Only Child

How my parents met, I don't quite exactly know. I am aware of several details pertaining as to how it was, but only to certain extent. And some aspects of the story even makes me boil in anger deep inside. But one thing is sure, my father's dead and I'm an only child.

I was born in the Philippines. Date and exact location, I choose not to disclose. I have reasons to believe that these are sensitive information and must not be provided online. My full name is not something I wanna write about here either. And so we'll skip that. Though, I do feel comfortable posting my nickname. So let's just say my name is, 'Aron'.

Photos dictate that my mother was so happy when I was born. And scarce photos of my father also displays such emotion with me in them. And there's only one photo of my father and mother together. I remember seeing it a long time ago. And perhaps it is somewhere in here, I just gotta go search. And I think I will. I have brought photos from the Philippines because I thought they would serve as a remembrance to me or clue to my past as a kid. It was my father that named me. And I kinda wished they named me something different. I really don't like my name at all. Just like how I don't like many things. But it's not like I hate them either. I suppose that's one good thing about me: I don't hate anything nor anyone.

My mother told me that when she was pregnant to me, she prayed to this saint... Saint Lorenzo Ruis or something. She prayed for me to be a boy. And I'm glad I turned out to be a boy. I have this notion that it seems so difficult to be a girl. But that's just me.
Supposedly, this saint was sent to Japan to spread Christianity. But things didn't turn out pretty well for him over there. He was killed by the Japanese people by means of garrote.
And the scary and amazing part was... I was born w/ my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. If that was dangerous or not, I do not know. But it was a bit enigmatic to me if everything was true.

(I was a rebel at a young age. I said 'fuck that, shit' to pants.)

One more unusual thing she has told me was that my hair was starting to get too long. And so we visited a barber to trim my hair. At the time, she told me that the hair on the back of my head were growing in a certain way where I had sort of three tails of hair. But by accident, which I find difficult to believe, the barber cut them. And she didn't want that. I find that difficult to believe. What kind of stupid unprofessional barber would commit such a ridiculous fault in terms of following directions? But, that's just what my mother told me. I don't remember it at all. I suppose, I was just too young.

My father died of heart attack when I was just a year old. Or maybe a bit older than that. I don't really remember. Heck, I don't really remember anything about my father. Except for I know we both look so much alike. I'm just shorter.
And my mother had to raise me on her own with the help of my grand parents. But only later on when she had to work in the capital. I remember living with other people while she worked and just come home in the evening. More details about this lifestyle, I will post on another entry someday. And she eventually had to bring me to my grand parents so she could work in Manila. And then, eventually, she went to Taiwan. She came back and months later, she was in Canada with my grand mother's sister. It seems my mother has done so much just to be able to finance my earlier years. I owe her quite a bit. Heh, I owe her my life.
And my father, quite unfortunately, was not able to help her.

I refuse to ask my mother about my father. For I am afraid that it will only bring back painful memories. It's not like I would love it either if people asked me about my ex. And we weren't even married nor had a kid. Imagine my mother's position. Perhaps she has moved on. But she never remarried. That says something...

This entry's too long already. I'll stop for now...