A Story of a Love to Remember

James Z. Carpio, writer

Hey!

My name is James. Everyone calls me by that name. 

My Papa called me Jim and my Mama called me Jimbo. One brother of mine calls me Semaj. 

Wait, let me tell you about one brother who calls me by myriad names. He calls me Hermenegi. Hermenehoho. You get the drift, right? My I.D. actually says the first one because it would not fit on the card.

Let me ask you this. What's in a name?

It's just a name.

For the deaf it doesn't matter at all.

For the mute they would not be able to voice out my name.

Anyway, there are millions of Jameses in the world.

Each of us are special. From research the chances of us being born is one in a Trillion. 

I was not meant to be born. The plan was just to have a dozen children. That's it. Nothing more and nothing less.

But, since God perhaps thought that my father and my mother did a pretty great job of raising 12 children they were blessed by a bonus.

That would be little old me.

As the story goes my mother was advised by the doctor not to have any more children after me. Well, she prayed to God to have a baby brother for little old me.

Then, the Christmas bonus was born.

It is tough to have a younger brother. Yes.

There was one time that I was inside the house and I thought he was outside playing. I heard a knock on the door and a strange man said, "This is a holdup!" I immediately shut the door and hurriedly climbed the stairs. Then, in our room I remembered my younger brother. I kept yelling his name a lot. Probably a hundred times. And excuse me, but I was also crying that time. My imagination went haywire. What if that man did something to my brother.

Then, I heard a knock on the door again. I asked who it was. It was my mother. And then I saw my brother with her. I heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God. They went to the city center together.

I thank God for my parents, my siblings, and my friends. 

Now, I think about what I had written. Pops would have been proud.

I became who I am now because of my family and friends.

Naturally shy, I think that I am just a better actor than everyone else. I am magnetized by positive people. And, nothing disturbs me anymore.

Why?

Because I was imprisoned twice.

It was a communal shower and toilet area for us, men.

Let me rephrase that first line. I did not commit any crime rather for medical reasons.

I met interesting people. I met family members of other patients.

Then, my brother visited me. He told me I looked just like my other brother who had a stroke. He indignantly wanted me out of there.

It's funny though because I made friends with a mother of a patient and she asked me to stay.

Well, with my odd sense of humor, I told myself I could survive there and be joyful.

Just like in the movies, our food was in a tray. No utensils. I ate with my hands. And, the place smelled like human excrement.

It didn't matter.

What mattered was the empathy and compassion between my tribe.

I left on the day of my birthday. 

It was poignant. The mother whom I had helped gave me a loving embrace.

Now, I think about her. She's old. And, she has to take care of her son.

I can fend for myself. I can even make other people happy. Like last New Year's, I wanted to make our eldest happy. So, being the "MacGyver and Duncan MacLeod" that I am, I followed up, followed through, and pulled through. Being, methodical and logistically prepared, all the plans were a success. Well, my older brother to his chagrin was disappointed.

Daig ng maagap ang masikap or Carpe Diem!

Each day we have to be reminded why we are here on Earth. First and foremost because the God of Love created us.

That is the story of a love to remember.

Each one of us is loved.

All.