Returning to my Childhood Home

San Roque, Northern Samar, Philippines. It's New Year's Eve. I am getting ready for the midnight Mass. My husband and my two-year old daughter will join me. Tatay is now too weak to go to church. A few years back it was always he who urged everyone to attend the midnight Mass. Now he can barely walk due to a stroke just very recently.

I am walking to and fro in the sala as I wait for my husband to join me downstairs. The mass is about to start and he is still having his shower upstairs.

This is the house where I grew up. This is the same house where as a teenager I crawled close to the ground whenever the New People's Army (NPAs) would attack the military who at the time held camp just 50 meters away from the house.

The foxhole is no longer here - it was where we always hid whenever we heard gun shots. Instead, there's a living room filled with things we did not have before. This brown wooden sala set looks expensive with its smooth shiny surface. The 7-feet tall Christmas tree occupies the spot where the foxhole used to be located. Ahh, what a big difference it brings to a family's income when there's a family member working abroad. In our case, we have two: my brother who is a seafarer and my younger sister who works with the U.S. Navy.

I am particularly interested with this Christmas tree because we never had one as beautiful as this when we were growing up. Our Christmas tree before was only made of twigs and branches which we gathered from a nearby tree. This one, right in front of me, is filled with orange and white balls. It has about one hundred angels and Santa Clauses hanging on the branches.

On the wall to my left, about 25 feet away from the Christmas tree is a large mirror which measures about 6ft. x 4ft. The intricate circular carvings on its wooden frame remind me of the spiders my siblings and I used to collect from a neighbor's backyard. At the time, I still did not have this habit of examining myself closely in front of a mirror. In fact, the only mirror we had around the house was about the size of a typical wall clock.

The doors to the bathroom and the toilet frame the mirror; hence, they look like security guards standing stiffly ready to defend the mirror should somebody get it. This arrangement - the framing and the guarding of the mirror - reminds me of an incident that involved a “taking away” something very dear to us. Our parents got us a new karaoke when I was in high school. We loved it not only because it was the most popular appliance at the time but most importantly because we enjoyed singing together as a family. After three months, the agents got it back because my parents couldn't pay the monthly mortgage.

Those doors likewise remind me of the times when I had to awaken my father in the middle of the night because I had to use the toilet. I was too afraid to go to the toilet because it was always dark outside. This must be the reason why they decided to put a toilet everywhere: one upstairs, another in the sala, and another outside which is located opposite the pig pens.

On the ceiling, the petromax is nowhere to be found. Instead, a chandelier hangs directly above the sala set. I am not a connoisseur on chandeliers but this one looks charming. It has eight white bulbs surrounding the big white bulb in the middle. Each bulb is framed by a glass material that looks like a flower. From where I am standing, it's as though I am looking at a huge white flower. The small white and silver ornaments around it make it even brighter and shinier.

The white tiled floor has replaced the old red cement. How I want to lazily lie here just like the old times when my siblings and I were young and single. No, I can't do it now because they are not here. But yes I still can enjoy this floor with my daughter and my husband. We can play hide and seek; we can chase each other right here. We will do it later after the Media Noche.