It was good to be back at my sort of hometown. I have not visited Quezon for more than a decade. Supposedly, we would go there last Saturday but then again we thought that it would be so tiring traveling and commuting at that during night time. Besides, we were not sure if we would have a place to sleep. We were sure that there would be many people at our ancestral house. So, we decided to leave Sunday morning.
It was my son who was very excited. It would be his first time to go to the province, the place where I grew up. All my values came from there. The usual provinciana lass. I am still thankful and feel blessed being molded there. It is a long story…I grew up with my Aunts and cousins, away from my real parents and siblings.
Anyways, we woke up at 3AM so that we could arrive on time. The purpose of course why we went to the province was to pay our last respect to my Aunt who passed away last Tuesday. It was a four hour journey. As we alighted from the van and made our first step to my homeland, it felt good. The cold our touched our skin, very welcoming. We walked a few blocks and I noticed that there were many changes. The green fields where I used to run with my playmates during summer days is now full of houses. Indeed, our town is now progressive. It was raining. We did not bring umbrella so we let the sky blessed us.
At long last, we reached our destination. There were many welcoming faces. I was happy to see the biggest number of relatives than from any other occasion. Oh, some people were calling my name. I saw familiar faces. My childhood friends were there also.
The moment I saw the coffin, I went to my Aunt and asked for forgiveness, not being able to see her when she was sick. The consolation was I what memory I have of her is the better days. She was 74 years old and lived a good life, I guess. She did not marry and had no kids but she was lucky not being able to live alone.
At around 4PM, it was time to go. I do not know when I will be back again.
