So let me write again

A few hours after Nanay passed away late October of last year, I began tapping on the laptop, wanting to capture my thoughts and emotions in a story that I planned to share here in my blog.  But I couldn’t write.  And ever since that fateful day, I stayed away from writing about what I was feeling or thinking (except for the 2 required graduate school papers that I decided to post).  I was devoid of the drive to share what I was going through.  There are things that I wanted to keep for myself.

I’ve always thought that something dramatic would happen and I would be inspired and spurred to write again.  And that the first article I would do would be about Nanay. 

This isn’t.

It’s not that life has stopped moving, or that I don’t have anything interesting to write about.  In fact, I had a lot of materials that I could have easily developed into interesting reads had I been in my element.

I had my first day of graduate school 5 days after we buried Nanay.  I was in an emotional rollercoaster that day – happy, sad, proud, dismayed, excited, and forlorn – but I still couldn’t write.

We had Nanay’s Siyaman and Padasal and I was moved to tears because more stories of Nanay’s unselfishness and life were shared by her friends.  That was not enough to make me write.

I shared a jeepney ride with a very pretty colegiala who was casually dressed in a simple shirt and denim pants, with her hair gathered in a ponytail.  She was not wearing makeup but I could tell from her skin, poise and bearing that she was from a well-to-do family:  “Na aircon-an at napainom ng vitamins nung bata,” as I would like to describe such individuals.  When she was about to alight at Ateneo, I noticed that she was wearing a pair of slippers with the word “Havana” clearly embossed on its straps.  I found another shining example of how simplicity is beautiful.  But still I couldn’t write.

I had an epic wipeout on my bike and I had a partially dislocated shoulder, bruised rib cage, bloodied knees and elbows, and hematoma and scratches all over my back.  And this happened on my Nanay’s 40^th day, which coincided with my wife’s birthday.  Though she was visibly shaken and angry upon seeing me, I did not get a dressing down.  She only spoke a few words as she cleaned my wounds and tended to my battered body.   She never told me to give up biking, as I feared.  It showed how much she loved and understood me.  It was such a poignant moment, worthy of an MMK episode.  But it was not dramatic enough to make me write.

We watched Sting live and I was in a sublime state of euphoria; he is after all one of the few performers that I consider as a true artist, whose music and voice is distinctly his.  But no amount of a-do-do and a-da-da could make me write.

The cold season came and along with it the onset of local honey bee’s annual swarming activities where colonies hatch new queens to start a new family somewhere.  I caught the first bee swarm of the season and I once again experienced the thrill and excitement of catching a swarm, the sense of fulfillment of providing thousands of homeless bees a new home, and not to mention that sense of danger that clambering up high in a tree can bring (My biking injuries did not help). I have a new addition to my growing “bee farm” but still I wouldn’t write about it.

My very first graduate school paper was adjudged best in class and it was a rather surprising and somewhat embarrassing moment for me because my name and academic excellence were rarely mentioned in the same sentence before.  If they have been, I’m pretty sure “not” was used to qualify the connection.  And yet still I couldn’t write.

Amidst the revelry of the UP Lantern Parade, I was moved to tears by a group of peasants and farmers from Casiguran, Quezon who were asking that their land, the same one that they and their ancestors have lived in and tilled for generations, be awarded to them and not signed over to a group of rich investors.  I was not moved enough to write.

My blog hit its first anniversary and it should have been a big deal; after all I have posted 80 articles, resulting into 16,000 page views (The hits over the last few months though were slow because of my inactivity).  Instead that special date, just like a special day for someone that I don’t personally know, passed by unnoticed and uncelebrated.  I couldn’t write about something that I didn’t know was happening.

We spent Christmas in Pangasinan, the first in at least two decades, and the first ever without Nanay.  It was happy and sad, and memorable and different.  The more I did not want to write.

But now I am writing.  Again.

What happened you may ask.  Nothing.  No dramatic moments and eye-openers.  No epiphanies or miraculous floating on air stuff.  I just want to write again.  I am not sure though if I can write about Nanay.  I would when I’m good and ready.  But for now, I will write again.  I am just following the advice of NBA coaches when good shooters are stuck in a shooting funk:  Keep shooting until you see your shot go in.  So I’m writing again, till I see what I am not looking for – which would be a good material for this blog.  Hopefully, I’ll be back in my groove.

Thank you for reading.  Again.