milenyo-044.jpgThe photo on the left was taken last week on the last day that I attempted to convince Raine to attend school.

Because of typhoon milenyo, it was almost 2 weeks that Raine didn’t go to school. Like most schools here, Raine’s waited until everything has a semblance of normalcy before classes resumed.

BUT for some reason, Raine first didn’t want to be left in school that day he went back — which progressed to throwing fits and puking on the classroom floor, to running out the classroom door into the street road (the moment he found out that lola is not in the parents’ waiting area), to not wanting to go inside the classroom at all.

I’ve tried all kinds of deals and bribery just so we can all go back to our usual routine, with no luck. So I gave up.

Raine has been staying at home for the whole week last week until only he knows when.

It is perfectly alright because for crying out loud, he is barely 4 (!!) but the problem is that, we are back to square one: he wants to go anywhere I go. Yes, including the toilet. Like when it was just me and him in LB.

Therefore it is a daily struggle to go to town to get online. Thank God, internet connection in a few shops is back to normal, I am struggling to fill my blogging backlog for an entirely different reason.

I’ve tried to understand the psychology that he may still have this unappeased fear that I may not come back like that night of the storm, that when everything was falling down, I wasn’t there. Not that I am some superwoman who can hold unto the roof against the raging winds of milenyo…but in Raine’s young mind, everything would be alright if I were right there beside him, come hell or high waters.

This is exactly the reason why I practically ran home that afternoon. I was doing my best so I can get home to Raine. But the winds are faster (and stronger!) than my short legs…so I couldn’t.

THAT is a flattering and a heart-warming thought: my mere presence providing total security in my son’s perspective. BUT, it is SCARY: like when I left him this morning — crying like I’ve already died –I had the oddest fearful thought: what if something really bad happens to me that I can’t come home breathing?

I CRIED, in the jeepney all the way to the city. I am still crying now while composing this entry. Because there are five adults in the house that I left him with and Raine doesn’t feel secured like he normally is in my presence.

Hopefully, this is just a phase. Because Raine is really growing matured and confident of his capabilities, when you hear us talking to each other, you’d think that I am conversing to an 8 year old.

That was the WORST night of my life too, Raine. Even worse than that night I told your father about you and left us, worse than the day your lolo died. Even if I’ve told you countless times that I felt terribly bad not being able to come home, I will tell you again and again and will write about it again and again, so that when you read this blog someday, you will understand how much I LOVE you: that I will brace any storm just so I can get to you.

Any storm Raine, literal and figurative, just so I’ll see that beautiful smile fixed on your face.