MY PERSONAL EASTER

MY PERSONAL EASTER

Holy Week is supposed to be a time for silent meditation, for introspection and self-reflection but the recent Holy Week didn’t turn out to be that way. My eldest and youngest sons together with my eldest grandson came all the way from Australia to commemorate Holy Week with other members of the family who are comfortably based here in the Philippines.

This year was our turn to sponsor the “Pabasa” for the clan’s antique image of San Pedro Apostol. There was a mixture of solemnity and excitement as we happily recalled by-gone days; as we review nostalgic experiences; as we divulged secret maneuvers to outdo one another.

My eldest grandson was a riot. He won’t stop in one place or even in one simple position. He is that active that back in Australia he had to wear helmet to protect his head from injury.

Holy Thursday was my youngest daughter’s birthday and her husband insisted that we all have lunch at Chateu Hestia, a sophisticated garden eating venue. Everyone enjoyed not only the meal but the healthy atmosphere with beautiful shrubs and vines and colorful ornamentals.

The following day, Good Friday, my eldest daughter and her husband again treated us to another lunch. It took us time to look for a place that would allow my granddaughter’s pet to be with us. Antonio’s Grill was accommodating enough though it was a late lunch of very especial recipes. It was a terribly hot day. Tagaytay’s breeze was not enough to help everyone feel comfortable.

After the very long procession of the images in the salvation drama the night turned out to be chilly, just good enough to disturb my respiratory system after a sudden crazy change of temperature.
I ended up coughing severely as always during hot, dusty season. I failed to join the Black Saturday and Easter Sunday celebrations. I performed my religious duties on Television.

Now they are all gone and back to their own homes. It is not easy for me to change mood from exhilaration to solitude. Now the disturbing noises of the campaigning candidates are helping me cope. Never mind the damage to my already weakened hearing.

To add more gloom to my solitude there is rotating brown out every so often driving me mad as I don’t know where to go for the luxury of a simple electric fan. The hammock and the long bamboo seats at my garden are very inviting if not for the hundreds of tiny insects all enjoying a bite at my ‘delicious’ skin,

I was not fooled during the first day of the month but I feel foolish not knowing how to behave properly in solitude with power interruption and deafening noises caused by unconcerned candidates.

Rain, rain where are you? Come now! Soon… we much need you.