Every morning, I follow a few morning rituals before going out to another work day. My ritual includes sitting down to breakfast, having my first mug of coffee, lighting my first cigarette, munching on a few pieces of pandesal, staring at nothing and thinking of nothing in particular while waiting for my brain to boot. Twenty minutes later, I kiss my nanay after hurriedly gulping down my second mug of coffee and she calls out things I may have forgotten. This morning, I was halfway out of the house with Larc~en~ciel screaming Ready, Steady, Go into my eardrums when I did a double take.
My mom said, “Wallet, Cellphone.” I patted the pockets containing the things in question and narrowly missed the last reminder as I was closing the door: James. I removed one earphone. “Ano po yun?” “Si James baka nakalimutan mo.”
This is James, on upper left corner is a deeply profound message: He is happy that thinks himself so. Peace makes plenty.
James Dean, the cigarette case. He’s been my constant companion to out of town trips, to the various offices I’ve been to since 2007, and apparently, I’ve grown so attached to him – fine, it – that my own mother thinks I shouldn’t leave home without it.
It’s been with me to Lobo (several times), to Baguio, to Zambales, to Vigan, and to Bulacan (where it camouflages as a coin case).
I know there’s a lesson in there somewhere, but right now I haven’t quite figured it out. Let’s hope it’s not lost on me completely.
Astig ka, Nay.
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