ANOTHER BIRTHDAY AND SOME THOUGHTS
I wonder what my brothers were thinking. You see, my eldest brother has four daughters, named, from eldest to youngest, Karen Joyce, Karen Nina, Karen Kay and Karen Tatiana, and only the eldest answers to the name Karen. My second brother has three boys, named, from eldest to youngest, Von Ryann, Kris Ryann and Kevin Ryann, and only the eldest carries the nickname Ryann. I don't think they talked about it... I mean, they don't carry on that way. Oh well...
That giggling kid pictured above is my second brother's youngest, Kevin. That picture is simply and purely him... a bag of funny, chuckling bones... heh. He's in Grade 4 and he turned 10 years old yesterday.
I remember when Kevin was much younger, he wanted to be a garbage collector and ride the big dump trucks. Yesterday I spoke to him and well, he's having second thoughts about his career choice.
Boy, am I glad for those second thoughts.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEVIN!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is what I think. I think when you're far from your family, it becomes a natural tendency for you to remember only the good things about them... their thoughtfulness, their generosity, their sweetness, everything that makes you love them so much, and you tend to forget, overlook, develop more tolerance for all the little flaws that make them... well, human. When you talk to them once or twice a week, it's a far cry from your daily chats when you were still back home and so you talk about happy things like what new things the kids have learned to do, what you did over the weekend, food, the neighbors (?)... heh. You don't talk about problems unless they really have to be discussed or topics that would end up disturbing at best and sad at worst.
You know, I don't exactly know where this is going. I wanted to blog about something without getting too much into details. The thing is, I know that spats between siblings and even between one's siblings and one's parents are so mundane cause it happens all the time and it happens to the best. Just that here I am, thinking and missing and aching to be with them everyday and then I hear them having spats and getting on each other's nerves and getting cross with each other and it makes me think, how come?
Couldn't they be happy enough just having each other around? Does it really take getting disentangled from them to realize how much you want to be embraced by your family? Apart from my brothers, I was the first one out of the house. Since graduating from nursing school, I haven't lived in my parents' house on a regular basis. First, I stayed with an aunt, then a cousin, then my brother, all the time going home only on weekends. When I got married, Papa and I stayed with my in-laws, so definitely and permanently out of the house. We still lived in the same city though, and visiting was easy enough, but we never got to live with them. And then we moved to Antipolo, farther away, and then Singapore.
Through all these stages of my exodus from my parents' house, I had this ever-growing need to be closer to them. Not wanting to be so estranged from their daily lives, I tried to bond more. In the process, I grew more tolerant of our faults. A thoughtless remark didn't sting me as much... although it hasn't happened yet, I know that if one of them forgets me on occasions like birthdays and such it wouldn't really matter. If they can't spare some time to meet me when I come, it's perfectly okay. I just need to know that they're alright, that they're healthy and happy and safe, that they're coping fine with life. Bottomline is, nothing really matters as long as we're all fine and still kicking, as long as we know what's going on in each others' lives. Everything else is just part of the package and not something we ought to be sore about.
Just last week I was talking about Darlene and how good it is to have siblings... and then I hear something from home that unsettles me somehow.
Maybe when push comes shove, maybe they'll see each other for what we all are... brothers and sisters...
Maybe if they get to know what I know... the distance that makes the ties that bind even tighter...
Or maybe it's the way I see things that's unnatural and what's happening is the way things really are...
Maybe I'm wishing too much.
I wonder what my brothers were thinking. You see, my eldest brother has four daughters, named, from eldest to youngest, Karen Joyce, Karen Nina, Karen Kay and Karen Tatiana, and only the eldest answers to the name Karen. My second brother has three boys, named, from eldest to youngest, Von Ryann, Kris Ryann and Kevin Ryann, and only the eldest carries the nickname Ryann. I don't think they talked about it... I mean, they don't carry on that way. Oh well...
That giggling kid pictured above is my second brother's youngest, Kevin. That picture is simply and purely him... a bag of funny, chuckling bones... heh. He's in Grade 4 and he turned 10 years old yesterday.
I remember when Kevin was much younger, he wanted to be a garbage collector and ride the big dump trucks. Yesterday I spoke to him and well, he's having second thoughts about his career choice.
Boy, am I glad for those second thoughts.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEVIN!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is what I think. I think when you're far from your family, it becomes a natural tendency for you to remember only the good things about them... their thoughtfulness, their generosity, their sweetness, everything that makes you love them so much, and you tend to forget, overlook, develop more tolerance for all the little flaws that make them... well, human. When you talk to them once or twice a week, it's a far cry from your daily chats when you were still back home and so you talk about happy things like what new things the kids have learned to do, what you did over the weekend, food, the neighbors (?)... heh. You don't talk about problems unless they really have to be discussed or topics that would end up disturbing at best and sad at worst.
You know, I don't exactly know where this is going. I wanted to blog about something without getting too much into details. The thing is, I know that spats between siblings and even between one's siblings and one's parents are so mundane cause it happens all the time and it happens to the best. Just that here I am, thinking and missing and aching to be with them everyday and then I hear them having spats and getting on each other's nerves and getting cross with each other and it makes me think, how come?
Couldn't they be happy enough just having each other around? Does it really take getting disentangled from them to realize how much you want to be embraced by your family? Apart from my brothers, I was the first one out of the house. Since graduating from nursing school, I haven't lived in my parents' house on a regular basis. First, I stayed with an aunt, then a cousin, then my brother, all the time going home only on weekends. When I got married, Papa and I stayed with my in-laws, so definitely and permanently out of the house. We still lived in the same city though, and visiting was easy enough, but we never got to live with them. And then we moved to Antipolo, farther away, and then Singapore.
Through all these stages of my exodus from my parents' house, I had this ever-growing need to be closer to them. Not wanting to be so estranged from their daily lives, I tried to bond more. In the process, I grew more tolerant of our faults. A thoughtless remark didn't sting me as much... although it hasn't happened yet, I know that if one of them forgets me on occasions like birthdays and such it wouldn't really matter. If they can't spare some time to meet me when I come, it's perfectly okay. I just need to know that they're alright, that they're healthy and happy and safe, that they're coping fine with life. Bottomline is, nothing really matters as long as we're all fine and still kicking, as long as we know what's going on in each others' lives. Everything else is just part of the package and not something we ought to be sore about.
Just last week I was talking about Darlene and how good it is to have siblings... and then I hear something from home that unsettles me somehow.
Maybe when push comes shove, maybe they'll see each other for what we all are... brothers and sisters...
Maybe if they get to know what I know... the distance that makes the ties that bind even tighter...
Or maybe it's the way I see things that's unnatural and what's happening is the way things really are...
Maybe I'm wishing too much.
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