I wrote this essay way back 1997 and managed to unearth it today (while looking for another old document). I don't know why I wrote it but I was surprised that reading it after more than 20 years, it's still relevant.
There are some things that I would like to tweak, but overall, I'm glad how it turned out.
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One lazy Sunday afternoon, I was peacefully having lunch with my two young cousins when I asked them what they wanted for Christmas. It was a safe and innocent question, although I admit, I had a hidden agenda for asking such a very loaded query: I wanted to know up to what degree they were affected by the impending separation of their parents.
JT, 9 years old and the elder among the two said, "Sana, tumaas ang grades ko." I tried not to let my eyebrows show my surprise since from what I have heard, he was the most affected whenever their parents would get into their infamous discussions. He would cover his ears with his palms, run to the nearest corner and silently cry. I was expecting that he would say something like, "Sana, hindi na mag-away si Mommy at si Daddy."
I accepted his answer with a nod and continued eating our sparse meal of Chicken Afritada, flavoring it with more patis, doubting the slightly sour tomato flavor. When I was satisfied with the taste, I turned to JM who is two years younger than JT. I expected him to ask for a Christmas gift (he was unable to find his gift underneath our Christmas tree), bigger than his brother's present (isn't that what all kids ask for?). What he said made me wish I had not imbibed on too much patis since my tears would provide enough flavoring: "Sana tumino si Eman."
Eman happens to be their youngest brother, around 3 years old and turning into an exact version of Dennis the Menace. Ever since their parents started fighting, Eman grew more hard-headed and uncontrollable. He picked fights with his brothers and refused to listen to the adults' plea for him to behave. JM, the original title-holder, cannot even control him.
Covering my lapse, I ate a spoonful of the sauced rice and mumbled, "Eh, para sa'yo. Anong gusto mo?"
Again, he managed to reduce me to speechlessness. "Wala. Sana tumino lang si Eman." According to my gossipy sisters, this is the child who would give his caregivers a heart attack by climbing the water tank and the trees outside their house. Contrary to his elder brother, whenever they hear their parents fighting, JM would ignore the shouting and crying and instead, continue on imbibing himself with a good dosage of Cartoon Network. I do not know though if the kids know that there is physical violence involved in the fight. JT still thinks highly of their adopted father (JT and JM are sons of my aunt with different men. When she married her latest boyfriend, he adopted JT and JM and eventually, they had their own son, Eman). He even wants to be like him when grows up. My sisters and I just talk amongst ourselves, and sometimes, we cry for them too.
I don't need to have a degree in Psychology to know that my cousins are affected by their parents disagreements, and they are coping with the knowledge through their own defense mechanisms. Families are supposed to be the basic unit of society and they are assumed to be the building blocks of a child's life. I do not dare to ponder how my cousins will turn out when they reach adolescence.
I have friends who are like them, and fortunately, they turned out into very decent individuals and managed to hold up on their own. Of course, there is always a bad apple in the lot. I have seen how they waste their lives on trivial things and drink too much alcohol.
Based on those two outcomes, I am not sure how my cousins would fare (fast forward 21 years later, I have an update and will write about that later). I do not know if the love and the caring of their extended family will make a good substitute for the good, old parental love.
Of course, the story does not end there since I have to finish my plateful of the tomatoed chicken.
Getting back to our luncheon conversation, JM saved me from blubbering uncontrollable tears by asking me what I wanted. I remained quiet hoping they would forget the whole idea. It's not that I don't have any Christmas wishes, I do not know how to simplify into childrens' jargon what I wish for. How do you explain to kids your plan in life? Their level of priorities are different from ours and they wouldn't understand (or so I thought).
They kept on badgering me until I say something. Thinking of something safe and simple to say, I conceded, "Sana maka-graduate na ako this December." There. That wasn't so bad. Even a 9 and 7 year old can understand how graduation means so much to an ordinary student. Besides, it is partly true. I was denied my graduation last September due to unavoidable circumstances and I have no intent to spend another term in school.
Unfortunately, they refused to accept my retort and kept on pestering me for a more "acceptable" answer.
"Magkatrabaho," I mumbled, while drinking the saltiness of the patis and tears away.
Now uncomfortable that I introduced the topic in the first place, I tried ending the conversation by picking up my plate to bring to the kitchen, but JM's teasing remark almost made me drop my plate. "Gusto mong magka-boyfriend, ano?"
Kids have a way of hitting the spot.
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Update on JT, JM and Eman, 21 years after I wrote the above essay:
JT did not finish College but has found his calling as a Dive Instructor. He goes abroad from time to time to dive.
JM has been in and out of drug rehab. We haven't been in touch with him for a long time.
Eman lives with his eldest brother JT and also dives. I'm not sure if he even finished high school.
I love these boys and unfortunately, they are all estranged from their mom (as of now). I haven't heard from them for a couple of years (though we see each other in FB) and I miss spending time with time. Hopefully, I would get to see them this Christmas.
