My silver lining was longing for the horizon laced with sunset, instead it forced it’s fluorescence onto my sterling silver bed. Covered with layers of used cotton sheets and a polyester blanket that left my skin raw. Sleuthing for answers within a rose-colored looking glass, I wept for the truth. Looking up to spiral imagery surrounded by stars on the ceiling. A sun and half drawn moon etched into the white brick wall at the foot of my bed. Wondering what my next steps were while slipping into this new identity, a new life, jail broken or a jail bird while reflections from any piece of metal squinted my eyes to whatever harsh reality; silver linings everywhere. Whoever laid here in this metal coffin before me couldn’t face what had become of them, covered the light with wet tissues. Sleeping next to naivety, ignorance and shame.. my cell mates. What had brought me here, whats left of my purpose and how can I avoid a repeat of this despair? Angel dust sprinkled into my memories we share together but I’m no angel and neither was he. A mother when at my best, the overall picture etched as a near death experience that saved me. Coming out with a fresh persona of who I want to be, taken away piece by piece by those three nights. A lover girl with none to love so I save what I’ve left for my three children, enough for all three as they get lost in translation among the chaos we reaped.
I never wish to be one who hurts others now I just hurt myself. Be here for them but what has been done cannot be undone. What did I make of this, was I alone in the making? Medicated with varying prescriptions, this is my Bethlehem, whatever was left of my American Dream.
An impromptu marriage ceremony sent me and my trans-brother into a last minute frenzy.
Monday, I call to catch up with my Dad who lives in Las Vegas that opened him up to share his two year courtship with his lovely mystery lady. News that sent me into joy and form of duty. I respect his secrecy to keep what’s sacred to him hidden for any cause of dramatics.
Tuesday sent me scrambling for same day round-trip flight tickets while the incoming calls of advice’s come through from my ambitious Aunt and driven Dad eventually leading to swift solutions. Our dad’s family proves quick to help and make things happen for us proven by their heavy lifting comparative to moving mountains. I convince Darian to go with me like steel silver-linings I use to pull these kinds of strings. I know my role of insight urges the importance of perspective, understanding and closure apropos to this exact moment that may help seal a year’s divide within our dad’s family dynamic. DariYan tells me he will come as a form of support and I’m happy to share the news with our Dad’s family. Together with Sam, a devised plan comes together to end the night.
Wednesday morning — a whirlwind of schedules. Sam and Dari welcome the first day of their weekend come 8:00am, carpooling straight to our place thanks to their corresponding shifts and workplace; as I prepare for the start of my work week tomorrow day. As well, Auntie’s family offer their dues with her little’s in tow from their 5 hour layover from CA, Disney. Sure of our dad and his fiancee’s preparations towards ceremony, I assume a shortened sleep for us all. Dead set on mission impossible we all fulfill our roles to complete it.
Sam drives us to the airport with a 5 minute traffic delay with an anxious baby in the backseat. We arrive with 10 minutes to spare before boarding closes and print our tickets downstairs, proof of manifest regardless of how late our check-in was. Next steps, physically check-in at our Gate to receive our golden tickets. We rush to TSA with ID and printed proof of manifest in hand. I make it in with Yan just behind me, taking off my shoes and rushing through their security screening protocols. I look back and Dari has vanished into thin air leading to my 5 minutes of frantically searching, calling and watching the seconds pass. There’s no service.. the odds beginning to stack against this event. I approach a security agent for the whereabouts of my sibling, giving the descriptions of his profile and current situation. An agent who walks humbly towards the older agent in charge of identification, adds more minutes against us. In short strides, he comes to inform me that their agent sent Yan back to ticketing. That was where we just came from, a counterproductive call and a mistake of instruction on their part. I tell him I’ve no cell service to which he tells me that upstairs has better coverage. I run. Following the signage leading to our Gate because from there I’ll buy us some time back. I’m bolting as folks stare and laugh but to my advantage I arrive in the nick of time as Spirit agents are getting ready to close the doors. Two minutes before boarding commences, I give them my ticket while giving my whole spiel. It turns out that Yan could have gone through TSA regardless to no fault on our end yet departure is fifteen till, the next flight out being that evening and not an option. Through my tears I say we need to go to our Dad’s ceremony and I sit down dejected with my hands covering this look. When I call Yan and tell them about the news, he is rushing with a panic to their voice of where they are while the gatekeepers are throwing solutions to our conversation in real time. “Tell the TSA this”, “Use the mobile pass!” then the phone cuts out. I pray that Yan made it to TSA, the area of no cell service. “Well it looks like only one sister is going on this plane” as the agents get impatient but our Dad calls and I break down, solemnly apologizing for so many things; The ticket prices, our efforts and how I’ve failed. He responds calmly that “It’s okay because you’re going to make it. Don’t worry” while also hearing the Spirit gate agents huddled among themselves, “we bring the Spirit, this is OUR gate!” Now several are coming from the ramp and questioning just what is going on and I feel dismay for this spotlight of what should be normal status quo turned frenzy for us, but for them would seem like just a normal day on the job. We’ve only got five minutes until take-off and I’m telling them that my brother is coming, only now they can’t buy us anymore time. I walk to the middle of the terminal walkway staring down the long hall waiting for Yan to turn the corner any second, the agent who demanded the gate finally says “we need to close the doors now I’m sorry” until we see Darian booking a sharp turn. The agent yells “oh they’re running! And fast too!”. Now I’m being ushered quickly into the doors by another nice agent to quickly set foot onto the ramp to secure my seat. I walk onto the plane and see everyone’s faces of impatience and judgments. I check my phone for how much of a delay this caused everyone to see Darian rush into the plane while I help grab their belongings and stuff it under the front seats. It didn’t feel like triumph at first, Darian is crying and I give him a big hug with reassuring words to quell both of our beating pulses. Shortly after, he falls asleep and add my good luck charm to their water bottle. It’s just the start to our whirlwind Wednesday but by then we were met by the comforts of our Dad from a long time no see. After a grand time and a crazy experience we make our flight back home. I drop off my brother and am able to find the comfort of my bed midnight to tell the tale. I’d like to think everyone went to bed having tied up any loose feelings from time apart.
