My Earliest Memory

Hiding in my super cool shades!

There could only be three possible narrators of my life: I, You, or an omnicient being watching me since I was in my mom’s womb up to present. I can’t force those two after “I” to speak of my life story, so I’m left with this (hopefully worthy) task  of telling my own tales. (No expectations set, it’s not a classroom.)

My earliest memory dates back to my sixth birthday and the few days of preparation before this big bash– I mean cake, gifts, and balloons are great stuff not all kids get to have. I, especially.

Mom went to Japan (not to dance but to baby-sit) when I was, according to my aunt, three years old.  I was left to the care of my six-year old Ate and a bunch of funky aunts and only uncle. After graduating from high school in Camiguin, they dwelt in Cogeo to pursue college.

Have I mentioned we had a third sister then? She was sent to my father’s province, Bicol, ergo we didn’t hear from her in months.We were mom-less for eight months, until Tay finally convinced Nay their LDR would never work. I imagine Tay torturing Nay in his letters, expressing his daily longing to be with her. More so, I think Tay sneaked out some of our cute pics from my aunts’ photo album so as to persuade mom to come home.

Tay is really the pensive type of person. A man who broods over his own thoughts rather than share them to his neighbors, unless of course, they talk to him or ask him to fix something for them. He loves gardening and petting guard dogs. He often brought home TEMPO (even naming it after one of our dogs later), a simpler version of Manila Bulletin, it was the only daily newspaper he could afford then. On some Sundays, he would buy Philippine Star newspaper (in which we used to fight over the comics section), but none of these completely lured us to reading. He must’ve been disappointed.

I was a stereo-addict, not much a reader, before I came back to my parents’ and siblings’ home. I believe I got my father’s genes. His eyes. His eyebrows. Thankfully not purely his color. Perhaps, his temperament, but I bet I know how to make jokes. I do, right?

TBC.

Time says 12:02 AM. The hay awaits my back.

5 Replies to “My Earliest Memory”

  1. Bitin naman…

  2. hi, rod.hehe.. wait lang.. mahaba-haba eh.

  3. wanna see a close up child pic of you…without the sunglasses…hehe…please unfold more of your story for us…can’t wait to read more ^^,

  4. promise one thing.. you’ll never cry?hehehe… am sure you’ve got lots of stories to tell,too.. ikaw din.. kwento..para marami, para masaya!

  5. should i not cry when i see you cutie cute childhood pic? hehe….”makikinig” muna ako sa kwento mo ^^,

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