I wrote this four years ago and sent to my friends as a Christmas message...
"There are no blue Christmases, only blue people."
December 24: It was freezing cold. The temperature dropped to it's lowest that year. For the first time in nine years, Salt Lake had it's White Christmas wish come true once again. It was the first for me.
Across my window, the pouring snow softly covered everything. The air was still, unscathed like my bed prepared that day by Juana Rosa. As the black ice waited for it's ambush victims, the green bushes reached out unwillingly for its fate. Starting that day, they'd be caressed by snow instead of light.Along with the once dull houses, ponds and pine trees, the mountain crests proudly stood from afar boasting it's resurfaced beauty hidden only 'till winter time.
It was my first Christmas away from home.Two fifteenish, yet it looked like it was already six outside. The TV has been muted for a while, so was my radio-alarm. The heater was up (thank God) and the lamp at my study table kept my room lit and comfy.
I was lying in bed with my usual one-month-old-unwashed-pajama and sweatshirt, playing with my weather-beaten and well-travelled pilot pen. My journal laid flat on my lap, facing me, pleading me to write something.But I could barely move my fingers, it was my first Christmas away from home!
It felt so cold and it made my bones shiver endlessly. Made my ears hurt, turned my nose red, and shrivelled my heart. That day Christmas drilled a hole in my soul. I felt so guilty, alone and sorry for my self.
I thought, I should have stuffed my self with tons of puto bumbong and my favorite bibingka back home last Christmas. I should have ventured traffic, waited patiently in those long lines, or fought my way at the MRT. I should have even tried to attend atleast one of the nine Misa de Gallos. I should have gone out as a crazy Santa for my crazy nieces and nephews.
Simply put, I should have enjoyed Christmas last time and not whine over the rush, the insane traffic, and the low Christmas bonus. I was too stubborn!It was my first Christmas away from home, it was the day I realized how much I have loss, and how much I was lost. It dawned to me how much I value those might-have-been Christmas memories, even those little and crazy things.
I was stuck in a room by snow, in a far away country where Holloween was considered more fun and exciting. With the knee-deep snow outside, there wasn't anything to do but hibernate and painfully watch the most anticipated season for all Christians pass me by.You know what I did? It was my first Christmas away from home and
didn't waste my time by lingering. I called home. I called my family and friends. I told them how I missed them. I told them how I missed paskong pinoy. And that no matter what most pinoys say against this season, nothing will ever compare with families and friends celebrating Christmas together.
The calls I made cost me more or less a hundered bucks, but it was all worth it. Hearing their voices and us laughing together warmth my heart in the midst of that far away cold place.
