Life and Its Whatnots

Chapter One.

Chapter One.

Today - March 30, 2007 - marked our final step into Senior High: caps tossed high in the air, eyes flicker for a promise of a brighter future (that sense of "new adventure"), smiles plastered on each of our faces indulging in every moment to feel this valued achievement, hearts joyful with every memory spilled out and shared in its glorious spotlight of laughter. 

I breathe a long and calm breath, reminding my lungs how it likes the taste of air - legit fresh air, by the way - here in Cateel National High, my second home for four years. It's fun to watch the trees sway and dance to the music of the wind, even the heat of the sun is such a warm reminder of hope. I had learned to love this place. And now, it's time. 

This is it.

We are moving forward.

Surreal.

For me and my Dad, though, moving forward means literally packing the last sixteen years of our lives in a backpack and transporting them to a city 900 miles away from all the memories we had of Cateel.

Cateel was and is a small town where everybody knows everybody. The population is just around 5000 to 10,000 families or 40,000-below people. The natives here are generally friendly and sincere. I believe this town is the oasis in the desert: we overflow with too many greens - trees are just everywhere! There's not a house without a tree in its backyard (not an exaggeration). The woods and the lake are two of the most visited places here; it's also our favorite place as a family aside from our farm.

My parents decided to live in Cateel after they marry. They're happily living here for five years together before me and my brother, Parker, came. My Mom died giving birth to us - her twins - but ever since then, my dad stayed strong for us. He gets stronger for us every day and yet, long before this moment, we resolved that it's time to let go.

To be honest, I never fell in love with high school. I hear Granny say that it would be the best years in the life of every generation. I felt otherwise. I dunno. But it was in high school where I almost resigned my dreams of becoming a writer. I don't want to do this anymore, actually. I don't want to go back and relive every single detail of what high school looked like for me nor do I want to start talking about my plans for college through writing. But I made a promise to Parker. I don't feel good breaking promises.

Parker is the reason why I started writing on my journal again after abandoning it for more than a year. Before it used to be so easy because words spill out from you and you have to pour it out like it's some hot chocolate Granny made and you just can't contain it inside its kettle. Words used to be easy. Unearthing syllables from the ground used to be the most relaxing thing to do. Facing the challenge of a blank page used to be a thrill. I have always been outspoken for my love of writing and literature until two years ago, I decided that no, I needed to be an oncologist. I needed to understand Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia, CLL as it was called, and why it happened to my brother.

***

A month after we celebrated our 14th birthday, Parker became really really sick that he had to take a leave at school and be confined in a hospital. I thought he just became overly fatigue from all the activities he's been doing and being the Parker that he is - the Student Body President, one of Credo (Cateel Dance Company) choreographers, plus his additional after class Track and Field trainings three times a week - one may seem to think that his body just wanted to rest for a while.

When he was in the hospital, there were various lab tests that he was required to go through because his fever went too high on some days and his coughing went from bad to worse that he can't pause to take a deep breath interval. During weekends, I joined Dad to stay in the hospital and be there for my brother. Thereafter, when Parker is quite recovering, positive that he'll be discharged in a matter of days, the doctor broke the terrible news to Dad.