I have a five year old son named Inigo. Bibo. Smart. Gwapong katulad ko. Madalas napapasnsin ko syang nagsusulat. Sa twing sisilip ako at itatanong kung ano yun bigla nya kong itutulak palabas ng kwarto nya.
“Dad no peeking. Outside. Outside my room.”
“Fine. Fine. My hands up already.”
At ngingiti ngiti ako habang umiiling pagkasarado nya ng pinto.
Meron kaming kapitbahay, well they are close to us actually, a family friend ever since my wife and I had decided to bought a house in this village, at me anak din silang isa. A girl named Aliah. Magandang bata. Palagay ko, my son got a crush on her. Twing bibisita kase kami sa kanila parating excited tong anak ko pero pag andun na eh kala mong walang bibig dahil hindi makapagsalita. Sinusunod nya lang yung sinasabi ni Aliah. O kaya naman eh sasagot lang pag magtatanong yung isa.
Parati nya din hinahatiran ng paborito nyang spaghetti si Aliah sa twing ipagluluto sya ng Mommy nya.
At hindi pumapayag na hindi katabi si Aliah sa school bus nila o sa upuan sa kanilang school.
Ayaw na ayaw nya din na ipinapartner si Aliah o tinutukso sa iba. Nagagalit sya, nagtatampo, at bigla biglang hindi na magsasalita.
Isang gabi pagkatapos ng dinner umakyat agad sya sa taas. Sinundan ko ng hindi nya namamalayan. Nakita kong meron syang kinuhang box sa ilalim ng kama nya. Binuksan nya yun. Meron syang kinuhang parang sketch book at umupo sa study table nya. Pinagmamasdan ko lang ang anak ko at maya maya eh lumapit ako sa kanya.
Me sinusulat pero hindi ko naman maintindihan so I have decided to ask him.
“Son, what are you doing?”
“Writing a letter for my girlfriend.”
Sumagot syang di tumitingin sakin at dirediretso pa din sa pagsusulat.
“Do you even know how to write?” Nakangiti kong tanong sa kanya.
“No. So what Dad? My girlfriend doesn’t know how to read it. But every time I gave her things like this, I made her smile.”
Mahabang paliwanag nya sakin.. Lalabas na sana ako ng room nya ng bigla syang magsalita pa ulit.
“It’s love Dad. You won’t understand.”
I kisses his head at lumabas na ko sa room nya ng nakangiti.
Maybe that is. That love isn’t about how old you are. It could happen anytime. And anyone can feel it at the moment you less expect it. That we define love on how we understands it. And perhaps, when it comes to love age is really just a number. And there’s no need to find reasons when you love, it just happens somehow.
That irony..
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By the way, Inigo here, reading my Father's old diary whom he written 22 years ago. Just found it under his bed:)
