“Gold Necklace” by Charlene S

Bing. “We are now ready for taking off”, the pilot said. I took a breath and closed my eyes as the lights dimmed down. For the first time after a while, I decided to leave behind the stress that was pulling me away from people who could not continue holding my hand for a while. The stitches that failed to piece me back together will be forgotten in a letter that may never be read.  Silently, I prayed that being 7,000 miles away from mental chaos will help me find my lost souls and I drifted into slumber. 15 hours later, I opened my eyes under the night sky of a different set of invisible constellations. It was December 23rd, 2017 in the U.S. but in Manila, Philippines, it was already Christmas Eve, 23:11.

My heart dropped as the door of the van opened to Lipa City, Philippines. Light rushed in through the opening and reached my dark corner. A few steps out and I'm already bombarded with unfamiliar faces I’ve seen from Facebook happily greeting me at the same time. Nervously, I smiled and spoke my greetings. Hola. I wanted to make a good impression but I guess I was so awkward that I ended up speaking in Spanish. It was one of those cases that ended up happening with no coherent reason. Regardless, they all laughed with me and they guided us into their gray, small house that had family history written all over. Up the creaky stairs, I was able to give the best Christmas surprise for my Lola and hold her tight in my puffy jacket. If it weren’t for her visiting the U.S. 2 years ago with an inability to speak English, I probably would not have attempted learning Tagalog nor embrace my accent. The night ended pleasantly as I was able to connect with cousins I barely met with my American-Tagalog tied tongue. Fortunately, Jet lag lost the battle to my physical exhaustion. I drifted away in a deep slumber with a feeling of sunbeams warming up my winter.

Three days had passed and I was already amazed by my cousins’ simple lifestyles. Celebrating Christmas with them became one of the liveliest I’ve had in years. The Tagalog phrases I exchanged with my relatives was not been grammatically correct nor was their English perfect. However, every time we laugh over our inside jokes, tell stories or embrace when departing, we would always forget about our different tongues. Unfortunately, right after Christmas, I woke up with sweaty, burning hands and a voiceless body with throbbing pains from my head to my throat. The pain led me to an emergency bed under the sick scent of blood, sweat, and germs behind the green curtains. It was disappointing having a throat infection in the wrong place and the wrong time out of all the other days I could've been sick. However, the disgusting antibiotics did not barricade my enjoyment there. 

The adventures I had with my cousins from one province to another was unforgettable. They helped me realize that there was more to just waking up with bug bites and smelling the polluted air under the humidity with bathroom inconvenience. On New Year's Eve, we visited the farm of trees and land that illustrated the colors of my dad's childhood. We had a long walk under the shade of palm trees and encountered dangerous dogs and friendly neighbors. With my left black converse shoe slightly covered with dry mud, I ran up the hill of tall grass. Ahead of me, I saw the view of the mountain’s faded outlines as the sunlight touched the light-green sea of nature below it. Seeing a whole different painting I would never see back here left my jaw dropping in bittersweet admiration. If only I was given more time.

Serene clear, blue water of Coron, Palawan, Views of quiet volcanoes of Tagaytay and crowded mall trips at SM reached the final page of the book. It came in a flash and every moment increased my anxiety as each grain of sand in the hourglass fell to the bottom. The gold necklace they gave me as a goodbye gift continued to link every moment I have with them so I wouldn’t forget. As every last picture gets taken, my eyes slowly began to sweat tears that eventually released a waterfall as I saw my relatives beginning to cry. I could barely breathe in my own ocean of tears and I hugged each of them, thinking that they are going to disappear once I let go. I found myself under a group hug and I for once didn’t mind the scent of their sweat that kept making me cry even more. Before I know it, I was in the van waving at them as the door closed.

The fresh canvases I painted in my head overpowered the monotone colors of my art gallery once again. Despite that it was quite painful to leave right when the roots of our foundation deepened, the memories I had with them continues to motivate me to persevere and maintain my optimistic personality no matter the difficulty. Until now, I continue to wear the golden necklace that had me promise to wear most of the time as a reminder of my family back home.