There is a certain weight in the air today, a quiet heaviness I can’t quite shake. I don’t want to admit that it’s simply the passage of time, or the realization that my "prime" might be behind me, but sometimes the reality of aging is hard to hold. Maybe it was a video reel I stumbled across on Facebook that did it - one of those clips that reaches into the archives of your life and pulls everything back to the surface.
The blogger in the video asked a simple, piercing question: "If you were given the chance to go back to 1998 and stay there for a while, would you ever come back to the present?"
That question hit me like a wave. Suddenly, I wasn't just scrolling; I was reflecting. I was remembering the faces of the people who shaped me - my friends, my family, and the loved ones who are no longer here.
For me, 1998 was the year the world truly opened up. It was the year I graduated from college. I remember the independence of renting a small studio apartment in Batangas City, learning for the first time how to navigate the world on my own. I was juggling the demands of my final year of studies with the complexities of a personal relationship. I’m proud of that version of myself - the one who managed to graduate with honours without losing the capacity to love.
Back then, "me time" was a deliberate choice, not something squeezed between notifications. I remember the simple joy of choosing between a PBA game on the TV, a PC game, or just lying on my bed listening to my favourite songs on a cassette tape. Yes, I had a whole collection of them!
When the walls of the apartment felt too small, I would walk through the city at night. I can still smell the smoke of the "barbecue" and "isaw" at the street food stalls. Dinner was often just a plate of white rice and a can of fried sardines or corned beef, though nothing could beat a meal at the local carinderia. And the mornings? They were a choice between the classic pandesal, a warm bonete, or a steaming plate of Lucky Me instant pancit canton.
Life wasn't complicated then. We didn't have mobile phones or social media. There were no Zoom meetings, no Youtube, no Messenger, and no Whatsapp - yet, we were so happy. We appreciated the small things because we had to be present to experience them. I honestly don't know how we coordinated everything back then, but we did. Communication felt more intentional; interaction was physical and real. Sometimes, I deeply miss the version of myself that wasn't tied up to a phone 24/7.
As these memories flashed back, they brought a sharp, deep ache in my heart. I thought of my late Ate Zening, my loving aunt. I used to tell her all my dreams, always imagining she would be there to see them come true. I miss her deeply. I thought of my Dad, too. If I could take that trip back to 1998, I wouldn’t just go for the nostalgia; I’d go to spend more time with him. I’d talk more, bond more, and hold onto those moments just a little longer.
They say death is the inevitable opposite of life, but I believe life is a gift given by God for a reason. Every life is purpose-driven and meant to be cherished. Where there is life, there is hope; and where there is hope, there is love - because the One who gave us this world is God and God is love.
I’ve realized today that it’s okay to linger in the past for a moment. It’s okay to get emotional. Without our "then," there is no "now." We are the products of our history. As the saying goes, before we can be molded, we must first be melted.
So, yes... I am emotional today. My mind is full of ghosts and golden memories. But I am also happy. There is a healing power in putting these feelings into words. Let’s cherish this life - and each other - while we still can.
