No More, Officially

Yesterday, the construction began. I woke up to the sound of a breaking house crying for mercy. With a mug of freshly brewed coffee, I watched from my sister’s gate as heavy metals savagely break the walls of the house where I grew up.

I winced as the morning air carried the dust and sound of crunching wood. Nails screeched in protest as they were pulled away one by one to yank the galvanized steel roof.

My mom was already awake and sitting just outside the gate unperturbed by the carnage. I sat beside her as we sip our hot beverage together watching the destruction of the place we once called home.

I was happy. We were doing an upgrade to a home that I am going to be proud. I was sad. We are losing a cozy home that has seen a lot of events that taught us the value of life.

“Matatapos sila bukas. Tapos, maghuhukay na para sa pundasyon.” My mom unemotionally explained.

I answered with a silent sip on my mug.

I had an early lunch and went to the gym. I did my 30 minute cardio, 40 minute abs workout and my usual Monday chest – biceps routine. By the time I’m back, our house was reduced to rubble. The whole 2nd floor was gone and most of the 1st was just a pile of wood, steel and boulders.

My sister, who took the pleasure of being our gracious host for the next 3 months, offered her guestroom and her son’s room for us to stay in. Mom, my youngest sister, our trusty helper and I stayed at the guestroom while my other sister, her hubby and their daughter made my little nephew’s room their own. Since my work week starts at 2.30am the day after, I washed up and made a beeline to the guestroom’s couch to catch my z’s.

Or at least I tried.

Every time I open the door to an either sweet dream or beautiful nightmare, a Beyonce worthy noise will wake call me back to the real world thanks to the contractors and their mighty powerful tools.
 
The end result was a very grumpy and sleepy elf.

I went to work with very little sleep and even very little patience. I hailed a cab and slept the whole way to my office in Eastwood hoping what little sleep I get will change my mood.

The moment I sat in my station, I knew a tension crept through my cluster like a cold wash. My workmates felt it too as most of them skipped the normal greeting and carried on with their work. I took my coffee mug out of my pedestal, washed it and filled it with a fresh brew piping in the nearby empty station turned pantry. While I waited for my computer to boot up, I took a warm sip and was glad that at least it shaved off some of my unusual edge a bit.

Thank God for coffee.

No.

Thank God for freshly brewed coffee.

In times like this, I need a fresh pot of good quality brew. Anything less will do nothing more than release the devil in me.

3 hours and a refill later, I was starting to get that good vibes. I’m starting to get warm all over. The usual jester is starting to crawl out of me. By lunch, I was almost my usual self.

I struggled through the last few hours but left the office with just 4 backlogs. Not bad for a day that started in a bad mood.

I went straight to the gym but I can feel an unusual tiredness half way through my cardio. I step off the treadmill and tried to get the most out of my abs workout and skipped my leg work out all together.

I went home and was welcomed by an almost empty lot. Our entire house was gone save some old but re-usable timbers and slightly rusty roofs which is being removed and transported to a nearby junk shop while everything that can’t be recycled is being burned.

Our house is officially no more.

I walked into my sister’s house feeling a part of me was lost forever.

And as I inhale the smoky air, I knew that there’s an empty space in my heart now... a void that can never be filled.