This is how I remember the house of Tita Emy in Bulacan.

A few weeks ago, I finally had the chance to visit my mother's hometown. If things had gone my way, I would have done it with only my dad and my special brother. I had hoped the three of us could visit Tita Emy’s resting place together. Our family will always share a special relationship with Tita Emy.

I will always remember Tita Emy as my mother’s optimistic, accommodating, and caring sister. We only saw her once or twice a year, but her concern for our family was deep and sincere. She always looked for my brother whenever we visited Bulacan. She was the only relative who eagerly awaited my brother's presence. One thing I’ll never forget about her is how she rushed to Marikina when she heard about my brother’s accident. Anyone who remembers my brother and shows him genuine care will always have a special place in my heart. 

If Tita Emy is still alive, she would have insisted on regularly visiting my brother. She would have been there during his hospitalizations. But she went ahead to heaven with my mother. Losing Tita Emy felt like losing another mother in my lifetime. Aside from my grandparents, she remains as the reason why Bulacan feels home. 

Today, even Tita Emy’s house is gone. My cousin, who has started her own family, rebuilt the ancestral home to accommodate their growing needs. It was for the best since Bulacan has long suffered from uncontrollable flooding. They needed a flood-proof home for their family.

During my recent visit to Bulacan, I was overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. On one hand, I felt a sense of happiness returning to a place that once felt so familiar. I couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness, since everything has changed. It will never be the same again. My cousins and I have lost our parents, and many of them have since built their own families still in Bulacan

There’s also a part of me that feels envious of the lives my cousins. They seem to have everything they need in the comfort and simplicity of Bulacan. They found contentment in the very place that once held so many of our shared memories. Sometimes, I wonder if I will be able to find that same kind of peace. 

To some extent, it feels like everyone else has moved on. But I’m still here, grieving, holding on to all the things I thought would never end: Tita Emy’s home, the simplicity of life, fewer responsibilities, and how everything once felt calm and peaceful.

Today, all that remains are the heartwarming memories. It's a reminder that, somewhere in time, we had a home in Tita Emy in Bulacan.