I turned 31 yesterday.
My son, Nicholas, has his own analysis of this number: there are three of them (my children) and one “me” (the mother). I modified his analysis a bit and told him that in my life there are three mutants (Nick, Toni and JJ) and one greatest love (their Dad).
Nicholas replied, “Oh. Great. Good thinking Mom!”
We are in the beautiful Hale Manna Resort in the southern Cebu town of Moalboal.
It’s beautiful out here.
It’s serene.
Jeff and I were elated to hear crickets going about their business as we spent some alone time by the balcony of the house we’re staying in for the night.
We had two boxes of pizza for dinner, made by the famous Handuraw chain of the Pestaño-Smith family, who also operates the Hale Manna resort.
A fairy godmother gave this overnight stay for me as a gift. My original plan was to come over next week for Jeff’s birthday (yes, he’s also born in August!) but I decided it’s better to come here on my birthday because: (1) I want to go back to Moalboal, a place now close to my heart after working on a feature on the library revamp of the Cebu Technological University campus in this town; (2) I have never been to Hale Manna; and (3) The Ruffolo family have not experienced local travel in Cebu which involves a four-hour land trip from Liloan (northern Cebu) to Moalboal (southern Cebu).
We don’t own a car, much to the surprise of many. Jeff drives but he doesn’t want anything to do with Cebu traffic, which is getting worse everyday. I, on the other hand, don’t drive because: (1) I don’t want to deal with Cebu traffic; and (2) I strongly believe that driving will kill me because I can’t focus when I drive (or at least when I try to drive).
Our family of five plus Ate Joy took a tricycle from our subdivision in San Vicente, Liloan to the taxi stand in our neighboring town of Consolacion. It was 15 minutes past nine in the morning.
My children love tricycles! It’s a joy ride for them. They know exactly their spotsminside this ubiquitous mode of transport in our part of the world.
We boarded a taxi unit with a driver who turned out to be our neighbor (which we only learned during the ride). I asked him to bring us to the South Bus terminal as our plan was to take the bus to Moalboal. I love long bus rides and I was hoping to infect my children with the same sense of adventure.
But then neighbor driver offered to bring us all the way to Moalboal for a rate that was so good that I found myself telling him to take us there.
It was a smooth ride that only involved one stop in the town of Minglanilla so Jeff can buy chips and bottles of water from a 7/11 store.
Nicholas was restless the whole time. He kept on describing – wait, broadcasting – what he saw outside of the window. He kept on asking us when is Christmas going to come and why Christmas Eve hasn’t arrived yet. Goodness, the boy was a major chatterbox!
Antoinette was pensive. She was happily observing what was going one. She gave a comment or two but for the most part, she helped Jeff and I in telling Nicholas to slow down.
JJ was sleepy one moment; hungry the next. Our resident cutie pie has a voracious appetite that can’t be satisfied with biscuits. With Jeff Junior, meal time is a grand production of nourishment from all food groups paired with water and/or juice.
You can imagine the circus that was happening inside the vehicle, a taxi unit that was headed to Moalboal.
Traffic in the city of Carcar is just as worse as Consolacion/Liloan and that snailed our way to Moalboal for a bit. But once we got past that road horror, we were happily traveling the southern Cebu road singing Wheels of the Bus and the ABCs. We reviewed our lesson on the solar system and I engaged in a “debate” with Nicholas why Pluto is not anymore part of the solar system. (I made a mistake in showing him an old video which still had Pluto in the list.)
We arrived in Moalboal a few minutes after one in the afternoon as the Hale Manna staff were busy catering to the lunch crowd.
It’s a full house, the receptionist said, but told me that our room is ready.
Nicholas was already exploring the area while I was checking us in.
Antoinette was seated right across where I was, while JJ tried to follow his older brother as Ate Joy was managing him.
You see, we were not supposed to be here. I forgot to book a room for this resort in advance. I was informed that the resort is full Tuesday last week but on a Thursday, someone told me there is a room that we can use. I was giving a lecture and workshop on feature writing for the Siloy Campus Journalism Workshop organized by Cebu Daily News when I got the text message from a fairy godmother saying that another fairy godmother is hosting our stay in the resort as a birthday gift.
What a blessing!
We had a great lunch of grilled bangus (which Jeff devoured with gusto), sweet and sour fish, two orders of calamares and tortang talong (eggplant omelet). All these food were washed down with cold pineapple juice served in a translucent pitcher.
Restless Nicholas headed for the beach soon after but it was low tide so we headed to swimming pool just when the rain poured to bless me on my birthday.
It was symbolic for me.
Rain has a way of calming a tired soul.
It has the same effect on me.
All five of us dipped in the pool for 30 minutes or so. The twins love splashing water on its each other. JJ was curious about kicking his feet so he can swim. We were exhausted in no time and headed back to the room for shower and siesta.
Dinner was two boxes of pizza, pineapple juice and big slice of chocolate cake which the Jale Manna staff prepared for all of us.
Everyone sang “happy birthday” although if you watch the video from start to finish, you will hear Jeff Junior screaming and begging to have a piece of the cake.
We tried to take a decent family picture but this is all we can muster:
Ate Joy prepped the children for bed as Jeff and I stayed behind to talk about mundane things and marriage. We shared and compared notes on how we are doing so far as husband/wife and what we can do to be better in being lovers and partners.
It was still 8:30 when we entered the room.
Lights were out and the twins were sleeping inside the castle tent I recently bought online. JJ was with Ate Joy wrapped in a cozy, warm white blanket.
Upon hearing my voice, the twins got out of the tent and asked if they can sleep on the bed with Daddy and yours truly. Jeff didn’t have much of a choice because it’s my BIRTHDAY!
As I heard JJ whimper and whisper some unintelligible words, the twins climbed up our bed and wrapped themselves with a blanket – Nicholas to my right, Antoinette to my left.
The first firstborn cupped my face, looked into my eyes and said,
“Happy Birthday Mom. I love you very much.”
Not to be outdone, the second firstborn hugged me, kissed me and said,
“You’re the best Nanay. Be a good girl always.”
Every year, since I turned 20, people joke about turning old. I did not look it at that way. My argument was, “I will only start getting old when my age is off the calendar.”
I’m 31 years old, one more year and my age will go beyond the maximum number of days in a month. Next year, I’m off the calendar; next year, I will start getting old.
But what does it means to be “old”?
To me, it means Only a Little Distance. A little distance to what? To death. It’s not a morbid truth, it’s a beautiful reality and I have been saving up for it hence, the life plan and the life insurance. I seriously don’t want to be a burden to my family.
But before I face death, which I target to do when I’m 969 years old (Methuselah!), I still want to do more and be more. I’m only 31 years old… only a little distance to greatness. I live only a little distance to communities snd teachers who need libraries and need education on how they can be better storytellers so they can help more children succeed in life.
I’d like to believe getting old is about getting more mature and making more informed choices and opinions. It means being more discerning in my judgment and being more discriminating in my food choices.
It means writing more stories that matter and reading more books which make me happy, sad and excited.
Thank you to the three people who sent me text messages, the close to 200 people who posted birthday greetings on my Facebook timeline, who sent private messages on Messenger and the lone person who sent me a birthday greeting on Skype.
Thirty one looks very promising from where I’m sitting right now… welcoming the sunrise as I hear birds chirped their morning’s repertoire.
