Day 32 out of hospital

Yesterday was a busy day. We're done with the lawn decoration, with Shane climbing the roof to set up the cardboard witch and broom which I spent an entire day making. We have a witch flying on the roof theme going on. We got a thumbs down from Mom for our initial plan of bloodbath, said it's too messy.

We also have those pumpkin lights thing in the garden which Iñigo helped to set, and some random bones hanging and sticking out of Mamala's bushes. All in all, it looks like a proper Halloween decorated lawn. But you should have seen Shane's house. It became a literal haunted house, complete with tiny moving makeshift train, made out of carts for children. Shane's dad's workers set it up. The congressman has like a dozen people working for him.

Because of the activities, I woke up tired this morning. My joints swells and there's a persistent ache on my back and had a hard time getting out of bed. I was used to the pain, or the lack of rest my body feels. It's like no matter how much rest I get, it isn't always enough. I often wake up and sit at the foot of the bed to stare in space like that meme of a fox sitting in bed.

I also surveyed my skin for new bruises. It's like a habit, scanning my skin for unknown bruises from the simple contacts of the day before. Sometimes I don't mind their appearance because they're always there, popping out of nowhere and leaving after a few days. Sometimes they appear on places I couldn't hide like my hands, knuckles, or the inside of my palms or on my foot or arms. That's when it gets annoying because I always see them, and they have the ability to remind me of what I've got.

But today, I don't have to mind them because I'm gonna be busy again. I'd be searching for a vintage dress from Mamala's things because Shane and I finally agreed to a costume. Well, not completely agreed, more on he was forced to choose between being an alien or being a vampire, and he thinks if he choose the alien one he might be risking for a skin tight outfit and that terrorized him. I couldn't blame him. That's exactly my plan.

So we agreed on the vampire theme. Me, an ethereal vampire mistress living in my abandoned castle on top of the hill surrounded by vineyards. That's the look I would aim for. For Shane, who believes vampire costumes only consist of fake fangs and pale skin, I need to educate him about classy, tuxedo-wearing, blood-sucking gentlemen so I made him watch a classic vampire movie for the first time. Yes, the first time! The audacity of him. We watched it together last night through video call.

So yeah, that's the peg. Ah, classic. And that's why, I, Gabriel, have to wake up early today to check on the basement for some vintage finds. Let's say we're going thrift shopping with no budget. I should make a vlog, right? I have so many ideas.

I was humming my way in the living room, going to the kitchen to ask Mamala where she had put the good stuff she mentioned yesterday when I passed by my Mom at the front door on her way to work. She's checking her hair on the foyer mirror while holding her phone against her ear with one hand.

"Fourteen business days?" she exclaimed, clearly exasperated so early in the morning. It's not even eight. "I know it's a protocol. But can you rush the send off of the blood test? Kung hindi, ako nalang ang pupunta sa Makati."

She finally noticed that I was watching her. She took a deep breath because I motioned for her to do so, and proceed to talk calmer on the phone. "Okay, thanks. Please do update me."

Humarap siya sa'kin at bumuntong hininga. "About my test?" tanong ko, referring to the several tests I had taken when we visited the hospital for my last cycle.

"Gabriela."

Lumapit siya sa'kin and her, using my whole name, makes me a little uneasy.

"I'm okay," I said, to cut her off. "I don't feel anything strange. Just a few usual aches. I feel okay."

She watches me, like the way a mother watches her daughter. Which was the unusual side for me, because most of the time she's a doctor watching a patient.

"Don't tire yourself," was all she said. "I... I will make sure things are okay."

I kissed her on the cheeks and waved goodbye while standing at the balcony, watching her gray car pull out of the driveway. She always makes promises. My Mom, always making sure about things, always trying for ends to meet, always trying to be the superhuman she isn't. Sometimes, I wish I could give her the chance to be a simple mom, promising good home cook meals, not things such as the life of her sick daughter on her hands.

At the basement, I rummaged through things. Old clothes inside dusty boxes, worn-out shoes of years ago, old school uniforms, textbooks, random things such as faded board games, broken sports equipment like tennis rocket, small trinkets and memorabilia, and a huge amount of photo albums.

And me, being the sentimental girl, instead of searching for what I initially been there for, I sat on the dusted off surface of the basement's wooden floor and just dive inside those huge boxes of raw memories.

There's the t-shirt from our first trip in Hong Kong Disneyland when I was little and Iñigo was still a thumb sucking baby. There's also the night stand with carved I LOVE Cebu on the wooden frame. Then there's this huge framed picture of us on a view deck in Tagaytay. My mom, Iñigo who was five years old in the picture, and me, a preteen, wearing those bright orange and purple layered clothes which were so fashionable during the early 2000s. God forbid.

