OBSIDIAN ISSUE #2 : WOUNDED

FORTY THREE

"Kahit naman siguro ang Papa mo kapag nagpakita sa harapan ko ay mabibigla rin ako! Mahihimatay pa nga siguro. So I understand where you're coming from..."

My brows knitted as a wandering thought struck me. Sumibol ang kaba ko sa biglang napagtanto. Why in the world didn't I get to think about asking this before?

"Ma?" I hesitated for a moment. "At some point in your life, did you also get to hope terribly... for Papa's return? N-naniwala ka ba noong buhay siya?"

Nanlamig ako pagkatapos bitawan ang buong tanong. I thought this is broaching a subject she wanted to avoid so I expected to hear from her the sound of dreading the memory. But much to my awe, she seems so casual about it.

"Oh, yes. But the uninterrupted surge of mishaps way back then barely allowed me to grieve, most of all to hope and live. I've become more invested in my desire to retaliate and eventually, to retrieve you, Sam, away from that old trout! So yes, I have lamented, it just didn't last long. Inisip ko pa noon na masyado akong mahina para hindi magtagal ang paniniwala ko sa pagbabalik ng Papa mo. Although I have faith in your father's love for me, fate has always challenged faith, you see..."

My blank gaze was fixed on the off screen of my laptop as her words resonated to me, looking at my own reflection. Staring at the same eye. The same story. The same enemy. The same love... same pain, all alike but different experiences.

I still don't understand...

"Kaya kalaunan unti-unti ko nang tinanggap," dagdag niya sa matagal kong pananahimik. "Na siguro may rason ang lahat."

My lips numbed. "You're not weak, Ma..."

"It took me ages to realize that myself," a small sweet smile seem to accompany her words. "I may have my moments of weakness after your father's passing, but when I began to accept it, I knew that I made it through. I have realized that brand of strength not only by surviving the claws of grief or from the untold wars of the heart and family, but also in accepting the things we cannot control, Samara. As some of us only understands the truth, but often we find it hard to accept the realities of this world."

Like how I perpetually refuse to believe he' s dead amidst the wailing claims. Ako yata ang pinatatamaan niya rito.

"Anyways, going back to your misgivings, it is understandable. Siguro nga naninibago ka pa dahil ang tagal nga naman niyang nawala. But what you also have to consider, Sam, is the fact that a heart, no matter how many times it breaks, continues to beat in times of despair. Nagawa mo pa ngang bumangon ulit sa kabila ng makailan mong pagsuko. There are infinite possibilities in this life. Why not count coming back from the dead as one?"

I do. Or I did on one occassion when I persisted to hope against hope that he'll come back.

"And now that he did... come back, there is one thing I want you to remember," she cleared her throat.

I held the phone tight to my ear, desperate for guidance. Itinigil ko na rin ang paglikot ng aking binti habang nakadekuwatro para marinig siya nang mabuti. Mama sounded calm, not patronizing, but still serious that it commanded my full attention.

"The return of the love you're willing to die for is also to getting to know a brand new person. He went through arduous changes, so you won't be dealing with the same filth you used to weather before. You will deal with his new filth, Samara, and his novel imperfections."

I never thought I needed to hear this and I'm glad that I do. That just because a skin has been treated from its wounds doesn't mean it won't bleed again. That as long as we live and as long as we hope, we persist to take in more wounds all the while wearing the scars of the barely forgotten.