Today is Father’s day and has been surreal and amazing. Had my father been alive today he would have had 14 grandchildren and 3 great grandchildren. The last few months I have been pondering the meaning of life and family, my role in all of it, my role in the world and humanity, what should and should not be and where to go from here. Perhaps it is a natural reflection that happens when turning 40 is imminent. Perhaps a new perspective from thinking I am 20 and immortal and in the now to facing my own immortality and the limits of time. Or just all a cool coincidence. Someone said that when we are young we are always trying to move forward in time, when we get older we are always trying to go back or hang onto time as tight as we can. Today I feel that I am both hanging on and moving forward at the same time yet suspended in time and space. Interesting, surreal and exhausting. I still cringe at the phrase “getting older” when it pertains to me. I don’t feel old and I want to put that off as long as I can get away with it. I am in the best physical shape of my life and look much better than I did when I was in my 20s- so no issues with vanity and being 40. I am in the best mental shape and have a sense of self confidence I never had when I was 20. I am pretty sure of myself, who I am and what I want. When I was in my 20’s I was all over the place finding my identity and solidifying my belief system. I still don’t know the answers to just about everything but I’m not necessarily worried about them as much. I’m disappointed though that there is no world peace, that so many good people do not live up to their best and hurt others as a result and that people are still going hungry in a world where there is extreme wealth. The notion that work, life, family balance is more important to me than ever. I don’t have the patience for the forces that constantly challenge my delicate balance. Work and some things in life can wait. Family cannot. Self care cannot. Social justice cannot.
I only have 4 years left before my daughter leaves for college and 6 more years with my youngest son. My oldest son is grown and oftentimes I long for the days he was young and home and all three children were home. At the same time I love witnessing his growth, seeing him as a loving, brilliant, mature adult. I want to savor as many moments as I can before I reach that day where I look back and long for my daughter to be young and at home. I have made a commitment to be there.
Ironically in all of this self-reflection about family, almost at the same time, my youngest niece, Kyrie gives birth to a beautiful baby girl, I reconnect with my father’s first daughter, Cynthia. I met Cynthia in the 80’s when I was a kid and she had just married. I never remained in touch. My father had a family in the Philippines I heard about. I knew my Filipino siblings names and their mother’s name but really nothing about them. I receive a friend request two nights ago on Facebook and we start corresponding right away. I instantly am able to connect the names and who they are. So many Arenas’s! I have 8 more nieces and nephews in addition to the 6 I already have. I have 2 brothers and a sister in addition to the brother and sister I have always had in my life. My oldest brother, Arthur died 2 years ago at age 52 and holds a striking resemblance to my father. My father died at 58. He has a beautiful family and a very sweet wife. Cynthia has 4 children, 2 grown and 2 at home. We are looking forward to our youngest boys (now cousins) meeting. My youngest brother lives in the UK and has two children.
There have been many holes in the story growing up. I remember my father going to the Philippines twice and for what reason I have no idea. I never thought about it and only did when I’d come across the postcard he had sent me that I saved. He always wanted me to see the Philippines but as a child my mother would never allow it. I, too have always wanted to visit and find my Filipino roots. I started the process in 2009 when I met with my godfather who at the time was the closest link I had to my Filipino side. He connected me to a former friend and colleague of my father’s. We emailed a few times and he wanted to get me in touch with my father’s first wife – a friend of his. I thought that would be awkward because my understanding was that my father abandoned his first family and why in the world would they want anything to do with me? So I stopped emailing and decided I’d figure it out on my own later. I continue to have a nagging feeling to go to the Philippines and meet my family soon. Maybe before my godfather dies? He is in his 80’s. Where do I start? Maybe I’d sign up for the Ironman in the Philippines. The only way I can understand. Have a destination triathlon and go from there. Hmmmm doesn’t seem right. Life continues, the nagging feeling continues and I go one with my life.
So those holes in the story, that virtual family. I always liked knowing I had another sister and brothers out there. But that was it. They were “out there somewhere.” Not a reality. Except for Cynthia who I met once when I was 10. As I get older and the importance of family becomes even more apparent, the out there transforms to the here and now. And Here I am. I see a beautiful picture of my father, his first wife and the children, apparently mostly grown. They are a family- what appears to be a happy and complete family. What was “out there” is a solid reality. Perhaps my father didn’t necessarily abandon them or perhaps he did. That is why he returned to the Philippines. Still many holes but more complex than I ever knew.
Knowing about my Filipino family doesn’t necessarily feel like it is about my need to know or fill the holes but to connect the family- help my children to know that they have a very large family and know the importance of family. I love discovering that my children have 8 more cousins, more aunts and uncles. I want their whole family to be the “here and now” and not the “out there somewhere virtual family” for them.
So am I discovering my roots here and not in the Philippines? Traveling to the Philippines seems so wonderful yet so overwhelming. I always envisioned myself flying there alone and dropping myself in the middle of Manila and spending months traversing the country and finding clues to my roots. But more and more my roots seem to be in front of my eyes. I am in the here and now of finding my roots. Roots means family and many of them are in the States. I think traveling there is the finishing touch.
What a way to figure out the meaning of life and family.
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