There was this big storm once, some time in the late 1980's. A family of four was wading through the flooded Buendia. The jeepney they were riding on had to stop because it could not pass through the deep water. They had to walk the rest of the way to the LRT station.
For the adults, it was an easy wade through knee-deep water. It was early afternoon, and there were a lot of stranded people walking in the same direction. But the five year-old child had to hold on to his mother's hand to keep himself steady because the flood reached up to his waist. The younger child, who was only two years old then (and had no memory of the incident whatsoever), had to be carried by his father.
The older child was determined to go through the floodwater without help. He was even surprised when his father once offered to carry him as well. He declined, and tightened his grip on his mother's hand. He was old enough for wading through waist-deep floodwater, the boy thought. "Kaya niya iyan," his mother told his father. The child thought that she was right.
After hours of traveling, they reached Malabon where they were staying then. The town was of course, notorious for being flooded often, and they found, unsurprisingly, that the road to their house was blocked and that they had to get themselves wet one more time. On the way, they met his father's friend who was also the older child's godfather. The godfather offered to carry the older child on his back, to the latter's surprise. They have been hours walking, but the child although tired, was willing to go through more miles of flood. He felt a certain pleasure in not being a burden to his parents. It made him feel like a grownup.
But soon, his feet left the wet ground and he found himself sitting on his godfather's shoulders. He knew it would be rude and foolish to protest, so he simply tried to make himself lighter to make it easier for his godfather. At first, he felt dizzy for being too high from the ground, and the rocking motion made him feel unsteady. He wished he was back walking on the ground like an independent person. He didn't like being treated as a child because he saw no point in it. His younger brother was asleep on his mother's arms.
The child grew up with an abnormal sense of independence. He was aware of what he needed to do. He didn't need his mother to tell him to do his assignments, or to study for his exams. His mother didn't need to scold him often because he didn't need telling twice. He listened to his mother and to his teachers, and did what he should do like a good boy should.
And now the boy has grown into a man, and one day the man realized that he was missing something in his life - being dependent on others.
Growing up brings its own kind of problems, he realized. Once you're freed from school, you begin to face new trials, and thankfully because of the hardships he had gone through in and out of school, he was well-equipped to face them. He waded through the flood of grownup problems, and was able to reach home. All on his own.
But sometimes, he wonders how it would have felt for someone to save him from his own problems. How it would have felt to encounter a problem and let someone take care of it, not even thinking about it once. He would have liked to know, even just once, how it feels for someone to be there for him - to hug him tight, and to assure him that everything will be alright. Because always facing problems on your own is not easy. It is exhausting. Tiring. Even if you know you can get through in the end.
Looking back, he realizes that he can't remember being hugged as a child. He never felt his mom embracing him, telling him that she loves him. Telling him that he was a wonder of a child, that she was thankful for having a son like him, always getting all sorts of achievements. He can't remember being appreciated by his parents, but he can vividly remember his father shouting at him:
"You think I'm happy that you are intelligent?! I'm not!!"
***
A couple of hours ago, I was sitting, watching the leaves fall in Sunken Garden. I was watching the gray sky and the green view. I was listening to music and smoking. I was enjoying the moment. Alone, yet happy in my own special emo way.
I was sitting there, waiting for the cool breeze to come. I want to feel it rustle through my hair, my clothes. I was waiting for the breeze because when I feel it cut through my clothes... When I feel it caressing me, I imagine I am being hugged by someone out there. Someone who will tell me that everything will be okay. That I will be taken care of.
...so true.
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