It was a peculiar Saturday. It had been raining nonstop since the previous night with no signs of letting up. Although certain areas in Metro Manila are known to experience flooding under these circumstances, it was alarming that even places on higher ground were submerged in waist-deep water.
I worried for friends and family and was fearful, short of a mild heart attack, for my 14-year old son. He had left early this morning for a table tennis game at the Ateneo gym. Being a child after my own heart, he isn't much of a phone-user. It didn't occur to him that I might be worried sick, even after I had sent several distraught messages asking how he was and, later on, begging him to come home at once. He probably attributed my maternal hysteria to caffeine overdose.
I understand youth's fearlessness and sense of adventure, and I trust my son's strength and presence of mind in the face of a crisis--- but I'm still struggling with separation anxiety and a mother's inherent and often irrational fears over her children's well-being. The lessons are invaluable, but the test is utter torture.
My son is home now, safe and mildly annoyed because his shoes are soaked.
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