Stranger in my own home

I am blogging right now in my old room, my very first own room when I was still single. In my childhood years, I always shared a room with my siblings. So when I heard that our family was moving into our own house with my own room, I decorated this room, my theme was baby blue, silver and nature. Yup, nature but not in green colors, but blue and silver. So I bought any item that fits the description. I put a wall clock, shaped like a sun but colored silver and baby blue, above my painted glass window. Below the window, I placed mini candles, shaped like seashells, in hues of blue and white. I also bought a standing silver candle holder, with the face of the sun on it. I also put a beaded curtain in my window and door, again in baby blue. Not to mention that I was strict with my linens, if I had to change the bedsheet with the skies design, the color of the bedsheet and pillow cases have to be baby blue. So I felt I fused skies and oceans in my room. It was my little haven.

But now, seeing this room, I feel like a stranger in my own room, in our family’s home. The sun wall clock is still there, where I left it. But everything changed already. Gone are the beaded curtains, gone are the candle seashells. Since this is the only room at the living room, it has been the favorite room of everybody who’s too tired to go to the second floor. Now, there are green curtains, hangers with different clothes at the back of the door, colorful linens, and lots of bags, from paper bags to handbags to luggage, everywhere.

Apart from the obvious change I see in my room, I feel like a stranger in my own home. Right now, I couldn’t tell exactly why. They always welcome my presence here, especially when I’m with hubby. But maybe, the warm welcome is exactly what makes me feel alienated. Ironic, but it’s just the way it is, it makes me feel I no longer live here because I have to be welcomed. Or maybe it’s the fact that I really feel I no longer live here. My home now is the place which my husband and I chose to live. It’s not big like this house, it’s not even our own house because we are just renting it. But it’s our place which we decorated, put love on it, made love within it, hehe. That now, even though I am in my family’s house, even though it’s comfortable here since I don’t have to do any household work and just leave everything to the maids, I am dying to go back to me and my husband’s place. This isn’t my home now. My home is where my new family is. Though we don’t have kids yet, my new family is my husband. I wonder, do other married women feel the same? Or is it just me?

Anyway, there’s a consolation. I realized that though I feel like a stranger in my own home, I will always choose to stay here, in my old room, whenever I am here. Though there are two more vacant rooms upstairs, I always choose to stay in my very first own room. I remember that it was a bit weird when I first slept here as a married woman. My mom, forgetting that I was married already, instructed my husband to sleep in the other room. I forgot how I reminded her that we’re already married and it’s okay to sleep with him now. But then, it sank to her that yeah, I got married already, and I just got back for a visit. It was the first time of my husband to sleep in my own room, and I know, we both felt awkward, hehe. But after awhile, after feeling the soft but sturdy mattress against a heavy-duty narra bed frame, which we compared with our own bed, we both relaxed… And then, at that moment, I felt, I’m home again, but this time, with my new family.

Why I want Cory Aquino to live a bit longer

The Philippines is praying for her. To most, Cory Aquino symbolizes democracy, patriotism, woman’s power. Amen to these. But though I may be a bit patriotic, I didn’t find my own personal reason to pray for her.

Until I heard my grandma’s voice on the phone. Like her, she was diagnosed with colon cancer, perhaps, a few months earlier than Cory. She was asking me to reconcile with a person I thought I have forgiven. With everything that she said, the thing that struck me most was, “malapit na ako…nararamdaman ko.”

I believe only the cancer-stricken patient himself or herself knows what truly goes on with his or her body. That even though I wanted to comfort my lola that time, I cannot. I feel ounces of truth in that statement. And yet… I think Cory’s health has something to do with this. The news that Cory isn’t getting better, but just comfortable in the hospital, can make grandma lose hope. Here, a powerful lady like Cory gets all financial and moral help and millions of prayers. And yet, she isn’t getting any better?

I want Cory Aquino to have hope and strength so lola will also have the same hope and strength. I want Cory to still live because I want my lola to live a bit longer. Not live too long that she suffers in so much pain. But not live too short that she won’t be able to see and carry her first grandchild. Not too short that she won’t be able to witness reconciliation and forgiveness in our family.

Cory Aquino, you cannot die yet. Not now. More than everything, you symbolize faith. Not just with my grandma. But in each person praying sincerely for you, crying out loud to heaven for a miracle. Cory, you can teach people to surrender to God’s will – not yet. Now is not the time. Show this nation first that God answers prayers.