Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Big Boys Do Cry...



"You are my first star at night,
and I'll be lost in space without you..."


Here it goes again. It's playing on repeat. And every time it does, I know exactly what is happening...


It's my mom's favorite song, Lost in Space, by Lighthouse family, something that hit the airwaves back in the 90s. Maybe not so many know this song, but in our home, it's like a lullaby, or a love song, or a song of grief. Long ago, it was played in our home for the first time on a mothers day, on a cassette player. I even tried to have my rendition of this song although it is for a male voice and a key lower for my voice. But when my mom died, it started to be played as a way to cope with grief, or to shake off sadness. When mom died, my boys, my brothers, played it on repeat every lonely day, like this day is.


Yes, big boys do cry, and how I wish I can draw them close to my arms every time. But I know I can't and I should not. I can never give comfort the way my mom did, it will be more painful for all of us. So I let them have their own time, a time to shed their tears silently, until such time they'll be ready to stand up again for themselves, for us.


I remember the day when we received the call that told us about mom. I was cooking sopas for our breakfast back then. It was almost done, but my tongue couldn't even taste a thing and I couldn't even swallow because of the lump inside my throat. I was trying hard not to burst into tears, especially in front of my two brothers. They need me, they need me to be strong. So I said, "Kain muna, kain muna tayo..."


Earlier, it was almost the same thing. I prepared something for our dinner, and called up for my brother. When he went down, his eyes were still red from crying, but I smiled. That smile. I know it will never be enough to take their tears away but I smiled, a reassuring smile and talked about trivial things, and talked about the world, as if I never heard them grieve or saw them cry. Yes, they are my boys who cry over their loss, but they are my men, the men I always count one. So I have to be their girl, who fights and tease them like a cat, and their woman whit whom they could find the strength to go on.


Oh God, thank you for the luxury to see them crying.. Their vulnerability is something I really treasure, but Lord, it breaks my heart, it weakens me. Although I tried to stand firm for them
I still wobble with their tears. So please, dry their tears away and comfort them in your loving arms, and teach me to be the woman they need, Lord.


After having our dinner, my brother rushed to his work. He said he needed some distraction. And once again, he strides like a big man out into the world.


Big Boys do cry...
And when they're done, they look up, and wonderfully turns into a man.

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