Splash

I was hearing mass outside eco-inspired Greenbelt chapel when, suddenly, in the middle of the sermon, a heard a collective gasp from the crowd followed by a resounding splash.  And as I glanced to my left, there was a child of about 4 years old bobbing and flailing by the edge of the fish pond, gasping for air. Not long after, Ayala security guards and a harried-looking mother rushed to the edge of the pond fishing this poor kid out of her water bogged accident.

You could sense most of the church-goers stare at this poor, soggy child bawling out her stress over her near death experience.  She looked overwhelmed and in shock from this embarrassing accident that resulted from a harmless frolic by the fishpond.  Amusing to me is the reaction of mothers who turned to their own kid in unison, finger pointed, as if to say silently: “See what will happen to you if you don’t listen to me!”  And as if to respond to this wordless warning, the kids that witnessed this accident looked chastened.

Honestly, I did not feel sympathy for the parent because, obviously, letting a kid cavort by jagged, slippery rock formations equals a possible mishap.  On the other hand, as a parent, you probably can’t teach every minute lesson in life to your child, including the ability to decide whether the situation is an accident waiting to happen.  (Yes, even at age five, kids nowadays have the maturity to know these things better – it’s just a question of allowing their curiosity to get the better of them).

There is no handbook for right choices that guarantee an accident-free life and what probably might result in wisdom is stunted if children were too sheltered or cosseted from getting dirty or injured.  What piqued me is the tension every parent faces between allowing their children to make the wrong choices or simply telling them what you know to be right. After all, parents are appointed with the responsibility to ensure a happy and secure life for their children. But, where do you draw the line between holding on and letting go?  When should you tell your children: “Get out of there, can’t you see there are piranhas in the water?” or “Go ahead, and see if it’s safe for you to take a dip.”
I can’t pretend to know the answers and certainly, I have no doubt that there is a cut and dry formula to this parenting challenge.  But I can certainly see how kids brought up with a certain amount of liberty can turn out to be confident, and information seeking adults.  My best friend would tell me that growing up they were allowed to explore areas as children, unsupervised which I would have been followed undodgedly by my own yaya.  But here is the thing, once a child is provided this sense of freedom to explore, without the nagging, worried voice of the parent, they are taught that the world is theirs to conquer and they must learn to rely on their own judgement in evaluating situations that they get into. It is a delicate balance of freedom and choice at an early age, but I think, one worth every scrape, and splash.

(written in March 2009)

having a moment

When I was old enough to comprehend what a career meant, I wanted to become a writer. Growing up, I devoured books over the summer when I had time to read as much as I could.  I wanted to be a master storyteller and paint amazing worlds and craft awe inspiring scenes that would make my readers laugh, tremble and gasp in excitement.  Only later on did I realize that being a writer (of fiction) took up much more creativity than my brain may actually manage. Sad, but one does have to face reality sometimes. (insert carefree shrug)

Then, I realized why let it stop me, for there must be infinite topics to write about. And it hit me: why should I look for material when I’m already immersed in a wealth of material,both comical and dramatic? It would certainly pique any reader and for sure will leave them with a warm fuzzy feeling after. It hit me: my family, which my friends know I refer to as Addams, is the perfect subject of this project!

There are privacy issues of course, and unless I cloak my name under an alias would I only be able to freely narrate this reality-based story.  It dawned on my that my situation is quite unique and compelling, (as one will later find out in my story) and there are lessons in it worth telling and sharing to others.  So while that children’s story book is still shelved in the inactive part of my brain, I will strive to work on this story.  As I think about it now, there are some memories here and there that defy fiction and make the truth sound stranger than – well, fiction!

Wish me luck!