The Little Things

Got off the phone with my parents --they just wanted to make sure things were okay following my most expensive latte episode.  They asked after Daz and his parents.  Am glad that the one thing (of the many) that we accomplished by having such a small wedding is that our parents bonded after a fashion and even spent a few nights getting wasted and hysterical (as in laughing) at Chateau Royale.

When Daz met them for the first time, my parents weren't very happy.  After all, I still had law school to graduate from and they (my dad, specially) were deathly scared that we were going to ask their permission to marry.  Hardly!  Daz just wanted to meet them and wanted them to see who their daughter was dating.  The first dinner at home went smoothly enough but henceforth he was known as "ang australyano".  My dad could never bring himself to say Darren's name --mostly because he was afraid that being that familiar with Darren would hasten me being married.  I had to remind my dad that it was me he was talking to --the daughter who chose to leave home at 15 to search out her truths.

On the 17th we mark the 6th month that we've been married and while the changes in both our lives aren't that blatant since we're both still living apart, the little things still make me stop sometimes and realise yikes, we really are married.

It amuses me no end to see Daz graduate from "australyano" to "ang bata ko nga bukay"*. 

My parents shop for their 4 kids (my sister, my brother, Daz and I) now and life goes on. 

My parents' house, while remaining to be the same house I grew up in, seems less mine that it ever has been.  I can't explain it.  I haven't lived there in years (I have spent more years in Manila than Bacolod) and while I have taken to calling "home" in Bacolod as "my parents' house" over the years after I moved into this apartment... it just seems, well, less mine.  Basta.

My sister tells me the bank advised her that the account I opened up in Bacolod before I went off to college was closed due to inactivity (I haven't used it in yeears) and thus marked the end of an era.  Truly gone are the days of fortnightly trips to the ATM to get my allowance and the phone calls to my father re: sending my allowance a few days early. 

The only items I own at the house in Bacolod are in a box.  Pretty soon, that too will be winging its way to Oz. 

There are two households in my immediate family's now and "we" has been making its presence known more than "I". 

And I am learning to love my new name more and more every day.