Frames of Yesterday: "Tears from the Nostalgic Photos"

 

♫ "Parang kanina lamang, nung tayoy mga batang walang kinatatakutan, sa bukas ay walang pakialam" ♫

I opened a box from yesterday, hidden beneath years of dust and forgetting. Inside was an old album, leather-bound and weary, its spine almost cracking, like time itself sighing. This suitcase contained many memories from my childhood, my younger self happy and without signs of weary. 

Binuklat ko ang mga pahina ng alaala, bawat larawan ay parang bulong ng kahapon. Naroon akong munting bulilit sa bisig ng ina, mata niyang tila ilaw, sa gabi kong may alinlangan sa dilim. 

There I was, in sepia smiles, grinning with peanut-butter-stained cheeks, on a summer day when the world was no bigger than the front yard and my red bicycle.

Nasa lumang litrato ang aking unang bisikleta - pulang-pula, parang puso kong nananabik sa paglakbay muli. Ang damuhan ay naging daan sa paggabay habang si Nanay ay sumisigaw: "Kaya mo 'yan anak! wag mongbibitawan ang manibela at bumalanse ka ng maayos!"

She was the sun in every frame, her hands, a map of my beginnings, her laughter, the chorus that stitched my wounds. How still and warm she looks in that captured light.

Ebe Dancel - Paalam Kahapon

Little me throughout the years

Sa bawat larawan, naroon, buhay na buhay si Nanay, angkanyang halakhak ay tila musika ng aming tahanan. Hindi pa siya kinupkop ng katahimikan, hindi pas iya alaala-siya ay buhay na buhay pa rin sa aking puso't-isipan magpakailanman.

One photo showed her brushing my hair, while I pouted, pretending it hurt. But oh, how I'd give the rest of my years to feel her fingers untangle my fears. 

May litrato kaming magkahawak-kamay sa liwasang may mumunting ilaw. Noon, akala ko'y laging may ganyan, ngunit ngayo'y larawan na lang ang tahanan. Nakakamis ang tinig ng aking ina, ang kanyang mga ngiti na nagtatanggal sa aking pag-aalala kung may problema. 

Pictures are lies that tell the truth - that once, we were whole, we were held, we were loved in the ordinary glow of kitchen light, in the soft shadow of someone's loving arms. I feel safe. 

Ang mga larawan ay pintuang bukas sa mundong mas tahimik, mas puno ng lambing. Ito'y pahina ng kwentong hindi na maisusulat muli, ngunit inuukit sa pusong muling nasasaling. 

So I linger a little longer today, with coffee gone cold and heart grown warm. Because in these quiet frames, I find a child still loved and comforted, a mother still alive. 

At sa bawat pagbabalik tanaw, di ko man maibalik ang panahon, ang mga luhang pumapatak sa bawat litrato ng alalala ay nariyan ang larawang tila dasal, tila yakap, tila si Nanay pa rin ang bumubulong:

"Anak, mahal ka pa rin ng kahapon."