Love. What is love? I’m sure all of us have our own differing thoughts on this four letter word. No, this isn’t a love story… But I assure, after you read this, you will think about love…
As a child, I was painfully shy. Strangers would trigger me to hide behind my moms skirt and answers to their queries were limited to whispers so soft even my own mother had to bring her ear to my lips as we conversed. Pictures of my first program at pre-school were all shots a girl with her mouth clammed shut and hands twisted in embarrasemnet. But I grew out of the stage… Because despite my shyness, my mother never forced me to come out of my shell. She waited until I was ready. Her enduring patience and encouragements were a good balance to my father’s discipline. I thought at that time that Maternal love was great. No conditions. It felt like a candy flavored cloud I could fall on whenever needed comfort.
But wouldn’t a candy flavored cloud be better with rainbow? Rainbows delight me. As a child I was always looking for that end of the rainbow imagining the pot of gold lat the foot. Up to this day, rainbows hold a special meaning for me as it represents me and my siblings. We’re 7 kids altogether. Our personalities as varied as the colors of the rainbow… even our looks remind me of the United Nations.
I remember my spending my growing years playing nanay to the little ones who came after me. I guess that’s why I love kids. I relished the thought of being voted Favorite Sister one Christmas when all my younger siblings and cousins decided to hold an election. See, my mothers example of love was well passed on to me and my siblings felt every bit of it. . I vividly recall one of my sisters and my only brother convincing me to give up my Ateneo education just so I could hug them and kiss them everyday. And seriously, I had to think this over a whole weekend with matching script
pa as to what I was gonna tell my mom. Funny when I think about it today. But you know what the enduring memory of those days are? One of love’s greatest lessons, my sister put into a few words,
“We’re sisters by blood, friends by choice.”
Love. I thought I knew everything about it by the time I’d completed my 15 units of philosophy and 12 of theology… of course, with matching beer & yosi, break ups and make-ups on the side, friendships forged, relationships made, strengthened & some lost. I’ve fallen in-love with Paris and liver pate, Spain and calimocho but nothing compares to the love I’m about to tell you of.
I’ve tried many times to put this kind of love into words. I write now thinking it would be the easiest to pull-off.. But here I am, about to finish my ranting… yet words still elude me… For those of you who are mothers and fathers, speak for me. Yes, that is the kind of love I speak of.
I have been a daughter, a sister, a friend and a lover… But this love, the love I speak of, the love that started as tiny drops of rain when I first saw my angel screaming for air, well, is love in its physical form. Love can never be defined but if you want to know love, look around you. That person beside you. Look at him. He came into this world because of love. He lives today for love. No, I don’t think he will die for love but when hjis physical body leaves this world, he will live on for ages, because of love.
Love… I can’t put it into words. It just is.
random thoughts on love...
thank you 
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