Family Away from Home

July 19, 2006 in Personals, Uncategorized

Last night, I was watching the news on the development in Lebanon and felt empathy swelling inside me as they showed the reaction of the families in the Philippines. The government is flustered as relatives trooped to OWWA offices, asking for assurances of their loved ones’ safety.

Just like every family I know, I also have family members abroad. My father started working in Saudi Arabia when I was six. I remember he would come home every year, bringing me dolls, stuffed toys and my favorite Galaxy chocolates. And he would bring my mother umbrella, same style, same color, each year.

Walking dolls were a permanent content of his balikbayan box until the day I sheepishly told him that as a teenager, I would appreciate CDs more. And while scratching his balding forehead, he had responded, “I guess, that is how I’ve always thought of you, my little girl.”

After 15 years of working in Dammam, Tatay transferred to Chicago. I was a freshman at UP Baguio when Tatay visited me the day before he boarded the plane. His bilin was, “Huwag ka munang mag-aasawa ha.”

I know Tatay was happy to go, we believed America promises better things for our family. But had I known I won’t be seeing him for 12 years (and counting), our goodbyes should have been lavish and pompous. Hugs should have been tighter. And I shouldn’t have acceded to his request of “singlehood” and so avoided breaking his heart when he didn’t get to play the one chance of being Father of the Bride.

My eldest brother, Erwin, works in a telecommunications company in Riyadh. He lives there with his wife and my two nephews for more than five years now. Every year they would also come home, and that is when we have our family outing. That was also our chance to talk about childhood days, over beer and Boy Bawang, while keeping watchful eyes over our kids as they wrestle.

The news about the heat wave in Chicago, numerous bombings in Riyadh, and terrorist attacks elsewhere in the world would send me running to my Nanay’s house. And we would make frantic overseas calls, just to make sure they are alright. And thankfully, up to this day, the worst news that we have received so far was about my father’s broken hip (when he slipped on the snow) and my brother driving like an Arab.

I am sure when families were conceptualized, they are meant to stick together come what may. Parents should be witnesses to their children’s milestones. Siblings should be the best and closest friends. But present-day realities make this setting too good to be true for more than seven million Filipinos. Mothers, fathers, kuyas and ates go away in search for greener pastures. I, too, have been presented with opportunities to work abroad. And it took every ounce of determination I got not to give in, just yet.