Life is like a garden.

 Remembering Mommie here in her garden.

Dipolog City.

“Goodmorning pretty rose bud!” This is what Mommie always greet me early in the morning. The sun would shine brightly every morning. I remember the times we spent drinking our morning coffee, dipping it with our cinnamon breads. 

I remember, Mommie takes good care of her garden. 

If the rain shows up at night, I can still remember when Mommie was around. She’d sing a lullaby song to put Kym to sleep. Sleep, sleep little birdie… hmmmm hhmmmm hmmm

When lightning illuminates and thunder rolls, I remember Mommie’s afraid of it. She’ll stay in the sala and creep down as the crashing thunder sounds. 

But if the night is starry, I find her out in the terrace looking at the night sky above.

Now, I would look out my window and stare at the beautiful sky. I would choose one star and the brightest star I see in the darkest night. Hoping that somehow you are also looking down at me... I utter a silent prayer and send all my cries to the heavens above thinking that in time they would reach you.

In some ways, we should take good care of our lives just like we are dealing with our gardens. 

Get rid of weeds. We need water to live. Cultivate it, don’t take it for granted.