Them.
Mom, Kuya Nate, Kuya Niks, and Lola
..and Kuya Nate’s pretty wifey Ate Imy :)
(Oh wow I finally have an older sister!)
I guess stuff like this happens when you’re an XX-chromosomed 25 year old (yes, just females), and you come home to a messy apartment, plates and pans from the past two nights’ dinner piled up on the sink waiting to be washed, and a hamper filled to the brim with dirty laundry waiting by your bathroom door. Sounds stressful, I know right. But hey, at this age, I still have the right to blame this on the hormones, right?
I have a bunch of chores to do, not to mention reports to finish, and all I can think of right now is how much I miss going home to a place where there are actual human beings to talk to or to have dinner with. I miss bossing my brothers around (no, wait, I think it’s the other way), my Mum’s lutong-bahay, Lola’s stories which I’ve heard about a hundred times already, and maybe some bonding time with my new (ehem) sister-in-law.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving this so-called independence, although not easy. In fact, I think letting me move out of the house three years ago is one of the best decisions my parents made to help me stand on my own feet. I’ve grown a lot since. I can cook my own dinner now (usually from a canned good or an instant pack, but still!), wash my own dishes (albeit every other night), clean after my own mess (once in a while), and pay my own bills (even though normally with delayed charges). I fail most times, I admit to that, but I wouldn’t learn even half of these things if I was still back home in Caloocan, spoiled brat that I was am.
I think missing my family is one of the things I *learned* from this quasi-independence, too. Growing up and having bigger responsibilities does make you value your family more, and appreciate what they’ve sacrificed to help you on your way.
Gone are the days when spending time with them is obligatory. These days, I’d grab whatever chance I get.
*The photos were from my brother’s wedding. Obviously. :)