation. at this time of the year, i can be an angel again, although i always regretted not being able to fly and play the harp angelically. the month of May is the time when flowers are in bloom and we offer them to the Blessed Mary, much to the delight of the flower vendors on the church's entrance. i also get to don on my long, off-white dress with sation flowers embroidered on it, white shoes, flowered head dress and of course, my angel wings! walking along the aisle while holding on to the letters of AVE MARIA, trying to show a serious and solemn face always give me fulfillment and excitement that never diminished until the day i stopped wearing my wings. the snacks after the mass was also well appreciated then Ü
what really struck me at this time is the memory of my mother who passed away years ago. she untiringly made angel wings to the kids who wanted to join the flores de mayo and repeatedly refuse any kind of payment from them. i see her making paper feathers and coercing my brother into cutting wing-shaped card boards. this infuriated my brother and gladdened me. haha! i had fun then and i had my mother then...
these few memories i treasure in my heart and hold on to dearly. i miss her so much but these memories keep her alive and make me feel secure and loved. i hungrily store and remember stories about her that her friends tell me. these memories and stories i hear are all i have. it has been years but, a mother's kiss on the child's check i see on the street, a motherly hug i witness on TV will always bring a longing in me. these feelings never left me cold inside. instead, i feel the warmth in her embrace and smile on her face.
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