April 26, 2008

That's life

There are days when I wake up in the morning and I wonder why things happen. Sure, people say things happen for a reason. Whatever the reasons are, it's up to me to figure it out. Sometimes though, even if I try to make sense of things, reason fail me. Why do people treat other people the way they do? Why is it that no matter how good, how noble my intentions are, things still get messed up simply because other people are too selfish? People pop up in our lives. Some stay, some go, others reappear and then disappear. There's a time and place for everything and anything, right?

Things happen - good, bad, stupid, silly, horrific, fantastic. Yeah, that's life. Like the fire that happened back home. I keep saying something good will come out of it. To anybody who'd care to listen. Someone told me nothing good ever comes out of fires. Which I totally refuse to believe in.

Initial reports about the fire made it seem like there was nothing to go back to. But it's home. There's always something to go back to. According to my sisters, our house still looks the same way. It's Lynn's bedroom that was terribly burned in the main house. Apart from the helpers' living quarters and the storage building at the back of the main house.

How can I not think it was miracle - my parents and sister were here in the US when it happened? That alone is such a big miracle that I'm incredibly grateful for. I keep imagining the house's guardian angel suddenly awoken by fire that early morning Tuesday. And since the angel is alone, it tried its best to protect the house and to direct the fire elsewhere. Is that silly?

But to watch our bedroom in flames was too much to see. Three sisters grew up in that bedroom - the bedroom initially shared by me and my sister Lani. When she moved to the US, Lynn moved in. That bedroom witnessed our highs and lows, our triumphs and defeats, our laughters and tears, our loves and lost loves. It was our safe haven, the repository of our past. I haven't gone home to see it for myself, but I fear when I see it in its current state, I'd break down in tears. Is it better that I haven't seen it yet? A part of me says yes, another part says no. The part that says yes wants to remember that bedroom, that house the way it was, not the way it is now.

Am I in denial?

When I say the word "home", I mean two homes - the home I've created with my husband and the home I grew up in. The first one, a home as dynamic as I imagine our life will be, and the latter, safe and constant.

But nothing remains the same. Nothing remains constant. People and things are in flux, more than we'd care to admit and more than we really like. What else can we do but to go along with the flow?

Someone told me before that when you lose something of importance, you end up getting something even better than what you lost. Even my friend Pie wrote about something to this effect. If that's the case, and I also know it to be true, then we're all up for something better. Most especially for Lynn who lost so much, but continues to forge ahead.

Yes, I know, I will continue wondering why things happen the way they do. I will wonder why people do the things they do. It's a process that I have to undergo. There are things that I need to figure out. And that's not so bad because that's part of life.

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