To my dearest shooting star,
Last 2008 i decided to celebrate my birthday in my house. It was my silver birthday party, and it was also the first time your mom and dad ever went to my house to celebrate my party. when they got there, i told your mom that we should start drinking and hang around. she said, it could wait.
they were there pretty early (as expected) and i wasn’t even prepared for my own birthday party (as expected) since it was THAT early. your mom went inside my room and she watched me prepare. i told her she could smoke inside my room, and she told me that she quit smoking already. i immediately stopped and asked her.
“since when?”, i inquired.
“since this morning.”, she replied.
now, you must know this early on that your mom is never a quitter. she never gives up on things she firmly believes in or dearly loves and so i knew there was only one reason why she would have done such a big sacrifice. she was having you.
and from that moment on, as early as you were still a little dot growing inside her, we knew it would change our lives forever.
i was with your mom and dad the night before you came out. everyone was excited because we knew that you were already coming. but you were such a steady kid. you wouldn’t come out until you were ready. never mind that we were becoming impatient, you knew when you wanted to get out.
and true enough, that morning, i received a text from your mom that you were on your way. of all the days i didn’t charge my phone, it had to be that day. i remember speeding through edsa in the rain thinking, “i can’t be late for this one.” traffic, rain, i even got lost – baaah. but that’s another story to tell. maybe when you get a bit older.
just so you know the ending, i made it just in time to see you get cleaned up by the nurses. you were so small and fragile. everyone was there to see you – family and friends alike. and your dad – well – the only time i’ve seen him that happy and proud was when he was watching your mom go down the aisle as they got married. and that would be another beautiful story to tell you.
i feel bad that i don’t get to visit you as often as i want. weird kasi ang schedule ko. but at the rare times that i get to visit you, thank you for warming up to me as fast as you can. you’re such a replica of your mother. defensive at first, but the moment you warm up to the person, you could knock them off your charms. and that adorable smile that you got – that’s from your dad. i hope you get his sense of humor.
and since time flies when your having so much fun, before i knew it, your mom was texting me, calling me, reminding me not to be late for your first birthday party.
your party was wonderful. you had a dr. seuss theme, since you like reading dr. seuss books. cupcakes from aggy’s were so yummy, and kiddos around your age that i’m pretty sure you’d end up being friends with just because it’s such a tight bunch. you were such a star. everyone wanted to take a picture of you, to hold you, to kiss you, or just to let you feel that you’re so loved by everyone. i’m pretty sure that during your birthday party, you had no idea what was going around. but know this – that by just being you, all adorable and curious you, you bring so much joy and hope for those who love you so dearly. and that’s a lot to mention. i can probably name 20 right off my head. you are so lucky to be enveloped by such warmth and appreciation. so never, ever feel that you are not loved.
i write my letters spontaneously, occasionally stopping to fix a spelling or two, and so far, i still have no concrete message for you. all i know is that one day when you’re older, i would be able to sit down with you and tell you all the adventures we’ve had. we’ve just started the book, my smellie bellie. chapter one begins.
i love you my shooting star. always. always.