A Birthday, and a Herd of Responsibility

Last June 5, my brother Bryan celebrated a big milestone—his 21st birthday. I had planned to make the day special with a little treat: a big cake and some ice cream, maybe even a small excursion. I really wanted to make it memorable for him.

But life had other plans.

The day before, I suddenly felt unwell. Instead of using the money I had saved for Bryan’s celebration, I ended up spending it on a full-body massage, hoping it would help me recover in time. Sadly, that left me with less to give, and my energy was already low.

That evening, my father brought home an expensive bottle of alcohol, planning to enjoy it with the family. My cousin—who was supposed to be attending to my cows—also joined in on the celebration. We just slaughtered five chickens.

By 5:00 p.m., I kept urging him, “Manong, please check the cows—they’re on the cliff, it’s dangerous.” But he ignored my concern.

My brother Aivan had come home to celebrate with his wife and their two daughters. I didn’t stay home—I had to secure my pets. I’ve invested so much in them, and their safety means everything to me.

At 7:00 p.m., despite the rain showers and still sore from the massage, I got up and went myself.

I got drenched but reached the cows just in time. They're hungry too because they were entangled with bushes. I let them graze for a while. (Good thing I got a very bright flashlight, my uncle's tool during on board. He's a ship captain.)

One of them, Budangdang, was heavily pregnant and showing signs of stress. She needed to lie down and rest. I made sure she was safe and calm for the night.

As I'm writing this, Budangdang gave birth already. I named him Elmo.

I saw a small bird resting at the branch of guava tree and it's so cute.

I stayed a bit longer to cook food for the dogs and prepare the early morning ration for the pigs and chickens—sliced and cooked banana stalks, the usual. I left around 7:00 p.m. and returned home at 10:00 p.m.

The next morning, my whole body ached—probably from the combination of the cold night dew, the rain, and the intense massage. Thankfully, my cousin who works in Boracay and was home on vacation offered to drive me and our younger maternal cousins to the beach. I soaked my sore body in the warm saltwater for 45 minutes. I didn’t even rinse off afterward—I figured the salt might help ease the muscle pain.

Later that day, we gathered for Bryan’s birthday lunch. Dad led a heartfelt prayer filled with blessings for him.

The meal was peaceful, but right after lunch, the drinking resumed. Not a fan of drunken company, I quietly slipped away and spent the night at the farm hut. Even with all the mosquitoes, I preferred that over enduring the noise and energy of intoxicated people.

That's it. Photos are all mine, Studio Ghibli style is edited by ChatGPT.

Thanks for reading.☺️