A Wheeled Cart’s Load of Hope

Ice scramble  cooled and numbed my tongue, and usual brain freeze as I laughingly enjoyed it, scattering some bubbly ice around my lips every 3:00 in the afternoon. That’s how I remember chatting with Ate Gorie Andal. From the latest gossip of Manlayo and anything funny inside our little quaint barrio, no offense to topics we made those years, it is just all plain funny side of life, nothing too personal. The brewing love matching of Jimmy and Mely seems like box load of fun to me. Stories of fate and how we passed a lazy afternoon every Sunday, how her no idle hands can keep up with her stories every time I pass by her little cart are all returned to me.

No quip, I am one of her favorite adopted sons to chat with anything but full anecdotes of little side of lies what my kababaryo has. My plans for my future and sometimes her stories about how she wanted her children to grow up and make them to finish college. Probably more than my sisters, the “crushes” I had those years she had the only one with knowledge of those. It makes me laugh how she described some crushes I got and reveal to me things I haven’t notice beyond my infatuations and so it quickly died up, and never to look the same way to girls I had crushed on. Perhaps I know now how she rejected some of my type she protected me. It makes me think how she will disgust what happened to my love life today.

Early morning every time I left with my bags those days, I had her wave, her advice and teasing word of “Pasalubong ko pagbalik” . It’s a long semester and grueling studies and then a warm of summer greeted me with a peek thru grilled wires of manual Ice crusher as she was holding the tin pail of ice scramble as I passed in returning home. She had to pause a little and hand me her right hand for the kiss of “Mano po”. Then I left the wheeled cart with her terse word of “Kuwentuhan tayo mamaya!”.

As I nod and look over the wheeled cart, it seems newly painted and I ask(Bagong pintura ah?) “Oo” she retorted. That little cart, where she took all the things to sustain her college students some were studying in Manila and some at nearby town. It is smaller than 4 square meter sustaining a truck load of hope. She was successful and making her early children I know of to finish college. 1994 was the last time I saw her. That day I was making fun of her newly painted cart, and marking of her glasses for serving ice scramble, she painted all the bottom of glasses with same color of pink ice scramble. It makes me tapped the bottom after I quaffed it hurriedly , that I thought there was still remaining milky shakes at the bottom not knowing it was the last of it. The paint looks there’s still some at the bottom. She said it was Kuya Sergios’ idea, her grayed hair husband twice as funny as her. Oh I love this couple when telling synchronized jokes, it always hooked me.

Social network sometimes aid you happiness and bitterness both swirling together. I was sad watching the stream of video shared by her daughter Ate Bebeth who is my good friend also. From then on I had her in my prayers. The stroked she suffered, slurred and no way could I imagine she will experience the same fate of most tragic death of people with this sad condition. I was sorry for I never made my promises to talk to you. I have lot of stories and questions maybe you could help me with.

Do you know that  sometimes I went home to Manlayo and seeing your wheeled cart as my hope? You may be not standing there, but those advices were flowing to my head. I wish I have seen you before you departed. I hope your wishes for your children happened. I hope the moment we never talk you talked about me with them. Somehow I am happy that I never talked to you, I don’t want you to get disappointed. Kids like me those days, Jerry Requiron, Arnel Pura, Alvin Torres, Jerry Estenzo I am sure there were so thankful to have you as our “kakwentuhan” those days. It is all kept in here. You will be okay I’m sure, up there, May you rest in peace.