When I was a little girl, I was really into gymnastics. Like,
super into gymnastics. The TV movie “Nadia” was my jam and I memorized every single
scene from start to finish, wearing out that Beta tape the same way I would
eventually wear out my cassette single of “Please Don’t Go Girl” by New Kids on
the Block a few years later.
I'm not going anywhere, Joey McIntyre!
I’m still super into gymnastics, and in my head it’s Cold
War times and I’m able to do one-handed cartwheels and round off back
hand springs like whoa…or как стоп, as they say in
Russian Google.
Girl, do not drink the bleach! Do not drink the...you drank the bleach.
Side note: I have
never again attempted a back hand spring since the time I nearly broke my hip springing
every which way but “back” into our swimming pool.
Alas, reality is so very, very different than the moving
picture show playing in my mind to a Montell Jordan/Eminem soundtrack. And as usual, a part of me has
paid the price for this particular type of lunacy. No – not my ego like the
time I bent myself backwards over the edge of the sofa to see how far I could
go and the whole damn thing came crashing down on top of me because it was NOT about
that bass. Nope. I sprained my ankle while doing a military style exercise…aka
running.
Oh, body – falling apart in so many ways. Keep on keepin’ it
real!
Reality is hard, and the month of October always seems to
bring that fact into laser sharp focus.
Life has been fast and furious, and in less than a
week it will be three years since we had, and lost, Ligaya. It’s hard not to
feel cheated by whoever or whatever is keeping the universe in check. It’s hard not to be angry at God, yet at the
same time bow my head and beg for another blessing. It’s hard not to ask that she
just be allowed to come back.
It’s. Just. Hard.
I say this every year - that the passage of time doesn’t
make it easier. I’ve just learned how to
adapt to this new normal… manage it… bend without breaking. Keep on living. That’s
some real-life gymnastics right there.
This is how we do it.
Please. Be gentle with me this month if you see me coming
your way. I may think of myself as a more rotund, Filipino version of Ronda Rousey crushing
that mountain of grief beneath the heel of my temporary ankle boot (here we go again
with the distorted view of my (in)abilities), but I’m just a mom who is missing her
baby girl very, very much.
That is my reality.
Love, Light and Ligaya - CS
