Perhaps I’m getting old(er). I feel nostalgic writing this entry tonight. While my neighbors are mostly asleep, I’m sitting in front of my computer, blogging…
I miss strolls along Session Road, while eating hot pandesal with butter. I miss wondering around Burnham Park’s Melvin Jones grandstand or the boating area, while exchanging stories with my fellow Baguio friends. I miss Baguio.
I took my youngest daughter to a nearby plaza/park in our subdivision. It was the only patch of green here. But I am not complaining. At least I do get some fresh air there, while we stared at the crescent moon. On weekends, I take my daughter for a stroll in our subdivision. She loves walking and the outdoors (she spends most of the day at home). It was a “welcome break” for her — and me. Having been traveling recently to different places, I miss the times when life only meant waking up, going to school, chatting with friends, watching a movie in Mng. Tommy’s home (our tambayan in Baguio), and sipping barako. Sometimes, we play tong-its all night. Loser shuffles the deck of cards.
I chose to live outside of Metro Manila because I miss the slow life. City life is just getting more stressful. While I often boast about the Philippines and the good life here, I can’t stop hating most bus drivers who don’t care about the noise they create whenever they honk their horns to call people’s attention. It’s just irritating. So I’ve found some good use of my iPOD. When I’m in EDSA, I turn off the music, but I keep the earphones in place to save me from the deafening noise of several buses honking. But I digress.
I miss waking up in the morning to the sound of birds chirping outside. Sometimes I deliberately would turn off the television, and any modern “distractions” to slow down. Of course, it is best to relax when there’s good music on.
I’m now looking outside my window. I see Christmas lights all over. My neighbor has a Santa Claus in a sleigh lightshow. I only have a little tree with dancing lights.
I miss the cool holidays in Baguio. I remember walking around John Hay’s Scout Hill. And as we breathe, a white vapor would come out of our mouths. Fogs in Baguio were a regular phenomenon in Decembers and the cold months. It was the time that we don our trenchcoasts, windbreakers, and sweaters. Life was simple then…I miss the simple life.