There's been two types of adjectives that have been predominantly applied to me when I was growing up: one being aloof; the other being nice. Many people who meet me at first confide to me later on that they thought I was snobbish and reserved. I can honestly say that when I don't smile, I don't look very friendly; but really who does? When they get to know me better, that is when people start applying the term nice. They figure out that I don't actually bite people nor do I bide my time thinking ill of them.
Honestly, they're not too far when they call me both aloof and nice. I know for a fact that I can be not nice, that I can be this person who does not care. I have seen myself stare blankly as someone cried in front of me. I have rolled my eyes and mocked someone's sob story. I should empathize but no, I just don't care sometimes. But then again, a lot of people tell me their problems and I listen, and I comfort, and I help. I have hugged someone as they cried their eyes out, tucked someone in bed as they felt utter misery, and helped someone to their feet as they wished to try again. I have cried with people and cried for people with the same eyes that mocked and stared.
Anyone has a propensity to choose apathy over niceness any day of the week, and vice versa. Lately though, I've been more apt to care. I've cringed over hateful words, my heart clenches as I hear contempt in people's voices, and I have stilled in horror as people choose to stop caring. I find myself horrified at the thought of becoming this crybaby who is affected by every little sign of discord. Apathy is so much more easier a mask. No tears, no cooing or false sympathies. No drama. Such is a life I want. No complications. But caring has this way of insinuating itself between the cracks and insisting that it matters.
And it does, I suppose. It does when it's about my family, and the people I love, and then it starts extending to the people I just met, and to the people I have yet to learn about. And I get lost. My world that consists of me and a handful of people are expanding to let more in. And it terrifies me to care about all these other people when I hardly know how to care for all of me. I know that no matter how much I care for people, it cannot change the world. Caring cannot change someone's opinion, or create more food, or reduce global warming, or grow back someone's hair.
But one of the most annoying things that happens when a person cares is the persistent desire to hope. That tomorrow everything will be better, that life will be easier, that there's more to come. I care because I want to love with something bigger than my body, more than my cells can hold, greater than my mind can dream of. There's only one of me but I can have a love that renews more than what is possible, more than what is expected of me, and more than what I expect of myself.
To Darla, I love you. A lot. I first loved you with a selfish reason of not wanting to let you go. But I know that I never will; that some special guy can sweep you off your feet and take you away with him, but I'll hold you forever in my heart. I love you not because you are my sister. I love you because of your own person. You're not all perfect, and neither am I. You're not all squishy and huggable, but the parts of you that are, are more than enough to love everyone else that you wish to.
To Kuya, I love you. I've admired you before I loved you. And I hated you before I learned how to love you. But in the end, I love you, and that's mostly what matters. The rest of the thing that matters is the fact that you will always be the person who riles me up, makes me mad as spit, and then pets me to calm me down. We're complicated. You're the older brother who never got a manual on how to figure out a younger sibling. And I'm the younger sibling who never got the memo on playing nice. All in all, we're a pair. But seeing you grow up, I know that you'll even make a greater pair that special girl who'll keep you on your toes and make you laugh the loudest and the longest. Don't ever change.
To Sister. You're my greatest friend. And I don't ever need to tell you what's what for you to figure out how I feel. There's many reasons why I looked up to you when I was growing up. And there were many reasons why I desperately wanted to hold on to us. But I've learned that it's not about letting go, because neither you nor I have. It's about extending the reigns to someone else until we come full circle and our world becomes smaller. You are grace and strength and air. And you have all of yourself to offer. I thank you for that.
To Momi. Thank you. Without you, I wouldn't be. I want you to know that I haven't always understood you and I haven't always wanted to understand you. But now I do. You're so much more than what other people see in you. You're so much more than what other people will think of you. Your family, they are only one part of you. They are not you. I hope you understand that your strength is one thing that makes you stand apart from others, but one thing else is your freedom. You know where your freedom lies, and I hope that later you'll find comfort in knowing that your love hasn't been in vain. And it hasn't. Those seeds you've sown that didn't seem to grow, they're still budding. And so are you.
To Papa. Papa, I love you. For every hug that you've given me, I repay you three-fold. For every prayer that you've said for me, I offer God five more. For every laughter and tears of joy, I ask Him for a thousand more. And for every lesson you've taught me, I will honor them all. For every fear and anger that you've felt for me, I say an assurance. And for every word of discipline and pat of my hair as I cried, I bow my head in humility. And for that day when you put my hands together as I accepted God, I put my hands together as I thank the one who did the same for you. Thank you, Papa.
To Kuya Ancho, I bless you as your sister and as my brother. There's many things that could have gone wrong between your meeting my sister and your permanence with us. But the years have passed by more than a decade now and still your roots have dug in and stayed entwined with ours. You're a tree of such patience and of such passion, and you've spent and shared so much of both not only with Manang but with us. Thank you for showing us the dazzle of vibrant colors. You've brought so much to us and we haven't caught up to yet.
To Baba. Babalove. You're still my sweet. You've grown like a rose, like a mountain. You're both spring and lightning. I missed so much of your growing up but I don't regret that much. Because you have such great parents and people who love around you. And they all love you. I miss hugging you and making you laugh with silly jokes and fixing your hair because it always needs fixing. I miss how your eyes twinkle and how your lips quirk in a reluctant smile, then a full fledged laugh, even as you try to knit your eyebrows together and look stern. I miss your curiosity and your ability to go on for days and days, and days like a whirlwind that plays with the leaves and then I miss how you simply know confidently how to be. I miss many things. But I miss the fun that we create together. Always have fun, Ba. All the time. Remember that having fun is a choice too.
I can make more lists of these. I can write down more love for all the world to see. I can do all these and still have love to spare. But right now, this is enough. Because these are the words that I've held closed in my heart for so long and today, I set them free. If you read this then you know that I love you, always will, even when I'm no longer here to agree. Even when it's not from my lips that you hear it. Even when it hurts more said out loud than whispered quietly in the back of your mind. Even then. Because love like this isn't the kind that goes away. This stains and holds deeper when you rub at it. It holds your hand tightly in the crowds, and pokes you on the sides 'til you frown, and it keeps at you until you bat it with your hands. My love is annoying, let's just say that. But that's because it's the kind that is persistently hopeful that when you wake up tomorrow, it's to a lighter and better day.
