Hello everyone and welcome back! In this blog assignment, we were asked to read Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway. It was about a couple on a train station arguing about whether or not they should have an abortion. In reading the story, we learned about motifs, symbols and how to write with some dialogue. I also felt many emotions and the two that I was able to relate to the most was discomfort and uncertainty. In this blog, I am going to write about the day I left the Philippines and how I was very unprepared for that moment. “Watch the house.” “What about it?” I asked my little brother. “It’s going to get smaller and smaller until you can’t see it.” My two brothers and I stuck our heads onto the car window. “Goodbye truck” “Goodbye house” “Goodbye Grandpa” We started naming a lot of the things and people we were leaving behind. We winced as the house got smaller. Finally my father took the slight turn which made the house vanish. My brothers and I screamed as we realized that that was the last time we would see the house. It felt like a sin to have the image fade slowly in our minds but there was nothing we could do to control it. I do still remember the dirty bricks with the vines growing over them, the rusty red gates with peeling paint and the dark brown soil which surrounded the front of the house. The place wasn't well taken care of but it was home. The car ride lasted for a couple hours. It may be a small country but due to how the roads were constructed and the heavy population, traffic was horrible. It was odd to see both my parents in the car together since they’ve been divorced for a very long time but my brothers and I were thankful that everything seems to be just fine and that our father was with us. The clouds began to darken and that made sense since it was late May, the rainy season of the Philippines was on its way. When we arrived at the airport, it started pouring. The front was packed with so many people and cars that I could not even see the entrance. “I’ll just drop you off here” said my dad. Our youngest sibling panicked, “No! You’re leaving this soon? I thought you were coming with us, please don’t leave.” “Don’t worry, I'm coming in,” my dad laughed, “I just have to find a good parking spot and we need to drop off a lot of luggage.” All of us kids were relieved as we were all thinking the same thing. We took our bags and got soaked in the cold rain. We waited for him inside at a 7 Eleven store. My dad arrived and we decided to eat together. This was also going to be one of those "last times." “Bhrodyne, sit here with daddy, I’ll take pictures of you two.” My dad wrapped his arms around my brother tightly and tickled him until he was screaming. “When you come back, you’re going to be such a big boy!” Bhrodyne giggled, “Yeah and I’ll finally get my 1 on 1 and beat you up!” “You wish.” “No way, you won’t be able to handle all my strength, not even 50 percent of it.” The scrawny little boy boasted. “Oh, you really think so?” He started tickling him again and even put him in a head lock until he yelled, "Tap, tap, tap!” We hung out for an hour or 2 in the 7 Eleven until it was time to go. My father turned to me, “Maxyne, you know what, we don’t really have to worry, I don’t want you and the boys to be sad. When we talk again, it will be as if we just saw each other yesterday. This is nothing.” I agreed and I knew this to be true because my dad would usually disappear for weeks at a time but whenever he came back, everything was always back to normal like nothing ever happened. As we were boarding our luggage onto the plane, my friend messages me, “Hey, do not board your guitar on the plane because they’ll toss it and you’ll have to buy a brand new one. It happened to me twice.” I told my mom that I had to give my guitar back to my dad and she let me. I ran as fast as I could, jumped over big carts, went through bags and crowds to get to my dad before he left. This was my first ever electric guitar which my father gave to me when I was 13, a black Gibson Les Paul. I didn't want to give it back because it was one of the only few things I had that reminded me of him. He saw me and I explained to him they’d snap my guitar’s neck and that I already had a hand carry. He took my guitar which was wrapped in a black fabric case and put it around his shoulder. I hugged him tightly, holding back all of my tears. We said our goodbyes and I love yous. I walked backwards and gave one final wave. The words of my brother echoed in the back of my mind: “Smaller and smaller until you can’t see it.” I watched him until he was swallowed by the crowed of people. Through the tight exit and big glass windows, the clouds were still dark outside, contrasting the bright white walls of the airport.
8 Comments
9/23/2019 07:19:49 pm
I can see from your writing how sad you were that you had to leave friends and family. Have you seen your father since then?
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Maxyne
9/24/2019 08:30:29 pm
Thanks for reading my blog post! I have not but I do hope to see him in the future when I’m able to save up enough money.
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Jada
9/23/2019 07:33:43 pm
I felt a sense of sadness when you had to leave everyone that you had grow up with. I too had to deal with that when I was younger I lived in Delaware and towards the end of 6th grade I had to move to pa leaving behind my friends and different family members but you get through it and become stronger and it gives u a chance to meet new people and expand different friendships.
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Tai Mai
9/24/2019 06:17:09 am
It was sad to see things of your previous life and loved ones faded away as you move on to a new life. I liked the symbolic scene you made with your old home getting smaller and smaller as you go away and the same with your dad as you board on the plane. Although it was a sad scene, it doesn't mean it'll be the end like your dad said and it felt good knowing that you will see him and you family again in the Philippines one day.
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Vivian Teofilak
9/24/2019 06:48:45 am
The writing in this is really good. I know what its like to move. Me and my siblings also watched the house as we drove away just like you and your brother.
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Sabatino
9/24/2019 06:49:39 am
I sense the emotions of sadness and love in this story. This post has the potential to be a powerful memoir. I noticed how a narrative is formed through the use of description, action (dialogue, in particular), themes, and symbolism.
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Shanell Dodd
9/24/2019 05:42:28 pm
I really admire your writing. Your choice of words if great. Description can't be compare to....
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Madison Lidstone
9/24/2019 06:49:48 am
This broke my heart. I wish i could tell you how i relate to this. But nothing i've been through, will and ever has been on this level of intense longing. Your piece was wonderfully written, as always. Although i know the feeling of, the "last moments". Knowing something will be the last of its kind in your eyes and heart. You did that, with grace.
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Maxyne LimcacoHi! Welcome to my blog. Archives
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