Spending birthdays away from home

Ace Tamayo

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'I realized I wasn’t dreaming anymore. I was back in my room in Australia, 9 months after I decided to leave the Philippines for good'

It was the 18th of May 2007 and the cold autumn breeze woke me up at 7 in the morning. I cleared my eyes and remembered it was my birthday. But something was different. I realized I wasn’t in my room in Quezon City anymore.

A few seconds later, after I heard cawing crows instead of beeping jeepneys on the road, reality started to bring me back together. I realized I wasn’t dreaming anymore. I was back in my room in Brisbane, Australia, 9 months after I decided to leave the Philippines for good.

It was a Friday and everyone was at work. I was alone in the house and the cold weather made me decide to stay in bed instead. I really did not want to do anything that day. I just wanted the day to end.   

But just before I decided to sleep-in, my phone rang. It was my mother calling from the Philippines.

“Hello, anak,” she said. “Happy birthday.”

For the first time, I felt the distance from where I was. My mother’s voice made me feel so loved yet so alone.  

Phone calls from mom

“Thank you, Ma. Pero Ma, long distance ito. Mapapamahal pa kayo nito,” I said. (But Ma, this call will be expensive because it is a long distance call.)

I really didn’t know how to react to phone calls like those. Those calls were of a different kind. But it didn’t take me long to decide that I really didn’t want my mother to hear me miserable. So I cut the call short.

But mother insisted that it was okay. “Five more minutes, anak,” she begged.

My mother was my strength but hearing her at that very moment made her my weakness. I started tearing up and covered my mouth so no one would hear me weep.

I missed her a lot. I realized that one of the toughest realities of living thousands of miles away from home was spending my birthday alone.

“I miss you, anak. Proud na proud ako sa’yo,” mother said. (I miss you son. I am very proud of you.)

There was silence for 10 seconds. I had a million things to tell her but all I could think of was “thank you.” And so I did say it and ended the call.

One wish

If genies were real, I didn’t need 3 wishes for my birthday; all I needed was one. I knew what I’d wished for. I’d wish to be home with my mother.

But genies weren’t real and birthday wishes sometimes don’t come true. And so I got up from my bed and faced reality once again.

I got my hoodie from the cabinet full of pictures of my family back home and went straight to kitchen to cook breakfast. Flashbacks of my past birthdays started to fill my memory.

I remembered it was a tradition on my birthday that mother would order tinapa (smoked fish) and cook it together with sinangag (fried rice) for breakfast. She knew it was my favorite. For dinner, father would treat us to Kenny Rogers at SM Fairview because it was near and affordable. While all day, my older sister would annoy me and gift me a piece of TicTac candy and tell me how much she hated me. She was kidding, of course, but I never complained. I was loved and I was happy.

All those small things became priceless to me. I realized how I took them for granted back then. I thought things like those would never change.

Getting used to it

Years passed and my birthdays came and went. I thought my first birthday away from home would be the toughest but I realized the second was even harder. Emotions, which were once forgotten, were harder to experience again.  

But on the third, the fourth, the fifth, and the sixth year, I learned to fight those wistful emotions. I started to become numb and forget being sentimental. Time made me forget why I would dread spending my birthday alone. Phone calls became text messages and greetings became just one Facebook click away.

The year I turned 18, my friends gave me a surprise party. The next two birthdays were celebrated with lunches and dinners with friends and my cousins. On my 21st, I decided to throw a party. I invited more than a hundred guests in a fancy club in the City. That night, I forgot sadness but I also forgot to answer my mother’s calls and text messages.

But how could I blame myself for forgetting? At some point I intended to forget because it was the only way. I needed to disregard my emotions to be sane spending years of my birthdays alone.

I called my mother the morning after but it was my father who answered.

I fear my father. He was the disciplinarian and he says it as it is. I knew he was going to be mad.

“What happened last night?” dad asked.

I apologized and made random excuses on why I didn’t pick up and answered their messages.

“Okay anak. Mag-ingat ka. I miss you,” father said. (Okay son. Take care. I miss you.)

My father was never sentimental. I knew he loved me but he never showed his emotions to us. Yet his message hit my very core. I realized that trying to forget them just made it worse.

Back home

Two years after that, I finished college and it was time to visit home.

Fortunately, my vacation landed on the month of my birthday.  

I was anxious about finally being back. More than that, I forgot how to spend my birthday back home.

My mother was the most excited because her only son would finally spend his birthday with her. She thought our family would finally be complete.  

Then it was May 18 again. I woke up in my cold air-conditioned room but this time, it couldn’t deceive me. I could hear the sound of beeping jeepeneys outside and I was back in my room in Quezon City.

Someone was knocking on my door. I stood up and opened the door. I saw my mother standing in front me.

“Happy birthday, anak!” she said. “Time for breakfast.”

I went downstairs and saw tinapa and sinangag prepared on our table. Mother remembered my favorite. It was just like old times.  

My father and sister were already sitting at the table. I knew I wasn’t dreaming but it felt liked it with my family together in one table again.  

I didn’t need a genie that time. It was all that I asked for. I guess, sometimes, birthday wishes do come true. – Rappler.com

Ace Tamayo is a journalist and an Australian Clarion awardee. He is currently pursuing his law studies at the TC Beirne School of Law at the University of Queensland in Brisbane, Australia. Ace left the Philippines when he was 16 but he still visits the country regularly. Follow him on Twitter @AceATamayo

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