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Splinter of the Mind's Eye

When my grandmother was born, at least according to her, she could hear the bells ringing over at the local church.

The exact moment she passed away was at around six in the morning, wherein the local bells were also ringing, waking the people up for the early morning Angelus.

It's six in the morning as I type this entry. Whenever I'm fully functional and awake at this time of the day, I can't help but remember my grandmother, and the dreams I had of her months, then weeks before, and the days after she died. I miss her candidness sometimes, her laid-back attitude and ready, winsome smile that everybody loved. But most of all, what I do miss is her piano playing - not that I'd want to hear her playing now, because that'd be freaky as hell, but she once told me that it used to be part of her morning exercise, to stretch out on the piano and noodle a bit with the keys. She was inseparable from the piano. It was her opinion that she didn't need a house; all she needed was a baby grand piano that she could sleep on.

My grandmother's ideal house

Don't you ever wish that you lived at a simpler time? I remember back in my childhood, whenever the rainy season came about and the storms started visiting Manila for a week or so, I'd be so excited that I wouldn't mind waking up in the morning since I knew that I'd wake up to the beautiful sensation of freezing sheets (a rarity in Manila), hot chocolate, awesome winds, and flooded streets that, if you didn't need to go out - and what kid did, during a storm? - were the greatest toys you could ever hope to find at your doorstep, literally. I'd pester one of my siblings into making a paper boat for me, and I'd sit at the porch, watching the said boat swim around in the water until the novelty wore off. And then I'd just go find something else to do, like draw (at which I sucked rather badly) or read.

Today, there's a storm raging outside. I told off one of the housekeepers (the dumber one) just a couple of minutes ago since the daft woman opened the windows, letting the storm wreak havoc and pandemonium on anything that wasn't at least five pounds heavy. Then I went up to my computer and started typing this entry. Maybe later, I'll play some PSP. Then I'll work out. Go to mass. Spend time with the folks, and maybe watch a movie with them. Maybe talk to some friends. If I'm lucky, I'll get to write a bit. And once evening comes, I'll have to start preparing for the next day, since work becomes such a big part of your life once you're older.

Someday, I'll have kids who will do everything that I used to do as a kid, and I will watch them, and be content. No matter how many things I may have to do on that day. And when that day comes, I know I can die happy.

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