FIREFLY

I don't fear death, but I am not saying I am ready for it anytime soon. I have came face to face with it for gazillion of times now, but if there is one similiraity between life and death - that is they both surprise you from time to time.

I had my independence at the early age of 13. When my sister moved to Pasadena after she got married, my mom decided to send me to the States and lived with my sister to study. It was the first saddest moment of my life, when it was them who decided for me no matter how much I disagreed.

It was a community of Filipino Migrants, and being the newest migrant in the area - I felt like I had been thrown to a deep sea where drowning was easier than trying to swim.

At 13,  I had to do all the things by myself. Get up early so I won't miss my school bus, stay up a little late at night to get all my stuff ready for the next school day. My sister was keeping a 9 to 6 job then, while my brother in law usually took a trip to Neveda on work days and come home only during his day off.

My mom back in Manila was running the businesses that our father had left for us. It was during those times when video conferencing was something only few had an access to. I always got reminded of the purpose of all these. The opportunities that would await me as soon as i finish  school up.

Years have passed and I have gotten used to living my life in California. I have noticed the change in my accent, and I have learned to rely on myself alone. Until I got admitted in the University of Alaska. My life became centered on my goals - strictly on it - to earn a uni diploma and come home soon to take over my mom's position in the company.

As I turned 22; the memory of the 13-year old boy, who were sent to America with no choice, has long been gone. I was a total different person. I think, I got to wear a thicker skin due to all the racism and bullying that I have been through.

My mom was right, there will be hefty amount of opportunities for me. As soon as I graduated with a degree in Business, it seemed that wallstreet was waiting for me.

There were a lot of changes in plans. There were so many offers of coming home that I said No to, only because i firmly believed that they were the ones who wanted me to be here. So, I rather stay here than be pushed away again by my family.

At 23, I landed a job in Manhattan. It paid me well enough to live decently in New York without sharing an apartment witn somebody. My sister have been moving from one place to another due to her husband's job. She has 2 kids - all boys.

Until one evening, just when I got home from a tough Monday at work, my attention got caught from a voice message on my telephone. When I had it opened, it was my sister telling me to call her for my mom got really sick back home.

Since I moved here, I have never sat foot in the Philippine soil again. My mom got to visit me for at least 4 times, and I have grown a cold heart towards her.

"Nick, between us, two, it is only you who can go back home and look after Mama. She needs you." My sister told me in her usual assertive tone.

Right. Just when things are in favor of me, I had to turn my back and come home to somebody who had made me dreamed a dream that was not for me.

My sister shouldered my plane ticket, she emailed me it even before i knew about mom. Luckily, I was given 2 weeks leave from work, and I told my sister that 2 weeks were all I got.

The next morning, I just found myself inside JFK Airport with 2 luggages and with only my plans of returning here as soon as I could. It was a long flight. The whole homecoming idea did not excite me at all.

I don't remember being stuck on a traffic jam this long, with so much people on the streets, and with noise as deafeaning as that of EDSA. I am back, and I am not happy to be here.