it was just an ordinary night that had me sitting on the edge of my seat come nightfall.  the hubby and i attended a regular socials hosted by the office.  it was good, simple fun.  there was an acoustic duo belting out songs, food and a “talent show”, and we were entertained as usual by the antics of wonderful gay friends.  i always say that i’m getting too old for these kinds of things, and that i prefer going home early or staying at home with mischa when events like these come up.  but i did try to enjoy myself.  until i decided to go to the washroom, and saw that, beyond the loud music, rain was pouring down real HARD outside.  we were so engrossed that we didn’t hear it beating on the street.  it must have been like that for quite a while because flood was starting to build up on the sidewalks.  at that point, i began to get worried about mischa (don’t i always?).  after floods seeped inside our home last september during the ondoy tragedy, my immediate thought was it could happen again.  at any time.  so how would the household cope without us there?  then i received text messages from the yaya, and was informed that the creek surrounding the perimeter of our subdvision was starting to overflow.  water was coming to the basketball court which was 5 meters from our house.  and at that point, my panic button was pressed.  the rains did not cease after a couple of minutes watching it.  the prudent thing to actually do was stay put for a while, and let nature takes its course.  it’s gotta stop somehow.  i know deep in my heart that we could get stuck on the road, tumirik (in the vernacular), drop into open drainage systems, get stranded because we all know how floods could literally stop life in metro manila.  but i couldn’t sit still.  i was bugging hubby that we go home straightaway, panic slowly rising up my throat.  i could’ve have a heart attack at that moment, all i could think about was mischa, mischa, mischa!  i couldn’t help it.  and then i realized, i was more traumatized that i ever admitted.  that event left a deep mark, which i haven’t even noticed all these months.  i seemed to have kept my cool back then.  i had no choice, i had to.  while hubby and the neighbors were busy trying to bring things up, like the tv, books, food, the gas range (imagine how much adrenaline pumped through our veins), i had to be calm and attend to my 3-month old kid who didn’t have a care in the world except her milk, poop and sleep.   i, on the other hand, continuously went back and forth between the bed where she was stationed and the window where i watched helplessly as the water rose in the street in front of us until waist level.  it seemed never ending.  back to the present, in that instant (friday night), i was again helpless because i was so far from mischa.  the difference was that, she was more malikot and curious now, and god only knows what kind of antics she would be up to once put in the same situation again.  and this time, we were not there, instead we were still kilometers away on the road, trying to navigate the water-infested streets of manila, quezon city, san juan and pasig en route to taytay, rizal amidst other vehicles of all shapes and sizes.  i also wondered, if it came to the worst, how our two companions would save mischa if need be?  the answer maybe too gruesome to think about.  it is too much to expect others to lay on the line their lives for one tiny baby.  selfish as it may sound, i don’t know if i would for some other kid.  after all, isn’t it usually a game of survival?  i wouldn’t want to die because i cannot bear the thought of mischa being left alone in this world at such a young age.  how then could i possibly expect others to give up their lives for somebody not really related to them.  i know it was only i and hubby who would risk lives for her.  thus, my absolute panic, which thankfully i was able to control.  thank god i didn’t even cry, even though it was the very thing i wanted to do.  i hope i’m never put in this situation again, which i know of course is quite impossible as we just entered the rainy season.  the least i could hope for, i guess, is that we’re all home safe and sound each time a storm visits us.  more importantly, that we’re all together.  on the more practical side, maybe (just maybe), we could start scouting for places near work.  i don’t know if we could afford the extra expenses since we save a lot by watching house for hubby’s sister’s family, but i guess it would give us a whole lot of peace of mind knowing mischa is just a stone’s throw away.

One thought on “trauma

  1. Pingback: basyang and the blackout « a crazy mom's world

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