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mood |
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enlightened. |
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| [ |
music |
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Indigo Girls - Ghost |
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The sins of the father are doomed to be repeated by the son.
I hope this goes the same way for what he did right.
I was just leafing through this album that my mom made that chronicled her life from 1968-1980. Before my mom pursued her post-graduate degree, this was her forte and her niche: making kick-ass albums. She did a whole bunch of them, including one for every member of our family.
There were a lot of pictures of my mother in costume, and at dress rehearsals. See, my mom was quite the actress during her college heyday, in Saint Scholastica's College. I saw her passion. That passion was emphasized as I read one of the captions that she wrote which accompanied a picture of her prior to a rehearsal.
During the time she was into theatre was also the time that Marcos was flogging the populace with his dictatorship. Here, she said that she missed the rehearsals for Fiddler on the Roof, because she was too busy marching on the streets. Then, Peque Gallaga (!) asked her this question: "Do you want to be an activist or an actress?" My mom chose the latter. Afterwards, she got to play Chava, Tevye's youngest daughter in Fiddler.
Okay. That was my mom. Let's move on to my dad.
My father was an escapee from the seminary. He was going through a tumultuos time in decision-making, which was around the time he met my mother. So, he left the priesthood, forgot about the expectations of his parents, and ardently pursued my mother.
Now, here's the common thread. See, my mom loved activism. She loved fighting for the people and shit. But she loved the pursuit of truth in the humanities more.
My dad loved being a priest, too. But it was then he realized that he loved the pursuit of my mother even more. It was then that he realized that he didn't really want to be a priest because of God's calling, but he wanted to become a priest because, back in Samar, they were revered as men of God, and the humble townsfolk kissed the ground they walked on.
Now, this is the point. I always thought that themes and foreshadowing existed only in literature. I only see now how wrong I was. Themes and foreshadowing take place in real life, too.
My mother forgot about what society was dictating at the time, which was to fixate themselves on the eternal struggle. She acted.
My dad forgot about what his own standards, as well as his own parents' expectations were. He left the priesthood and married my mother.
I know what I have to do now. I have to follow in my parents' footsteps. I have to participate in a painful exit from the chains that trap me. My daily life, which is grappling the very fiber of my existence rather roughly, is one that I cannot continue to stay in.
My passion comes first before whatever anybody else thinks.
Man. The picture was never this clear before.
I know what I have to do now. To paraphrase Coelho, I have to pursue my personal mission: to read literature, to love reading, to pass that on, and to take part in my passion of letting people realize that God made the human spirit beautiful, and that, even if they are trapped in the quagmire of secular life, they can still be happy by following their hearts and by following Kuya Jess. They can choose.
I can choose. I will choose.
I have chosen.
And I've never felt more free.
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