I lift the frame to see closer. These were the last photographs before my Dad and Mom filed for the legal separation. Something I don't really remember much of, but I could feel it here, in my chest. It was a confusing time. Dad's like a cool guy, adventurous, chill. So unlike my Mom. So when he told me he's going away that day, I thought he's just going mountaineering or something, or just another one of his long trips. He's an environmentalist and researchers. They say his head has always been in the clouds and my Mom made the mistake of marrying a dreamer. But it wasn't a mistake. Sometimes a dream is so powerful it takes a life. And my Dad's dream requires his whole life for it.

When he left, he never came back. And I slowly learned what legal separation means. Maybe, there's more to the situation than what I wanted to believe, but for me, he's still the cool guy I remembered who lets me on piggy back rides and tell stories about the moon and the changing weather and the skies. He's more like a person I look up to, impersonal as those well-known personalities I admire. I still read about my Dad's articles and researches every now and then, and I still search for his works, specially the photographs. But my Mom and us, we're okay without him.

I continue the thrift search after lunch, because I was so engulfed by every small possessions I encountered this morning. There's the boxes of the remaining old toys of Iñigo which he refused to give away. Then there's my old things in a box, mostly of grade school and early high school clobber. Old notebooks and diaries, exam results of almost a decade ago, old wallet with faded pictures and random cards. I laughed when I saw my picture with Shane on the insides of my old wallet. He's basically just a tall, wimpish kid with non-manageable hair years ago. And now, he has model-like face, lean body, and soft hair, I mean, how?

Then there's also Mamala's things, which she brought in with her when she moved in our house. I love ransacking her things the most. Mamala's a classy lady who has a collection of broaches sealed on a wooden box; there's the emerald broach, the bronze rose broach, the gold plated ruby one. There's also her several long necklaces with heart-lock pendants, and pins; heart shape, flower, with carved details. It's like visiting a vintage store, along with the classic long dresses, floral shawls and delicate scarfs. No wonder Pops fell in love with this stylish lady.

"May nakita kang magugustuhan mo?"

Sinamahan ako ni Mamala sa basement dahil alam niyang kung walang pipigil sa'kin, maghapon akong mangangalkal para lang tignan isa-isa ang bawat makita ko.

"Gandang babae ka talaga Mamala," sabi ko habang hawak ang isang trophy na may pangalan niya from a university pageant several decades ago.

Tumawa siya ng mahina. "Ikaw talaga."

"Sabi mo nagkakilala kayo ni Pops sa Ilocos?" tukoy ko kay Lolo.

"It was college. Nag-aaral palang ako ng teacher and he's training in PMA in Baguio. Bakasyon noon and we met at the old church there."

There's a soft smile on Mamala's face.

Kinuha ko ang isang album na kasama ng mga gamit ni Mamala. Most of the pictures were from her university days. She's a tall lady with a mestiza face. I always love seeing old pictures and the fashion crazes back then. Just look at these bright pastel dresses, pleated skirts, and bob-cut big hairs.

"I've never been in Ilocos," I said. "I mean, as far as I could remember."

"Mahigit siyam na oras ang byahe kaya hindi natin madalas puntahan."

I crashed my body against the sheets of Mamala's heap of old clothes on the floor. Pinagmasdan ko ang picture na hawak ko sa nakataas kong kamay habang nakahiga.

"You look so happy in here," I said.

It's a grainy picture of Mamala and Pops on a beach, laughing with the wind in their hair and with gigantic windmills on their background.

I turned myself sideways on the floor to grab another album lying next to the boxes. My mom's album. There were several pictures of her and my dad with their nineties fashion. Oversize everything, and huge teased hairs. They met after college at an internship. My Dad has a carefree smile on the picture, with his arms around my Mom's shoulders, also smiling.

In the picture they look so youthful, with no worries of the future, with an infinite opportunities before them. Their smiles... would they know that years from the picture was taken, things would change? Would they still risk their love even if they know what the future has in store for them? Do they have any regrets? I think people are happier then than they are now.

"Not everyone have their happy endings," I said.

But they got a happy start and maybe a happy middle. It's just that we look for happy endings so much that what we have now is happier than what's in the end of the road for us and we fail to realize it. Maybe happiness isn't at the ending after all.

"But I'm happy now," I turned to Mamala with a huge grin. "This isn't the ending yet, but I'm happy now with you, with Iñigo, with Mom, and with Shane." I lay my hands on the floor and close my eyes. "I don't think I need a happy ending after all."

***