Untouched brush burgeoning through decayed wood fences and years old Ivy climbing up the sides of peeled paint houses brings out the wonder and solemn appreciation of little hidden histories that remain there
The first, flirtatious, with an unpredictable joie de vivre. Swift yet lucky in her ways, reminding me to embrace the moment.
Shortly after came one with enviable aerodynamics that showed me how to accept the reality of change that comes in a flutter of a wing. A reflection of what is meant of my florescence.
The last one was of considerable size to the ones before who didn’t stay for long. He took what he needed then went. A mass, ripe with hidden power that led me to fortify a stronger stem and longer roots.
What are our defining moments — the ones that broke us or the path we carve to get to the light at the end of the tunnel? Maybe that’s entirely up to us. I am healing from so many things.. I sit with them with no release and that’s what this journal is for; a medium that’ll allow me to let go this one last time before I leave it behind me. Apart from typical family pains, my ex illegally withheld my sons from me and my partner the start of 2020, they didn’t get to meet their baby sister for a while. It was beyond me when I called, texted and contacted his family. They blocked me altogether. I received a letter from the court stating he tried to send my boys away without me knowing. My lawyer and I talked about contempt, to me there really was no credible reason for his behavior against me except for self-interest (money) and revenge from what had transpired between us before. The beginning of the case was in my favor because I didn’t cast the first stone, his mother puppeteered his actions to secretly sue me, 18, we were so young.. He lost that case since they had lied and then he lost me. Not by his cheating I kept to myself because of embarrassment from friends, our social circle, especially because both girls were well known in our community, once before and after the pregnancy. No one knew the demons he created in my head, my self-worth deteriorating as I sit at home with a newborn in my arms and he at hers. Sweating palm bullets because I’ve kept this to myself for years. When I finally had the courage to break it off, friends coaxed me out into reality. I couldn’t have primary custody while enlisting, years I’ve tried to keep this memory buried — regretful of this entire military plan forced onto him and I by our parents. Without the boys I didn’t know how to be alone so I sunk into the sins of my nectar until I couldn’t feel anymore. This newfound “freedom” felt more like punishment, I’d go to work then come home so lost and empty. I didn’t know how to be without them, all lights were kept on while Netflix played in my bedroom and living room. I searched for company in anyone who’d give it and when I started putting myself out there more, people in our circle started treating me differently. I heard the things he told people, he saw me confident again and chose to completely tear me down and obliterate my reputation with exaggerations, withholding what he’d done to provoke me. A rift between family had cost me my apartment. Around this time of my life, I would sleep in my car when I stayed in an abusive relationship, as he held my financial situation over me. I was failing college, terrified and directionless with no one to guide me. So it was always “she’s a terrible mess” when I was barely holding my head above water, with a stubborn co-parent who wouldn’t meet me halfway no matter how much I begged. On top of family issues, a failed path in the military and the mess he initially created amongst other things, the odds were severely stacked against me — doomed from the start. They kicked a horse who was already months into a carcass. How? Why? Will I ever recover from this? Before I knew the military plan would fall through I moved to a different city to enlist National Guard where I met my current partner. I finally had career stability at Tesla then my ex completely cut me off. I’ll never forget, the way my oldest son was visibly excited to meet his baby sister then never seeing their faces again after that. I could cry about it now because I was pregnant while he did this and I was afraid the stress affected me badly. It was another traumatic experience, have I not already gone through enough? As if he hands them out to me like free flyers at the market. It no longer affected just me, his coldness was affecting two innocent boys and their baby sister. He never answered the court as to why he did this to me, no explanation whatsoever but I get to see the boys any time and he goes to jail if he ever tries to send them to Philippines ever again without my knowledge. I sat with myself this whole year registering ALL of it. This is how I recovered, I was unburying what I didn’t want to remember. I needed to be brave in order to sit with the echoes of my past by feeling it all over again. I cried, howled screaming in my pillows somehow thinking the pain will leave this way. I did everything; holistic, therapy, medications, nature, spirituality. I can’t continue holding this grudge against anyone and myself, this trauma made me mentally strong and focused but will eat away at me if I don’t let go. I can’t hate anyone or hate what had to happen to me, we are all just completely different people now and their karma’s are not up to me. What helped me the most was time, all that’s left is release for it to come to a close. I didn’t finish just a chapter, rather a whole book, defining moments in form of a series. My next book? Prosperity.
The Wise Old Owl 