massage failed

the moon was persistent in painting the light-deprived streets of camp aguinaldo with its beams. as my hands pressed its way from my father’s back down to his feet for massage, i saw from our window how moonbeams tried their best to penetrate areas still embraced with darkness.

i tried my best to connect with my father’s nerves by exerting extra pressure. every ounce of oil spread across his back entails a hope of reconciliation; reconciliation between a father and son’s sensibility over each other’s feelings. each stroke i made was filled with hopes that he might understand me as a person. each press was an attempt to express my appreciation towards his being a provider, my pity on our miscommunications, my rants over his being insensitive and inattentive over me and my sister’s feelings, and my grief over our failures of recognizing and knowing each other well.

the moon did a god job in exposing the shards of the broken beer bottles exposed in the street, in illuminating the uprooted tree at the back of the gymnasium where 2 children died years ago and in showing the way to the walking soldiers drowned in alcohol.

from our 4th floor government-provided pseudo condominium unit, i saw how the moon took the job of the electric sans light posts on the road. i saw its attempts to manifest its light over a city hidden under the blankets of the night. the moon’s sincerity of intention to show and uncover the secrets of the dark was evident, but its limitations were more visible from the top.

the smoke and drink sessions of the teen minors in the neighborhood successfully evaded the moon’s inquisitive beams by staying inside the abandoned truck on the street. dogs and cats feasted on the freshly-dumped garbage bags under the tree on the corner of the street, a few meters away from the gymnasium. silhouettes of shadows of sleeping soldiers on duty decorated the windows of the nearby office.

after minutes of establishing connection to the nerves, my father’s muscles relaxed, which meant rest for my fingers. a soft snore from him indicated the closure of the connection. the slight numbness of my hands told me that my appreciation, my pity, my rants and my grief all failed to strike a nerve.

looking back at the window, i reckoned that in its fullest form, the moon does wonders on earth. no doubt it’s a good source of light but it can never surpass the sun.

having a tree minute discourse with my father a day is an achievement for me. years back, my father and i had a supposed to be open-minded conversation over our various issues. right after i aired my stand, he immediately concluded the discussion and made it appear that i was wrong all along. since then, it occurred to me that my father speaks of infallible words and that a decent conversation is a farfetched idea.

lately, i’ve realized that my masseur skills were not enough to compensate for my lack of courage to spark up a simple conversation.

a simple massage could have said much, but it does not guarantee understanding. there’s also the risk of sending the wrong signals. a wrong press in a nerve could be fatal.

nothing related:

q: you have the face of an angel but the mouth of a fishmonger from brixton. how come?

a: are you accusing brixton fishmongers of being ugly? ha! anyway, why must "pretty" girls (i'm not saying i am)
but all demure and nice? and ugly girls can sprout vulgarities just because they look bad? thats a thrashy stereotype!

-from the blogger xiaxue


Anonymous said...

i wish your misunderstanding be solved. mahirap kasi yung ganun. lalo na kapag father and son.

Anonymous said...

I miss my father so much after reading this entry.

I hope you can settle all your differences... Our parents will not be around forever so we shouldn't think twice reaching out...

puklo said...

oops.. *chill.. kelangan ko na pala idelete yung pic.. hehe.. thanks dude sa link..

good luck! masosolve mo rin yan...

And dont forget to ask God for help

God bless

Anonymous said...

@ gimickero yeah. thanks.

@ alvini know. but there were moments that it's really hard to reach out.

@ pucleyeah. copyright laws even in the nternet are still up. =)
thanks. i hope we could settle this out asap.

Anonymous said...

mas maganda siguro kung maguusap kayo ng dad mo.

Anonymous said...

I'm only loving the act of massaging when I am the one being serviced at. Gawd I hate giving massages to people.

Oh, and I hope you get your problem with dear daddy fixed. Best of luck to ya.

Pot Navarro said...

Good luck. =)

Anonymous said...

I do hope that whastever strain you have with your dad get resolved. I think most parents care for their children.

My Dad has nothing in common with me so it is hard for me to try establishing a connection with the guy however hard I try. But at least I think he respects me even if I am far out from how he is.

bulitas said...

@rob:yeah. i'm trying. =)

@tala:well, who doesn't want the feeling and comfort of being massaged eh?
yeah, i hope things would work out soon. thanks.

@pot:tnx pot.

@jeeper:it's given that establishing communication will be extra hard if people have not much in common. but in our case, my father's got that i-am-the-right-in-here-and-will-always-be-right attitude as a soldier, which makes things even worse.

Anonymous said...

Sana maayos na ang hidwaan niyo ng ama mo. Mahirap ang ganyan, lalo pa't tatay mo siya.

Good luck.

(Massage. Grr. I badly need one right now. LOL)

dReaMS said...

may mga bagay lang talaga na parang katabi mo na - pero anino lang pala..
anino ng sinag ng buwan..
minsan madamot..

yaan mo lang..
bahala si batman jan..

& said...

oh. the pseudo-condo unit in camp aguinaldo na mahal daw ang renta?

so, your father belongs to the military. nice..

somehow, i feel the guilt in myself that i'm not 'trying' to establish a connection between me and my dad. though we talk, but not that much. though we are on the same house, we don't think we're on the same house.

geeeez. feeling guilty.

bulitas said...

@ jhed: well, yeah. thanks. massage? i do home service. mas malaki nga lang bayad. hehe.

@ dreamweaver:uhm, yeah, me point ka.

@ kevin:actually wala kaming renta. ang opportunity cost nga lang, pangit ang unit at quality nito.
well, welcome to the club kevin. =)

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