Let’s Sit And Talk Awhile

We always joke about it with our cousins—in family gatherings, when it’s time to go home, our parents would take so much time saying goodbye. It would start in the kitchen or dining room, for the host would always be there, cleaning up or instructing the maids to pack food for the guests. Then the people would move to the living room, talking the whole time. And then everyone would inch their way to the door. And the talking would continue when they stop at the gate. Even when we’re already inside our cars and waving goodbye, there will be last minute jokes, reminders and instructions. We called the whole thing “Stations of the Cross” and would last anywhere from 15 minutes to about half an hour.

And now I have empirical proof that it’s a time-honored Boholano tradition.

Just inside our gate there’s a sitting area on both sides, so guests and family can park by the gate and, well, chat and chismis I suppose.

And just outside our door is another seat. It used to be a wooden bench but when the occupants of the house got older, they replaced it with a softer sofa. (By the way, that Santa Claus decoration has been there for ages. I never had the heart to tell my aunt—who bought that thing—to take it down.)

All those years of going home to Bohol and I never bothered to make the connection until now. It’s a time-honored tradition, but unfortunately, I’ve learned through much heartache and pain that sometimes the best goodbyes are the swiftest, simplest, shortest ones.