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The last time I took the bus home, it was for an awfully painful reason. This Christmas I was actually dreading to take that bus ride again. Not only because of the hassles of traveling alone with a toddler (especially at this time of year) but because our home will never be the same again, now that my father is gone. 

I guess my mother thinks so too and decided she’d come here instead to join me (and Raine) for the holidays. She arrived last Sunday and since then I am gleefully waking up to garlic rice for breakfast (hurray…somebody is cooking breakfast at last!) and Raine has suddenly forgotten how to spoon the food into his mouth (these days, lola has to feed him!)

Image hosted by Photobucket.com Like the many occasions most of us had to be here in LB, we all like to think and feel that Papa is just at home because somebody has to be left behind to take care of the pigs, the chickens and the dogs and cats (his usual excuse anyway). So this Christmas we’ll all be with my uncles (pa’s brothers) in Cavite.

How do you encourage a woman (your own mother) who just lost a dear husband? I honestly have no idea, I just know that I have to be there and cry with her. Cry is what we all do anyway, whenever we sit down and talk. I’m just glad that Raine is there to always put a smile on Mama’s face. So in the last couple of days I’ve been taking the back seat and letting her have Raine all to herself.