Looking out through the window as the sun starts to shine after a rainy morning, a nostalgic feeling creeps in as memories of days gone by starts rolling before my eyes. I dare not say those days were perfect, but at least for me it is worth remembering. Papa was then so full of life and used to make us "champorado" or chocolate porridge on a rainy day like now. Mama would be very busy doing household chores and scolding us for not helping. Albeit the rain, the house is so alive with the noise and buzzing of us children playing. It is my picture of a house I can call home.
Ahh, I remember times we sneak out and play in the rain. We even go swimming in the rice fields as rain water slowly fills the paddies. I can only imagine now the frustration on the farmers faces after seeing us playing and running over their rice plantation. At times we hear them yelling from afar which would set us running back to the house so quick like lightning.
A memory can only remain a memory. No one can ever bring back the past. Still memories of our home will live forever in my heart. The joys of the past and even the not so joyful ones keeps me moving forward. Papa's passing a long long time ago may have then marred a thread of optimism as if the days ahead would be gloomy like a stormy sky. But, his memory pushes me to continue his bright and sunny disposition in life. Like, Papa, Mama may not be as quick now as she was before, still, I am grateful we children are still able to share these new days with her. We keep creating memories that hopes to inspire our future and the future of our children and the children of our children and even the children after them. These was, are and will be the memories of "our home".
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