Just another day staying home. A mid morning mass, a quick trip to the supermarket, an hour in the kitchen before claiming a spot in the couch to check out world news or my fav podcasts. Before long, I’m on the phone or social media touching base with family and friends or busy with my journals. The MO somehow shifts when I’m shuttled to my other living quarters further southwest of the city. My kin lives in 3 separate homes only 2 kilometers away from each other. That means I can actually walk from one home to the next without breaking a sweat. Like having breakfast in one house, moving to another for lunch and then heading to yet another for supper. And the route is quite interesting as it passes 2 parks where rows of maple trees line the roads. Saw them leaves turning from green to red to brown, till gone.

Autumn fading into early winter.

Life in the suburbs mean more get-togethers with family and long time friends. More playtime with the family pets too which include dogs and guinea pigs. Laundry includes open-air drying whenever the sun’s out and cooking for more than a single household. Lemons, oranges and calamansi picked from the trees in the backyard and the kitchen forever busy with someone baking, cooking or making jam or marmalade. Life may be simpler but it doesn’t necessarily mean quieter. The dogs never get tired of playtime and the kitchen sink is always filled with pots and pans to wash. Between my sister and I, we always have something to talk about and some stories begging to be retold. Papa and Mama gave us many childhood memories to amuse us no end and somehow, the laughter that accompanies each repeated story is always on cue.

No, we never settle for just one or 2 desserts.

Interestingly, I’ve been sleeping way earlier than my usual zzzzz hours here. And longer too. Sure I miss my bed back home but city sounds even at night are absent here in the OZ suburbs. So it’s nice and quiet. My sister says my improved zzzz’s could be because I get the sun regularly here when I walk between houses, or when I hang laundry on the backyard clothesline. Maybe. Walking is so pleasant at low temps and I don’t mind carrying groceries from the nearby supermarket wearing my favorite hooded sweatshirts. Plus there’s the dog begging for a walk to the park.

Ibises, which they call bin birds as they’re often found rummaging through trash.

Slower rhythms. Just doing mundane things sans distractions. Finding time to listen to a grandson playing a new piece on the piano, or teaching a 10-year old how to make a pseudo pizza using Lebanese bread as crust. My sister and I even relish those trips to Costco to buy our household supplies and eat those Au$2 hotdogs with soda. Not much to do yet time swiftly passes as we’ve somehow adopted a routine that seems to work for everyone. My wardrobe has been limited to 5 sets outside of 2 party wear, which I love. Amazing how liberating it is when we can do with much less. When I ask my grandson what he wants me to cook, his choices are invariably sinigang, adobo or fried chicken. Can it get simpler than that?

Is a dog’s life way simpler?

The past months, I’ve had very meaningful conversations with my sister, nephews and nieces. Even with the grandkids. Family is a very integral part of our life and I’m happy we’re able to spend precious time together. Not just to reminisce happy times in the past, but share what’s important to each of us. In so doing, we rediscover ourselves and appreciate life so much better. Without the material attachments, and with complete regard for how unique each one of us is. We remember our departed loved ones with so much fondness and wonder how the younger members of our family would remember us many years from now. Which shared moments would they remember? What lines or stories would they repeat with much amusement? As my sister’s dementia creeps in, I notice how some funny episodes in our childhood continue to draw laughter from her. Like there’s a couple of stories she would repeat at least thrice each time we’re together that result in exactly the same reaction. These are the moments that made a mark. The moments deeply etched in memories. There’s no saying which ones will be remembered. But that is not to say we cannot create more for the younger ones to remember long after we’re gone. Having said that, won’t you agree we’ve got work to do? I’m sure each of us would like to be remembered a certain way, so yeah, let’s get on with it.