Breakfast for Two

As a little kid, everything may seem perfect. Removing the wrapper of a lollipop or a candy was already considered a major challenge. Every year that I blow an additional candle on my cake, I’m starting to doubt if blowing these candles will make my wish come true. As a young boy, you would always, always look up to your father as your inspiration in everything. His manliness, the way he handles situations, the secret pick-up lines and stories about women that he would only divulge to me while he drinks beer and I drink milk, the logical ways he solves things, and the way he takes care of my mother.

As a kid, I also began to set standards for the girl I would like to be romantically involved with in the future. I would make my mother as my reference when I look for girls at school. As I become a teen, it seemed like I put a wall between us, maybe because that’s the way it works for teen boys and their mothers. Little did I know that this wall I built also prevented me in seeing that she is having the worst days of her life. This wall protected my privacy as a young man, but it also isolated me to the pains and the slow drifting apart of the family.

I thought that everything is normal, that it is normal for adults to argue on things. I was right, arguments were normal, but the actions and decisions that come with it are called choices. From my wall, I made a little hole where I can peep everytime they would argue. That’s the time I see my parents differently, that’s the time innocence slowly went to the other world. I knew right there, something was wrong. Like a volcano that’s soon to erupt, I was just waiting for the lava to flow. Then one day, I woke up and nothing was the same. The breakfast table was set for only two; the house was silent except for the unspoken feelings of my mother. I cannot muster my courage to ask her, why it’s just the two of us for breakfast.

But mothers always know how to do it; she said that in order to grow and find what’s best, sometimes falling apart must happen. I felt like crying as memories of my childhood came flashing back, the thought that they will not happen again. But at the same time, a strange feeling of relief dawned upon me. All those pains my mother endured, all those harsh words and physical pain I experienced from him are all gone. My mom said that it is a mutual agreement between them to separate for an indefinite period of time. It will be just the two of us for now.

If there’s one thing I picked up from their separation, it’s the value of knowing what you want and when to end something that is already more harm than good for you. Maybe, we’re one of those modern families but it does not make us less of a family. He may be up there in the North, rearranging his life or maybe building another life but to me he will always be the man who has given me a manual in life no matter what I endured from him. And to my mother, it may be just the two of us for breakfast but it will always be my reason to look forward every morning.