Monday, September 8, 2008

Another Day and Yet Another Birthday


We both woke up during that “darkest hour before dawn” on Sept. 6, but I beat him to the toilet. When I stumbled past him as he took his turn to pee, I embraced him awkwardly, said, “Happy birthday”, climbed back to the bed and promptly fell asleep again.

When my daughter and I woke up, the sun was high, and he was calling us down for breakfast. Robert and his young family were there to wish our old man a happy 58. They brought tinapa and longganisang Lucena. We had been craving for those for months already so the stash was put away in the fridge. Instead, we breakfasted on champorado, fried saba and Benguet coffee, all prepared by the birthday boy.

Not even the New York Yankees losing to the Seattle Mariners could dampen his upbeat mood. I wasn’t about to ruin it by asking if I could leave earlier for Camp John Hay as somebody was waiting for me. That somebody had to give up on me.

And so we let him have his way the whole weekend. Drink beer even if his sugar was unstable. Work even if he was entitled to a birthday leave. Prepare lunch from salad to main course.

Why, at the rate everything was going, it was like a typical day/weekend in the life of one Rolando Fernandez. Fuzzy photo by BABETH

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