Memories

My great grandmother, Maria Cenizal Arvisu.

She was a business woman in Tanza, Cavite.

I have enrolled in a few Early Childhood Education and Child Development courses for the upcoming school year. I am looking forward to establishing my teaching career, and getting my life back on track.

For the first time in eight years, I am on my own, with no empty promises to keep me waiting. I am slowly rediscovering my inner strength. My inner strength comes from the women in my family. They were, and are, all incredibly strong, and phenomenal women in their own right. They were all ahead of their time, and were everything but ordinary. The talk stories about their lives and experiences, inspire my own life. I know my family history and the values and traditions that have been passed on to me with great care, love, and respect.

I am eager to end the summer season, as I previously stated. Can you blame me? I am excited to see what fate, destiny, and karma have in store for me. Yes, I said karma. I have exhausted my karma from a previous life, and I am eager for what blessings she has in store for me.

I am empowered by my experiences in life, most especially by the bad ones. However, I know that it will take me some time to get over the mess Voltaire has left me with. I am still having a few bad days, but only when memories get the best of me.

Like, when I recently found an engagement picture of us that I forgot to include in his things. I thought I had erased any and every memory of him from my life. I looked at it for a while, trying to analyze the picture, the memory. I was trying to remember if there was any doubt in how much he showed me, that he loved me, when we were taking that picture, or during the course of that day. Was it all really too good to be true? I think that I was completely blinded by my love for him and my trust, that even if he was showing any signs of doubt or falling out of love with me, I wouldn't have ever noticed.

Memories have a tendency to sneak up on me when I least expect it. In my case, the good memories hurt more than the bad ones. It breaks my heart more to think of the good times Voltaire and I had. But I don't want to get stuck in the past, so all I can do is accept them for what they are, recognize the lessons in those memories, and move on with my life.

So I've picked up the pieces, but I haven't glued them back together. That takes time, and a lot of healing. My ancestors come to me in my dreams to give me peace and strength. I wake up everyday thinking of them. I think of their experiences, and in comparison, what has happened to me in my young life doesn't even compare. They survived so much worse than a broken heart. They come to me in my dreams to remind me of who I am, where I came from, and what strength I have within.

My family, friends, and community are all reflections of how I was raised. I see traces of my ancestors, my family, in everything that I do and all that I am. I was molded by their stories, memories, and experiences.

I am a Fojas woman. I will overcome and perservere in time. I'm not worried, because I know that everything will be better in time.