Musings From A Grass Widow
Category: Seasons , Life
'Now you're a grass widow'
Our neighbor Mrs. Aragon, 86 and full of wisdom, had told me this, when my husband and I walked up to her gateless driveway where she was seated by her usual perch, on a rocking chair by her massive narra front door. She being vain, once again apologized for the fact that she couldn't properly have her dentures on, having recently had a bout with Bell's Palsy, which of course we had known from Day 1, many months ago. This was the other day, the last afternoon before my husband left for San Francisco, to live out his lawful residency gig and process our own petitions, for a future brand-new start. Which renders me now as an OFW wife.
Really, the worst punishment of being middle-class is separation. Now I can relate.
Mrs. Aragon being graciosa, who lives almost right across us, probably sensed my puffy eyes from non-stop crying and offered comfort by means of an open invitation to sleep over at at any time. And that was probably the only time I smiled that afternoon. I guess that she cried a little too, when my husband came to say goodbye before he left the following morning. That guy -- he had a way with old ladies. And I miss him terribly.
'Now you're a grass widow'
Our neighbor Mrs. Aragon, 86 and full of wisdom, had told me this, when my husband and I walked up to her gateless driveway where she was seated by her usual perch, on a rocking chair by her massive narra front door. She being vain, once again apologized for the fact that she couldn't properly have her dentures on, having recently had a bout with Bell's Palsy, which of course we had known from Day 1, many months ago. This was the other day, the last afternoon before my husband left for San Francisco, to live out his lawful residency gig and process our own petitions, for a future brand-new start. Which renders me now as an OFW wife.
Really, the worst punishment of being middle-class is separation. Now I can relate.
Mrs. Aragon being graciosa, who lives almost right across us, probably sensed my puffy eyes from non-stop crying and offered comfort by means of an open invitation to sleep over at at any time. And that was probably the only time I smiled that afternoon. I guess that she cried a little too, when my husband came to say goodbye before he left the following morning. That guy -- he had a way with old ladies. And I miss him terribly.
9 Comments:
you stopped blogging for a while didn't you? i thought you'd let your blog go...
hi sparks, yes, i've been lazy :)
should be going back more, i miss it.
salamat sa pagdalaw.
Ten days after I gave birth to Maia here in Manila, her dad left for Mindanao to start on a new job and to find a place for us to stay. Maia and I had no one to rely on except Kuya Maui (no helpers, no in-laws in the house) for two months after after Sam left. There were nights when I just sat on the rocking chair with Maia in my arms, crying. I thought the arrangements were taking much too long, to the point of my having asked him once "Gusto mo ba talagang sumunod kami dyan o hindi?" Tsk, tsk, I was terrible.
bambit, i couldn't stop crying when he left. he's my playmate, we're just together all the time. even when he would go to a two-day church retreat i'd miss him already. i suppose if he doesn't come home next week (out of missing us) to drop the whole idea, the next time we'll see him would probably be around christmas.
it's so sad :(
christmas?! oh dear. you better stock up on pipino sweetie, all that crying will not be good for the eye(bags) no no no, we both know you're going to cry all the way to december kaya yes, pipino.
been there too, although mine was never as long as all the way to Christmas. I'm not going to say anything comforting because sometimes, that's not what we need. sometimes we need to cry it out and empty our hearts of the misery. but if there's anything I learned from going through the same experience, it's that there is an end to it and really, if you set your eyes on the purpose of what you're going through, it will be easier to bridge the gap between then and now, and before you know it, the crying is over. you're done. and the only choice you have left is to move forward and up.
I believe you will.
awww...
hopefully things are better now for you, eventhough you're missing him...
kakainis ha... lungkut-lungkutan naman ako sa entry mo, sister. at true si ateng jet (hehe, rumuronda din pala sya ditech sa blog mo), words get in the way. kaya bigyan na lang kita ng cyber hug. :)
keep strong. mabilis lumipad ang panahon. isipin mo nga, june na next week. kalahati na tayo ng taon eh hindi ko pa naaalis ang cellulite ko dala ng piyesta ng pasko. kaya sooner than later, december na ulit. magkikita na kayo...
Hello, old friend. It's been ages. I can't pretend to know what that kind of separation feels like, but I can write in to wish you well. I hope something has changed for the better in between your last post and now.
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