some places do not exist

until this morning, hospitals ranked first on my list as one of the worst places in the world to be. everywhere around you are people who are either: ill enough to warrant institutional care, related to someone very ill that their faces are pale and strained, there to service those who are ill. i just see it as a place where no one wants to be at all, no matter from what perspective, but have to be there anyway, whether out of need or economics.

there is another place that stands like an open door on the eve of a solstice, ushering in unwanted spirits from other worlds. sometimes i wonder how such places really can exist and yet not exist, too, if only in its physical structure. but once you're done with your business at such a place, it ceases to exist, and those who work in those places know only too well the expressions of people who walk in and out of their doors and look through them as though they were not there. people who work at such places exist only for the immediate needs of the people who are there.

when a 3 year old who is just learning how to read his letters and perfecting his grammar in dutch, english, and tagalog, can go to such a place and then look balefully at his parents with red eyes hurting from holding back tears, you wonder how such a place can call forth such emotions from a young soul. i have come to view the rows and rows of efficiently places counters and conveyor belts with some kind of detachment, eyes lidded, ready to blink out the image once my papers have been scrutinised and my boarding pass has been handed to me, informing me of my immediate exit from such a twilight zone.

airports are among the ugliest places in the world to be. it ushers in people you've been wanting to see for months and years, yet it will be through the same doorway by which your beloveds will depart, taking your heart with them.

when dodo left me for the last time in 2000, i remember him crouching over his suitcase, his eyes beseeching me, "make your choice, make it me, i'll wait for you." that was the last time i ever saw him. the last words i ever saw him mouth at me through the rush of people walking into NAIA were, "i love you." when my best friend, jon, ritchie, and nan who formed the last 4 of the vox pacis choir in europe left last year, it was at the very same spot that my parents had taken their leave days earlier, and through which they would depart barely a year later, just some hours ago as the clock struck 6 in the morning. because of the series of brussels airport departures i have witnessed, i have unconsciously learned to keep my face blank and feel nothing at the moment of last goodbyes and embraces. with my best friend and jon, i couldn't help the few teardrops that squeezed themselves out from between my lashes. with mommy and chuchi earlier, i was like a shell embracing my dad lightly and kissing my mom's cheek. my eyes were on mikka, whose brow was furrowed in a very un-3-year old like manner, eyes swollen while staring at his lolo and lola. he clung tightly to S's leg, his mouth working but unable to utter any words.

if one were made to choose between the lesser of two evils, one would, i believe, rather be the one leaving than the one left behind.

now the coming fall and winter before me looms, while my tummy grows with the precious life within. my baby is due on the 25th of december, the gloomiest and dullest day in leuven. all shops are shut, the streets are empty (ghost town, pare!), and anyone worth knowing has chosen to be somewhere else, all the wiser to avoid the most soulless place on earth.

i don't know when my son, husband, and i will see lola and lolo again, or anyone related to us by affinity or blood. please let it be sooner than we expect, dear lord. may Your time for us be sooner than my worst fears.

and damn them airports. these should only be built for arrivals. i'm getting too old for departures and leave-taking. this old heart can't take any more stretching. too much na. tama na diba.