How much of me am I willing to reveal? How much do you want me to?

In a desperate attempt to kill time, I spent half a day spending what would surely seem like an amount that would make my dad kill me. At my last stop, while I was still conscious that half a month’s toxic work pay could possibly evaporate in just half a day, I sifted through my wallet for spare coins and crumpled bills. What I found had me forming tears in my eyes.

A year ago, the Cardenas family had its annual family reunion. The first Sunday of January is usually the date reserved for the affair. As I can clearly recall, said month was the last month when mom could still walk.

At work yesterday, I had a fight with my dad over a recorded (as per freakin’ policy of Citigroup) phone conversation as he angrily persuaded me to ditch the company’s kick-off party to attend the two-day reunion. Today, the first day of the reunion, I finally won the fight in convincing my dad that I’d just join on the second day.

It certainly couldn’t have been any more coincidental. The reunion, what I found in my wallet…

Mom’s 2×2 picture that I placed in my new wallet had me recalling tough but happier times. She was struggling to stay alive. I was struggling in helping my dad make both ends meet. I had no time or chance to splurge on myself. But I was happy, more than happy that in the little things I did, I knew I was doing something that certainly helped.

Now after more than a year of depriving myself of a well-deserved spa and finally getting to treat myself because of money to spare, I still ended with tears in my eyes.

A few months after mom’s death last year, a Hollywood celebrity who just gave birth lost on the same day her first born son who visited her. It was quoted in the magazine article where I read said news that "you never move on, you get through".

I guess the whole point just boils down to said idea. Whatever loss you encountered - break-ups, loss of loved ones due to death - this becomes a part of you that you could never take away or just erase or even forget. You don’t move on. You get through. Which is why it’s okay to cry every now and then. Which is why it’s never a sign of weakness when you cry.
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Which is why up to now I still can’t accept what my mom’s ex said about me a month after my month’s death about not being able to move on.