Going Home

Last night, while cooking dinner, hubby tightly hugged me and said “honey, I am so happy that we are going home”. I just looked at him strangely and he said “home to the Philippines!”. He immediately explained that he now considers the Philippines as his second home (what ever happened to London I asked?)…err…well..okay, his tropical home. Home, just the thought of it is so comforting. There is not a single day that I don’t think of the Philippines and the people I left behind, and a week will never pass without me calling home. Although I have relocated a number of times, in my mind, I have always thought that I will be back in Manila after a year or two. So whenever I leave the Philippines, my room stays the same--nothing changes until such time I head back home (again) and clear out stuff that I will no longer need. My room is my sanctuary and I have so many momentos of my growing up years. I have accumulated and kept a lot of stuff for the next generation to know the kind of life I led. For years, Mama never attempted to move or clear things out from my room, because I guess she knew I will be back until such time I have an opportunity to leave again.However, I noticed that things were different when I was home last December to prepare for my wedding. Most of my stuff were still there, except that all my clothes and shoes were neatly packed and folded in plastic coverings, as if ready to go. The wedding preps and entertaining our foreign guests took a lot of time, so I left my room in the same way I did the previous year. I guess the journey back home this year will be different as I am coming to terms that it will take some time for me to live at home again, perhaps even never. I will stay two weeks longer than hubby so I can have time to sort out my stuff in my room—throw traces of my past (read: exes), glance through letters and old kiddie diaries, sort out what I want to keep and perhaps give away some things that I know other people can benefit. I have so many personal items that I may want to pass on to people who are very special to me, so even if I won’t be around for some time, a “part” of me will be with them. I seriously considered not coming home this year to save up because we had a lot of expenses--our wedding last January, home improvement, and relocating to the Netherlands. However, it was hubby who even argued that I can't put a "price" for being with people I love. He once observed that I exuded an unexplainable joy whenever I am home. The last three months in the Netherlands has been quite a difficult adjustment phase for me, and such, going home to the Philippines will provide me a certain comfort and familiarity--if only to maintain my sanity, I guess I am willing to pay the "price"! It will be hubby’s fourth visit to the Philippines since we met two years ago, and one thing that I really love about him is his effort to know my country and be part of my family. Coming home every year is some sort of a process for me. I shop (and shop) for pasalubongs, get excited when the plane touches down, spend time with my family and friends, and when it’s time for me to leave, I cry. Whenever my family brings me back to the airport, I always feel like an OFW leaving for the first time, but what comforts me is that I know that there will be a next time around. Remember the commercial song for the Philippine Duty Free years ago “kay tagal mong nawala pero babalik ka rin…”, I never expected that I will relate to such song but...the Philippines will always be my home, no matter what…kaya babalik at babalik ako.