December, and the Love That Always Brings Me Home

If there is a word I am asked to associate with December, it is the word “familiar love.” A love so familiar it could bring you home in different places, and a love that is only brought out by the few people you love. I have been thinking of this word lately, slowly grasping the idea with the winding down of the year, and I found out my family is the only one who gives me this familiar feeling. Not even my best friend, not even our pastor. December, as a season, is akin to this love. As the last month of the year, it wraps up the love we have served and received, while memories of it get recollected the whole month. But only those that are “familiar,” may it be joyous or painful, matter enough to pass through our consciousness. December gives us enough time to feel the year that now gradually gets to the end of the calendar, and it gently reminds us of love and experiences we can bring with us in the next few years.

In a year, Christmas is the final act of love. It gathers all the feelings we have had the whole year into one last, powerful expression through giving, forgiveness, generosity, family, and forgetting. It depends on us how we acknowledge these experiences as a final “wrap” and decide whether we will be loving the same people next year, or if we will forget what we experienced and start a new life again. Whether we like it or not, familiar love will have to stay, and the painful ones are bound to disappear in its traces in our lives.

Before we get on that unwritten decision-making, December allows us to feel it all and relive it again, may it be with people we loved, friends who supported us during heartbreaking moments, and even with the very person who broke us. There is enough time this month to remember what happened to you. And you will decide at the end of the day if there would still be a Christmas call with that person next year or none.

Since I am just a silently-working-with-life guy, this year was never a heartbreak for me. Instead, it showed me ways where to heal wounds and where to find the love I deserve and that has been waiting for me all along to accept. I came from a broken family, and at this age, I am with another father. The not-so-original father who brought new life to my mother and us, his sons and daughter, and gave us a love that unexpectedly healed the wounds we had. The familiar love that revived us from a heart attack, and a love so strong it brought the family back into one house just like before they ended. This year, I found care and love in my family, amidst being broken in the first place, and it slowly made the year more meaningful and alive than the past years with my biological father. December, a month that closes the year, is not actually needed, because we have had so much life inside the eleven months and the next months to come.

But it knows our hopes and struggles, that it gives us one more month to heal and feel loved. So last night, as a family who were told to never be real, we walked our way out of our lovely home and visited Bogo City to capture the Christmas spirit and love by spending quality time together and laughing out the joy we have for each other’s lives.

I have shared with you my Christmas opening lights experience this December in the public plaza of the town of Bogo. You can read it here. An experience I will never forget, as it witnessed my very first Christmas experience after 21 years and made me feel December again without restrictions and with just pure appreciation. I was with my closest friends at that time, who added more life to this event in my life. And last night, my family, whom I loved the most beyond myself, was with me.

Visiting this place with my family is a sweet feeling. It reminded me of the best people I have in this life who are always helping me grow, loving me along the way even if we still have a long way to go, and people who witnessed my changes but never judged me. A family that is the lullaby when I sleep and the “go” traffic light sign when I wake up. They are the metaphors of all loving things I have ever encountered, and I say, “I am them.”

It was my father’s birthday last night, and he was in his happiest moment until now. He was also from a broken family, just like Mom, and I have this theory that their brokenness found each other’s pain and healed when they had their hearts attached for us. This man was so brave to love my mother and later us, like his real offspring. We celebrated his birthday last night, although in a simple way, but we made sure it would be memorable. By daytime, we cooked food we would bring to the pantaland of Bogo, where we would have our dinner, and prepared everything, including ourselves, for this relevant day of my father.

By night, we found other families walking around this colorful and Christmassy plaza, which brought life to the season. We had our walk here before having dinner since my eldest brother and his family were still on their way to the place, as they came from Tabogon.

I have seen this plaza before, but I still felt excited like it was my first time visiting it because I was with these important people. I visited this with my family, and the idea of it changed the value I gave to this plaza. It brought a new perspective, a new experience, and a lasting memory before the year ends.

We ate in a pantaland area, where barbecues and tables for eating can be found, which was in turmoil after the earthquake. Around it are traces of the tremors, but amidst being broken, it still provides a safe space for families to spend time together, just like what it was doing before the earthquake. It is so bittersweet to think how some places, while still broken, continue to be places of love and comfort for other people. Brokenness is never in their dictionary, I guess.

We went back to the December plaza before heading home. We spent two hours there to enjoy the moment and experience Christmas fully as a family. It made us excited that Christmas is soon to reach our home’s door, and we are so excited to welcome it. I, too, cannot contain the feeling of excitement I have for Thursday next week, when Christmas says hi to every family and leaves us presents for next year.

In the plaza, I saw perfect and colorful designs, like the fountain of colors located in the center of the plaza, a Christmas tree with big gifts below, Santa Claus and his reindeers where you can ride his sleigh, a village of dazzling Christmas houses believed to remember the earthquake that broke the homes of the people. There was also a candy land installed in the plaza and a night market that offers many foods for visitors.

You might be thinking why we didn’t have a cake for my father. It was reserved for later. When we got home, we lit the cake we bought for him and sang Happy Birthday with full love and care. My siblings and I were shy to greet him first, but Mother said he wanted us to greet him. We are still not close with our father, but we hope to be in the years to come. We are still recovering and trying to fully accept him in our lives. And trust, perhaps. Love is the thing that connects us now, even if we care for him in silence and he does the same for us. Maybe soon, he will be the parent we can share our problems with, which he already is, but we are just still adjusting. I know we are almost there. The love we have received from him is enough to try.

December is making me emotional these days. Everything that happens just makes its way to my emotional heart. It all just makes sense, and I cannot get rid of it without interpreting it. Just like now, as I write this blog. I can feel the love and poignant emotions of the whole year, which I like to experience because it reminds me of being alive and why it is still beautiful to be. I’m grateful to have this family who is my safest place. I’m alive, and next year, we will be navigating life together with courage, familiar love, and understanding.