Arizona Dreaming

1989

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life:That word is love." -Sophocles ***

New year, new beginnings.

I'm not a new year's resolution kind of girl.

Nor do I look forward to January 1st.

To me, it's just another day.

The start of a new month, with eleven others trailing behind it.

But since the life-changing event that happened to me when I was sent to the Philippines against my will, I wrote the things I wanted to do and to happen with the coming of 1989.

The first on my list? Stay with Julia, obviously.

That in itself seemed like a tall order.

I only have less than three months with her.

How to make this long distance relationship work is a Herculean task that thankfully we both agreed to hurdle.

We talked about the things we could do before I left for the Christmas holidays.

We could write each other letters as often we want, I would call her from that neighborhood phone or once she's settled at her dorm, the shared dorm phone.

I would visit her during breaks and we both know that would be tricky since her classes are not the same as mine.

We would make it work.

That seemed like a mantra now.

It made total sense.

The only way to make this relationship thrive was to agree to make it work.

We have to believe it could happen or else what's the whole point of all this planning and brainstorming?

After graduation, Dad and I agreed that I would be flying back to California on my own.

Regina would have given birth at the time—if the baby decides to cooperate.

Nevertheless, I was adamant that he stayed with her.

I'm old enough to go on a trip by myself.

Besides, I did it three times already.

He was worried but I assured him that everything would be okay.

I even asked if he was afraid that I wouldn't come back.

"I know you will." He patted my shoulder.

I promised I would.

What I didn't tell him was, the thought of staying in Manila crossed my mind countless times.

I also made a pros and cons list on that one.

Aside from Julia, what other reason do I have for staying?

My grandparents, of course.

But I'm sure they wouldn't agree.

Even Lola Paula would not be pleased if I stayed.

I could hear Lolo's speech in my head.

"You are young, Arizona. You're whole life is ahead of you. Take this time to explore and to grow...blah...blah...blah."

Besides, I don't want Julia to feel guilty if I change my plan.

She would definitely think she was the reason I changed my mind.

I would deny it and come up with other reasons but when it comes to her, I'm too easy to read.

I have changed a lot.

From being angry and petulant, I have grown to be this person who wanted the best for others.

Sometimes it made me wonder how it happened but the answer was not hard to find.

I chose to change.

I did not think too much into it.

I gave myself the chance to open up into the opportunities that came my way and I invited people into my world.

If I remained sullen and petulant, I don't think I would be a part of the basketball team.

I don't think I would have people who cared for me as much as I cared for them.

Even my relationship with grief was easier now.

It doesn't follow me like a dark cloud hovering over my head, threatening to wash all my happiness away with miserable rain.

I still miss my mom.

Going home to California and seeing every corner that she used to inhabit was difficult in the beginning but I did not cry like I thought I would.

It was in the garden where I felt her presence the most.

We spent a lot of time there when I was a kid.

She taught me about plants and the health benefits of gardening.

She taught me to love and respect other living beings.

That was how she was—loving and caring of every creature.

The expression she wouldn't hurt a fly was a perfect way to describe her.

During my dark days, I was guilty for not taking care of myself.

But those times are in the past now.

I have made my peace with who I used to be.

#

I stopped writing in my journal when the captain announced our landing.

Stretching my fingers one by one, I scanned the page and smiled at what I wrote.

Is this me?

I sounded so mature and put together.

An elderly woman beside me, silver-grey hair cut in a stylish bob, smiled at me.

"Are you a writer, hija?"

"Not yet." I answered.

"Do you journal often?"

I nodded.

"Then you are a writer."

She straightened in her seat as we listened to the announcement from the stewardess to remain seated until we have completed our landing.

As the plane made its seamless descent into Philippine soil, I thought of what the nice lady said.

Perhaps I'm on the right track at this point in my life.

Her words were the perfect gift to usher in the New Year.