It was a quiet, warm Saturday morning, that I had this urge to bask under the sun. To me, it was a feeling of happiness, peace and nostalgia. Happiness, of being able to experience sun once again. It is most of us, people, yearned for so long having being in the indoors because of the pandemic. Peace because life was always busy days as long as I can remember. It is all about adulting in all forms, the way you should think, speak, decide and act. Lots of times to me it is tiring, a sort of infinite inner battle of what to do and what should not, a long list of dos and don’ts if I may say. However, this time, when I woke up in the morning, I heard the chirping of the birds, the blowing of breeze passing by the golden autumn-ish leaves, leaving the strong green ones behind, the green ones still clinging in the branches of their respective trees, and the sounds of waves against the shores. Indeed, very therapeutic for a mind, that describing it as occupied won’t satisfy. But yes indeed, I found tranquil and I am beyond thankful.
Nostalgia because the shady trees, seemed dark pathways, sunlight creeping in between gaps of greens, the windy and countryside atmosphere is home. The happiness and peace feel like my old true home, when my Tatay laughs with the children in our small community, when he opens the rice pot, when he stirs his coffee, when he caused the squeak sound of our little door, when he told me he wants a DVD and I will give it to him within the month or the most possible time that I can, when I told him I will be back in two weeks. It feels so nostalgic, and every time. And in that time, of that sunny day in particular, I felt the happiness, peace and pang of my greatest pain, after the nostalgia.
On Irene: red and white gingham dress. Similar here.