Moving

Bianca Macalalag

I look at my mother. She is 50 years old. I look at her face, it’s etched with evidences of her life, her laughs, her worries, everything powerful enough to morph her features into a picture. With all this to ponder, With so many questions to ask, only one escapes the confines of my lips.

“How do you do it?”

“How do you live, and do so knowing that everyone will eventually fade?” 

“One day everyone you once knew will be a mirage of joy etched into your mind, one day the place you live in, will live inside you. One day you will be left behind, with no one to make memories with.” 

“How do you continue, knowing that this is the inevitable?” 

My mother stares at me for a seeming second, maybe more. She stares, and she starts to laugh and chastise me for bombarding her with such nihilistic ideologies at such an improper hour. 

After this however, she looks at me and says 

“The impermanence of people, is exactly what makes time with them precious.” 

“Without this inevitable fate, meaning is impossible to find.” 

Love unabashedly. Love indefinitely. Never pride yourself in indifference. Let others bask in the otherworldly sensation of adoration. Love and love and love, and keep trying to do so, that is what keeps the earth on its axis. It is what makes instances a memory. It is what makes the impermanent, permanent. 

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Bianca Macalalag and is from Laguna, Philippines. She is currently studying 11th grade in Anteneo De Manila University.