FATHER, MOTHER & SON…for seven days (5th of 7 parts)

5th Day (Saturday)

I was up in the switchback and I know that soon, after a twist, or a bend, or spin then down again I will go. But while my emotional rollercoaster was traversing a plane at the pinnacle I tried to enjoy the ride.

In the wee hours of Saturday morning, I took care of Marc Andrei, I allowed my wife to have a well-deserved sleep. It was a crash course I took up that time – Babysitting 101… I put milk on a dispenser reading carefully the instructions in the can (from the original milk given by Sister Babe we decided to buy a better infant formula – SIMILAC – that was prescribed by the Pediatrician who conducted the routine check-up on Marc Andrei that day); I prepared milk for Marc Andrei whenever he craved for it; I hummed softly to his ears songs to put him to sleep (I think he liked best the “hummed” version of “NOBODY”); I clutched him gently in my arms whenever he would not stop crying. But when I felt that Marc Andrei’s back was wet, I was forced to awaken my wife to change our son’s diaper. Well, I have not tried changing Marc Andrei’s diaper yet, so I paid attention to what my wife was doing at that time because I wanted to do the honor of changing Marc Andrei’s diaper next time.

My wife went back to sleep, she had not had a good one in the past days, I followed shortly thereafter when I was sure that Marc Andrei was safe and secured.

I had not much sleep that day but I worked all day inspired. There were no classes but I went to school to finish paperwork that piled up in the past three days. With so much enthusiasm, I recounted to some colleagues our experiences the past days.

Then night came. While Marc Andrei was deep in slumber in the divan, I and my wife had dinner. She was obviously perturbed, she was seemingly not minding the developments I was telling her about my plans regarding Marc Andrei’s papers. I sensed trouble. I was afraid my rollercoaster would soon hit another spin… another twist…another treacherous dive. I just hoped that it would not be so trenchant a fall that may throw me off the rollercoaster.

After dinner, we sat separately at both ends of the divan, March Andrei was between us. Then I asked my wife to drop whatever bomb she wished to explode in my face.

What she told me left me DUMBFOUNDED. The mother of Marc Andrei is not a 19-year old student from Manila but rather a woman from Bulacan… and of all places from our own community, right in the subdivision where we are residing, and living with her mother just two houses away from us.

Down went my emotional rollercoaster. How I had wished I was just dreaming at that point.

My wife told me that it was whispered to her by very reliable sources – by well-meaning people who thought we deserve to know the truth. But Sister Babe is a woman not capable of DECEPTION. I know I could TRUST her. Like my mom who is a DUPAYA from Lal-lo, Cagayan, Sister Babe is an Ilocana. We would normally speak in Ilocano when there were no other people with us who could not understand the vernacular. We are both officers of our homeowners association, I am the President and she is the Vice-President. I had to give her the benefit of the doubt. She perfectly understood what I told her that Tuesday night when we had a serious talk about Marc Andrei.

But just the same, I have to act on the matter divulged by my wife. After dinner, I started piecing together things said by my wife and the information I gathered clandestinely from our neighbors, especially those who were residing nearest to the reported real mother of Marc Andrei. Then I talked to Sister Susie, my confidante in our subdivision, who like me can speak both Ilocano and Ibanag.

Sister Susie could not believe what she heard. She doubted that Sister Babe would deceive me and my wife in that manner. I asked her and she agreed to drop by Sister Babe’s house and see how the latter would react if she would tell her that we are again having second thoughts about taking Marc Andrei because we already know who the real mother is.

Notwithstanding the situation that emerged, our love for Marc Andrei remained. My wife and I talked about all possible eventualities. She made it so clear to me that even if the real mother lives just nearby, she wouldn’t mine. Marc Andrei is hers and nobody could take him away from her.

Then at almost midnight, I received a text message from Sister Susie saying that Sister Babe denied knowing who the mother of Marc Andrei is.

(to be continued…)


Teacher-Writer Hardpen is my nom de plume. My real name is Massuline Antonio Dupaya Ligaya. Many times I was asked the question, "Why do you write?" I don't write for rewards nor adulation. When I write poems, stories or essays, seeing them completed gives me immense joy and satisfaction. The happiness and sense of fulfillment I feel when completing my works are my rewards. When I teach, I don't work but I play. The classroom is my playground, the students are my playmates, and the subject is our toy. Proud to be me! Proud to be a FILIPINO! TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

Posted on March 31, 2013, in Adoption, Parenthood, Treachery and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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