I have a tattoo on my chest. It’s the first tattoo I really liked though it turned out to be my 3rd tattoo and most probably the last as well. (Not everyone saw this before. Not even my dad, if he sees it, he might do another sermon time. I don’t mind. That’s his right anyway.) But anyway, let me share to you the story behind this tattoo.
Growing up, I always asked myself the meaning of home. Just like every family, ours is imperfect. My parents were always busy, we had conflicts, and etc. And I always ask if home is the same as house. I knew it’s not ’cause it’s better than this concrete building that we have. As I grew older, it is always my dream to find my home. Well, maybe I haven’t found it yet or maybe I found it already but haven’t recognized it. All I know is thatI put it on my chest because I know that home is something close to my heart. Something or someone who would take care of it no matter how lost I think I am. And despite all my struggles right now, I know I still want to meet whoever or whatever it is. I want to recognize home at least before I am gone.
Quarantine has not been friendly on my end. Anxiety attacks and depressing times are quite intense and I must admit, it was the reason why I have not been posting these days. But I promised my dad moving forward that I will seek more help this time and that I will keep on writing even if it’s just telling how my day went. He believed that it was my talent and that it’s therapeutic as well. (PS: His brother, my uncle Dan, also encouraged me on this)
My dad and my stepmom went to Manila from province just to pay me a visit. They both want to make sure that I am better now after what happened last week. Well, I still feel dizzy at times, and stomach pain is still reoccurring but surely, I am recovering. They also made a few calls check on the best help I can get. Plus, they corner me somehow and tell me stories about life. (Well, you know how a pastor trying not to preach but preaches anyway.)
I also got to see my favorites. They have been my family since I was a kid. We were teased together because of our curly hairs which were not easy to manage. I considered them siblings since then. Their mom also stood like my own mom too when mama passed away and their dad was my godfather/uncle at the same time.
It’s been years since I saw these babies. I am glad to have some time to talk and hug them. It’s a priceless quarantine bonding. Family is after all OUR HOME.
Thankful of course to my handsome uncle Nep too who has been very supportive to this meet up. He shared some good, humourous real life stories with learnings, of course. One thing that I got there is that he’s living all by God’s grace and cannot boast on his own efforts. Humbled by his stories though we are all guilty in the family that we look highly of him for being such a good family provider and being best at work.
Thank you Lord for the life of our baby brother. May you always be with him. Make him a courageous man. Make him love you even more. Make him see you in everything. Make him to be like you. May your love, joy and peace abound to this young man.
Jorel is my youngest brother. He turned 17 today. He also finished his junior high school with honors. We are so excited for him to see what God has in store for him.
He was so devastated. He locked himself to the room. He kept on wiping the waters falling from his eyes. He was deeply hurt. But a knock on the door disturbed his privacy. A little voice said, “Papa?” As he heard it, he wiped the tears in his eyes, and straightened his shirt.
I need to be strong. My two little girls need me. Oh, God help me.
Then he opened the door and smiled, “Hello Angels, how are you?” “We’re now fine.” The eldest answered. “Teacher said mama is now happy in heaven. We are happy too.” The two girls smiled innocently as they hug their father.