It’s less than two weeks before Christmas, and our entire compound is bare. All of the four houses in it are devoid of decorations. This makes me miss my grandparents.
I remember how Tatay would have a star put up near the peak of the roof of the main house, with trellis of lights cascading to the terrace. It was a greeting that spoke for itself every time you’d arrive at the gate. He’d have a play house set up beside a carefully arranged Nativity set and us cousins would spend early mornings camped out there, fascinated by our foggy breaths. Nanay would have the pillows fluffed and some freshly laundered curtains hung. They will have bags of candy ready for us on Christmas morning, and when we got too old for candies, they’d reward us with money after we make a show of our talents during our annual family Christmas Party.
It wasn’t too long ago when we got too old even for that, was it?
Now the main house is empty. Now we have gotten less.
I realized that my grandparents were very good at maintaining traditions, and my parents are not.
We are about to welcome parenthood in a couple of months, and today I think about all the traditions we will make, and give all our hearts to keep. I can’t wait.