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Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Bustamante: My only New Year's resolution
By Bibs M. Bustamante
In Contemplation
ALMOST everybody has a New Year's resolution or two. I am no exception. I have to have at least one in order to gauge myself at the end of 2006 on what direction my life should have been going, and what I should have done during the year.
Others had one too many new years resolution every year. At the beginning of 2005, one of my friends vowed to change his ways to be able to mingle with others amiably. Another acquaintance had the most doable New Year's resolution, that is to never again be late for work.
I read some of the writers of newspaper resolved to lose some weights and be healthy in the process. All of them failed. My friend had not changed a bit in his ways. The other always comes late to work. The writer, I saw recently, is getting bigger.
I forgot what my New Year's resolution was. But it had to do with doing something for my betterment. Well I suppose I had just blurted the most convenient excuse for failing to better myself, forgetting my New Year's resolution, that is.
I have to have a New Year's resolution for the year 2006 that I should never forget on yearend. Looking back I felt I lacked the drive in almost all that I was doing because I ignored the flowers.
That's it. My New Year's resolution then is to return back to my old passion--to love the flowers. Flowers used to invigorate me. I noticed that during those times that I kept on loving the flowers, all good things happened for me.
In those times that flowers in the backyard were few, I cultivated and tendered a single slump of dancing ladies. I woke up early and habitually watered the dangling bouquet of healthy dancing lady flower plants.
Of course I watered the rest of the potted ornamental plants littered on the backyard which could take me almost one-half hour to finish. Then I still had spare time to pick the seeds of the Indian trees, which I then put individually to the seed bags with fertile soils for the seeds to germinate.
In a week's time I could gather thousands of Indian tree seeds out of the excretions of the bats eating the seeds of the Indian trees surrounding our house. From out of the four Indian trees I planted in 1993, now, the backyard has twenty full-grown Indian trees more or less. The other seedlings are with the neighbors planted in the neighborhood and the neighbors' farms.
In all those morning efforts, I was always sweating before taking my bath and breakfast. Then, I still have enough time to send the children to school after sending their mother to work. The term they call a father sending children to school is that he is a school bus.
I remember, out of those morning rituals, I used to harvest from our backyard in due time, some radish, squash, ampalaya, papaya, okra, pepper, malunggay and eggplants. Now we only harvest young coconuts for buko salad, and the sweet balimbings mostly for the consumption of the kids including the neighbors.
The high spirit of waking up early and accomplishing so much at the start of the day, always push my energy efficiently during my day-job. Appearances in courts, making pleadings, advising the clients, writing correspondences, were just a breeze, with still plenty of time to make in article or two before the day is over. And my health was at its peak. My office was filled with blooming dancing ladies and green ornamental plants.
Now I wonder how come that during the year 2005, I could not seem to notice the flowers anymore. Perhaps I was just too busy engaging in the rat race. My priorities may have changed and the love of flowers is relegated to the last of my list. The flower vases in my office are empty. The plants are withering. The wife reports to work not on time. The kids come late to school. It was so hard to wake up early in the morning. Now I know what I missed.
I missed my contribution to balanced ecology and environmental care. I missed the morning sweat and the peak of health. I missed eating radish, eggplant and okra salads and I missed sipping malunggay soup laden with native chicken meat. I missed the flowers in my office. And I missed the neighbors taking the seedlings of the Indian trees, the trees where the bats sojourn and where they are playing from dusk to dawn. Love the flowers--that is my New Year's resolution.
For Bisaya stories from Davao. Click here. (December 27, 2005 issue)
Write letter to the editor.Click here.
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