Ana and Nick

It's just amazing how family ties could be broken so suddenly. One day, whole families of your relatives pack up and migrate to far-away countries. Cousins graduate from college, look for a job abroad, and the next thing you know, you only get to see them in once-in-a-bluemoon family reunions. I'm not trying to sound too melodramatic about it, rather I'm stating it matter-of-factly. Because really, that's the way it happens. I've experienced it plenty of times, not only with family, but also with dear friends who have chosen to stick it out in foreign shores. Over time, the best scenario would be you finding Christmas cards at your doorstep, getting long-distance phone calls on your birthday, or opening an email from unknown origins that sometimes you would even mistake it for spam. There is, however, an exciting part to it. When, how and where you will see them again is always uncertain, that when the next encounter finally comes, it could be full of surprises. And it's just amazing when you realize that such ties have not been broken a bit. Rather, they have simply taken a new form.

Ana, my cousin, and her English husband Nick came to visit me in Malaga last week. It was a reunion after years of not seeing each other. In fact, I can't remember exactly the last time I'd seen her. For sure I was in her wedding in Manila about 10 years ago. Maybe I saw her again after the wedding, on the few occasions that she would come home for a short vacation, but I'm pretty sure our succeeding encounters had been rather brief. She left the Philippines in 1992, worked in Hong Kong for several years, then the next thing I heard was that she would tie the knot with Nick. I was quite young then that I didn't realize she was going to the UK for good, or at least I didn't realize what that meant.

When I went to pick them up at the airport last week, she was so surprised I had grown so big! She had to literally look up to me to see how my features had changed, and I had to bend down a mile to give her a squeeze. The Ana that I saw was not greatly different from the one I had known. Sure, she seemed to have put a couple of pounds more. Sure, she was a bit tanned, and looked a bit more mature. But really, she still retained this bubbly attitude and that positive aura she would always generously exude to everybody around her.

During their short stay, we managed to go out together often enough. We went to Calle Larios to dine a couple of times. During the day, they set out on their own to visit the museums and the Alcazaba, and they rented a car to drive in the suburbs and go to Granada to see the Alhambra. On their last night, I brought them to my flat and cooked dinner, which unfortunately, turned out a disaster. All this time, we were reminiscing a lot about our days in Manila, that at some point Nick looked sleepy because of all the family talk. Already, many years had passed, so sometimes we would disagree over names, places, dates and how events had indeed taken place. But all the same it felt good to remember: events like the Baguio outing with Marie and Dan, and our days in Sta. Ana and Paco when our families used to live in one house, and symbols like the duhat tree in Ampy's house, Ate Soly's cat, and their helper Rose. For sure, years later from now, we will talk about their visit to Malaga, and look back at what a great time we had.

On their last day, Ana and Nick came to the flat again in the morning to drop off a guidebook they had borrowed. When it was time to say goodbye, I was quite unsure how to call my cousin - Ate Ana, or simply Ana - as I felt slightly embarrassed. I was already too dambuhala to call her such. But then she said she was still my big sister, all 4-or-so feet of her, and that if ever I needed help, I should not hesitate to call her. I gave her a beso and a huge squeeze. They were flying back to Winchester that day, miles away from Malaga, but I wasn't worried a bit. I was fully aware that circumstances change, but some ties are hard to break. She is still my big sister, and I am still Ton-ton to her.