What to write about?
Something that has always
been in the recesses of my mind, but never expressed nor allowed to ease into
the forefront of things.
What many might suggest as
the reflexive answer to the oft-repeated question of what their ideal home
ought to be.
As kids and wards of our
parents, the whole bit about an ideal abode surely did not occupy our
consciousness. We lived with our
parents, and lived we did in the house or houses they provided for us. It was not our anointed lot to be involved in
the process of choosing places to stay.
We simply lived – with them. And
liked it or not, that sufficed for our continued existence.
As we grew and acquired our
own families, again that question may have been farthest from our minds. Why, we were too busy trying to eke out a
living to worry about ideals. There were
budgets to worry about. Work
opportunities that probably took us to places we detested. But we went anyway because work was more
paramount. A no-brainer choice compared
to unemployment which could bring one’s family closer to starvation or
deprivation.
And years may have rolled
faster than we could have imagined before the same question may even have
crossed our minds, though it obviously will at one time or other since this
frenetic world of consumerism and temporal ideals will not leave anybody in
peace. Alluring advertisements in
magazines and on audio-visual media, and even like-minded friends and
acquaintances will not let us alone. And
there is no escaping that, unless one lived solitarily and in the mountains.
So now leaden and gray, we are
left to ponder about the question again.
This time a new alignment is in our stars, giving us time and space, and
maybe some extra resources, to seriously explore the question.
What would be an ideal place
to live – for you and the rest of your reduced household, as empty-nesters
really? Not when you were young and
ambitious. Not when such an ideal abode
could have provided optimal solace and comfort during your difficult years of
raising a growing family or dealing with the multitudinous pressures of
work. But at this present time.
Such is the issue at hand.
Chronologically retracing the
places where we had resided and spent precious time with family could help
develop a keen perspective not immediately fathomed if we resorted to other
methods.
The first real place that our
fledgling family could call our own home was an old and tiny half of a duplex
located in the periphery of Nazareth Subdivision in Cagayan de Oro, the land of
my birth. Rented for the measly sum of
65 pesos a month, it was very decrepit, sewage was leaky and thus made the
place looked very filthy and unsanitary, walls were flimsy thus privacy was
compromised, and it was hot and humid, dingy and too small for any comfort. But we survived it, me, my wife, and two
kids. Overall, it was farthest from what
could be considered ideal by any measure.
Thrown far into a distant
place in pursuit of a better employment future, we rented another
apartment. No better or worse than the
first, but maybe a little bigger space-wise.
Made worse by very unreliable electric power, though made more bearable
by kindly and very hospitable landlords.
Had recurring bouts of loneliness and strong pining for a more citified
environment. Which promptly disappeared only
after that short stint ended.
We were back again to the old
hometown. And the search for an abode
close to work ensued. It was back to the
periphery of Nazareth Subdivision, to another duplex which was small, but painted
and brand-new. The small lot on which
the building sat was bounded in the back by the city cemetery. Ugh! Overall, nothing to crow about or a
resting place devoid of any redeeming value worth a moment’s remembrance. Space again was inadequate made worse by the
arrival of twins, which doubled the total number of kids.
Finally in desperation, we
decided to opt for acquiring our own house.
Not that the family was now oozing with wealth or ease. But it was the only feasible solution to our
multiplying challenges.
It was then that the idea of
an ideal house for a growing family became a possibility.
We had purchased on
installment two (2) lots totaling over 600 sq. m . in a brand-new and ultra-modern subdivision situated
in a prime location very close to the poblacion core where I worked. Wow!
And 2 lots to boot!
But when construction finally
started after a whirlwind of preparatory moves, things had changed drastically.
One lot had been assigned to
a sister so she could also construct her own house beside ours. Though the lot where ours would stand was over
300sq. m. it would be a one-storey duplex, one half to be occupied by my dear
mother with our youngest and unmarried sister.
We did live in that cramped
space of a house with 4 kids and the help for the next 5 years. Not ideal but bearable, it was after all our
own house. The first house we ever
owned.
Then it was family immigration
to another country in our continuing search for better opportunities.
We ended going thru the same
rigmarole as when we started as a family – first bunking with relatives, then
moving to a flat and then to an apartment.
To finally our own
house. Any house that we could afford – without
any consideration or thought about what would be ideal for us. So we ended in an old house with 1200 sq.
feet of living space. Its sidewalls
flushed to both neighboring houses, making the entire block looking like a row
of fused houses. Individual backyards provided some breathing spaces or elbow
room for the occupants. And for the next
20 years we would call this home. Not
ideal, but safe and secure comfort.
Halfway into our stay there,
it was realized that relocation to another place would do the kids still in
school better – better environment for both schooling and neighborhood. Again, a duplex was the choice, though now it
was called a patio home. And it had more
space and more rooms. The development of
a few acres had its own main street and open gates. Still looking like a cookie-cutter community
made more so by strict rules on the color of the houses – which was one color.
After retirement, the empty
nesters had more depth and breadth to their visions of where the ideal place to
live would be.
Away from the frenzied pace
of urbanized living, in a newly developed community which used to be a farming
town. Finally we were in a detached single-family house with some yards, and
lots of elbow room within its over 2500 sq. feet of living space. Though still part of a cookie-cutter type of
development, except a lot larger in acreage.
Then we had to move back to
the old homeland, whether permanently or not is still a floating issue, wafting
out there in the firmament of uncertainty.
All our kids and their families are still out there.
But could we now pursue and
bring fruition to our ideas about what and where the ideal abode ought to be –
for us? Well, maybe somewhat.
We now live in a nice house
that we had built for ourselves – with detailed specifications essentially
originating from our perceived likes and dislikes. Though it bore many construction deficiencies,
it can pass as livable and comfortable.
The lot on which it stands is smallish, as subdivision lots go. It is not far from where the first house we
ever owned now stands, though the latter had been renovated and made a lot
bigger. But overall, our place could be
made better – like maybe in a better location, with better climate, with more
natural amenities, etc.
So maybe, this could be the
answer.
Out there in the mountains
with its very cool climate, with a babbling brook in the back and within
earshot. Away from the chaotic hustle
and bustle of city life and annoying people.
So who knows what after all this is done and ready for occupancy. The future holds many answers.
Because as ever, life is a
continuing journey. A work in progress.