How do you describe the feeling? The air was different. It was like the first whiff of air that expanded my lungs. Strange because I wasn’t born there. Perhaps by extension, since my greatgrandparents inhabited the area.
The jeepney passed by the quaint countryside dotted by ricefields that momentarily pacified my nomadic spirit.
I wondered about my grandfather’s parents who breathed the same air and passed by these spots. What were they like?
I made some inquiries that led to some rundown houses. I was almost sure they were from the same family tree because despite all the progress around them, they would not tear down their ancestral homes. Some built new structures but left the main part of the house intact, for all its worth.
I felt a kinship with them, they who value what others see as mere ruins, unmistakably harboring a deep respect for their loved ones who graced that house and lent color to our past.
“Magandang araw po. I have come to reconnect. I wish I had known you more intimately. You have such a lovely home.”
For a tantalizing moment, I could almost see my graceful, gentle ancestors.