Cousins These Days

A., who's in his early twenties, finished high school and is attending College in Sydney. He is currently in the Manila as he tries to renew his student visa. During Christmas dinner, he prepared roast beef with a capsicum side dish. He made a mean leche flan, and in a country that's preoccupied with anything instant, he took time with ground arabica coffee using a French press. "A plunger" was how they called it down undah, he said. Our conversation revolved around the upcoming Phoenix concert, the musical development of Mishka Adams, and the crowd in Conspiracy.

His brother, D., will be watching a Dave Matthews concert in Sydney. D. also saw Pearl Jam, and we shared a fascination with JD Salinger. Now he's a breadwinner.

J. is in Melbourne now, but he remains both a significant part and enormous influence in my life. I end up calling him when I bump into a slump, as I did when I had trouble with grade 3 math - particularly rounding off a .5

E. has fathered three incredibly good-looking children, and boosted our family's confidence in the looks department of our gene pool. He came here on Christmas day, telling me (and not for the first time) that he's fallen on hard times. And every time, I remember how we kept me company and bought me a drink at the right time.

J., from my father side, is a cousin I didn't speak with a lot,Well, I didn't think he spoke very much. He's now based in Vienna and I see him instagramming Europe and the good life. I wished we actually talked more while drinking Pale Pilsen in the spirit of our grandfather. I imagine him telling me about those castles in Bruges.

Several of our cousins from the US, my best memory of which is how we spent their vacations either sneaking out to drink or go to clubs, are actually Honor Society students who eventually graduate from Berkeley or the University of Texas.

Many Christmases ago, I celebrated with these cousins of mine who are now spread out to Melbourne, Sydney, New York, California, Texas or Vienna. The frequency and population of those Christmas reunions scaled down, but I'd like to think our lives are all interwoven as we are all, somehow, cut from the same fabric.

When we were driving on the way home from our two Christmases last night, we asked our little what his favorite part of Christmas was. "Getting gifts" he said, all thrilled and bubbly even at one in the morning. His ironman blasters were strapped to his arms.

The little one added his second favorite part of Christmas, "Sharing with my cousins."

D. and I talked about how concerned you were with your Kuya E. when he had to throw tantrum. We knew you loved him.

Your Kuya Z. is also 9 years old. He just took his first communion a few weeks back. He also recently got his Tita D.'s pre-loved smartphone as a present. He made a comment about some songs we left there. He liked Jamie's Cullum's version of Radiohead's High and Dry. He liked the You and Me Song from the Wannadies. Hearing about his taste in music, my hopes sprang as sparkly as this evening's Christmas spirit.

That fabric will be woven quite nicely.

Like This, Like Now

We've attended several weddings in tranquil chapels and charming cathedrals which were followed by elaborate receptions in posh hotels or manicured gardens. Nothing though, comes more naturally than an aisle against the sand, sea and sky. The light came from embers of a sun that's about to rest. White cloth and orchids moved graciously against gentle winds.The waves, washing its hands with the sea came perfect with a tasteful playlist.

The bride herself made the sea-turtle knot on the guest cards. We were privileged to be among brilliant artists, and to see once again - the many people who touched our lives. To be drunk, and in love, and to witness more of love's wonderful unfolding between one friend and another. It all happened while we ate lechon and kare kare for the feast.

The sand took care of our little one, and its as if he understood that he need to be respectful of the ceremony. But truly, he was content with burying his hands and letting the infinite nature of the grains run through his small hands. Whenever asked, he told everyone his name was Sandman.

Our good friend F. hosted and used lines such as lubricated conversations, and H. was asked to deliver a speech where he both told a lovely story and  a subtle political statement to assert gay rights. "Use your freedom to promote ours" he says. We certainly look forward to attending the weddings of our dearest friends.

We spent another day or two at the beach after the wedding."Drinks on me" S. announced while sat in a half-circle facing the sea and the orange of a sunset. P.'s playlist was on via a bluetooth speaker (the natural evolution of speakers) and there was Zero 7, some ambient and some chillout. I often summon the "resolutely floating , aimlessly" feeling when I'm in the shoreline with cold beer in my clenched fist. But this time, I wasn't just happy for myself. I was happy for everyone.

The evening came and sky lanterns were rising up to the sky. We ate the leftovers from the wedding. And we found the perfect time to open the bottle of Patron, which stood in our shelf for so long, waiting for some real, shared joy.

We talked about the sky lanterns we saw flying last night. How Monday morning glittered with gold carved delicately in the water.