We went to pick up our daughter from her friend’s house in Quezon City earlier tonight.
On the way there, we passed by Gilmore St., just after crossing Santolan from Ortigas. For those familiar with this route, every Christmas time, which in Manila begins with the “BER” months, stalls miraculously pop up along both sides of the road and parols of all shapes, sizes, colors and twinkling lights light up the night on this stretch.
As we passed this place tonight, I couldn’t help but stare at the wonderful spectacle of all those parols grouped in long rows along the road. There were Christmas trees, mother-of-pearl star-shaped ones, round parols with religious designs, Santas, reindeer, etc. If not for my tired husband who was in a hurry to pick up our daughter, I so wanted to stop and admire each one of those parols, touch them, see how the lights blink on and off. For some unexplainable reason, the hypnotic effect of the blinking lights had a very therapeutic, calming effect on me as we drove by.
This is the time of year I really love. The Christmas spirit and anticipation of the cool weather about to descend upon Manila; thoughts of family reunions; Chinese ham, fruit cake and noche buena; putting up the Christmas tree & hanging the long stockings of the kids along our landing — oh, so many more traditions that I loved as a child and continue to look forward to, year after year.
And it was tonight’s display of lighted parols that wafted all these memories of Christmases past into my consciousness. I felt a tug of nostalgia knowing that my Dad is no longer around to celebrate with us. But it also made me want to ensure that such Christmases become wonderful memories for my own kids so that when they reach my age, they can look back fondly on these years and continue our warm, family traditions for their own children.