To the Unborn

He went off the ground, and is now flying in mid-air. He is squeaking and squealing as the other tykes watch him with jealous eyes. He swirls around with my big strong arms as his support. It was like riding an Octopus - in a carnival - except his curved body dips and climbs in an erratic fashion. He gets to be twisted too, like a wrestler does to pacify his opponent and his bent figure becomes a leverage as it see-saws on my shoulders. It was mid-afternoon when I saw him again after mom delivered some notebooks for her charity work. The patch of blue sky speaks of good days, the cool briny air transits along the narrow esqunita where my aunt lives. At seven years old, he was the first among the kids to call me uncle.

But not anymore.

It is an open secret that I love children. I take great pride looking after someone's kid - especially if the kid belongs to a tropa or a chick who once got "involved" with me. My affinity with offsprings extends to single parents as well. At one point, I even lent some cash to a colleague so she could buy milk for her son. During Christmas, I place great care not to miss any gifts to my godchildren. "You will be a kid once" I always say. "Might as well let the inaanaks get presents now than miss the feeling when they grow older."

Once I dreamed having my own family. I really liked to have a son - I could bring to Jollibee or accompany to school or just carry around in my back as we take a stroll in Luneta or Greenbelt or while hanging out with another guy who doesn't mind tagging my kid along. Forget the missus. I never like having a wife. I thought of searching for dads when my Manjam was still up, but most of them are there for their carnal fix. Friends suggest having an adoption, but I don't have money to support another mouth to feed. Besides, I'm not really sure if I will be a good parent. I cannot fix my own life for Christ's sake, how much more with someone I have to look after my whole life?

These thoughts are meant to be forgotten now that fate is assigning new roles to play. Funny how life creates new esquinitas - passages I never thought would exists. For I am bound to carry bigger responsibilities. Roles I may never escape now that the utol has chosen a path none of us believed she would thread at this point in her life.



Utol has a boyfriend.

They have been steady for almost a year.

Our mother is open-minded when it comes to their relationship. The guy even stayed at home and slept in my utol's room whenever it was possible.

We all know what happens when two people stay in one bed. I lived through five years covering up my ex-boyfriend's tracks whenever he stays at home for days at a time. This guilt for past and continuing deeds was what shunned the opposition. It is a fact I bring home boys whenever I get attached. The utol has the same privilege and no matter what I do, contesting her right would only end in futility.



Years from now, some little kid would get off the ground and fly in mid-air, this kid, affirmed by blood and recognized by flesh would squeak and squeal while other tykes watch enviously from a distance. This child would be cared for - more than any other kids I watched over. If higher calling instructs to perform deeds no other guardian would, I have already signed the pact even when no one was around to see.

It will be difficult, I know.

The sacrifices will change how I perceive things.

With the utol still jobless - and reeling from the aftershock; The soon-to-be father squeezing a living from every raket he gets;

With relatives uncertain of dealing with our unpreparedness, and soon-to-be grandparents hopeful that their children will leave the movement to settle down - for good;

I return to that mid-afternoon scene when I found myself wrapping my arms around my aunt's adopted son as he toss and turn around my body; while that patch of blue sky speaks of good days and the cool briny air sifts through the long and lonely passageway where joys and sorrows of a struggling family is a reality.

I will become an uncle, and much as I am caught flatfooted to welcome a new life coming into our home.

Tonight, I formally accept the child's arrival.