Coffee Thursdays Just Brewing Thoughts
Of babies and running a marathon
I stare at my black coffee as I wait for my college friends to arrive. It is comely and a reunion of stories waiting to heave. The couple Justin and Lariza turns up as Renelyn followed after the first swig. Almae and Hedric hurry just in time when we are about to order more drinks. The conversation greets with misses and longings of once laid back friends and confronting the present with responsibility. The conversation revolved around their roles as first time moms, dads and having babies. I sit back with admiration and listen. These people unconditionally now ordain the future as they envision in a baby. How selfless they become talking about their little angels. They gave up personal dreams and perhaps wants in order to give it all to their children. I think a natural instinct consummates at this stage. As a parent, who seeing a piece of a pie would not think of his/her hunger but brings it home to the child.
The whole night was about babies -- from the cost of diapers and milk, the tantrums and even showing pictures how an infant progresses each day on record. There was even argument on whose features predominate in the baby's face. We laughed and kept on with the old adage, whoever is in love the most during procreation; there it reflects in the appearance. We moved on to parenting and discipline, they suggested on being strict and impose some traditional values; to spare the rod, or spoil the child. The night ended early; it was different from the usual nights back in college because they left a big part of their lives in their homes. Now, they have babies waiting for their good night kisses in bed.
I woke up the next day battling with myself, like a child pulling a cover to hide from the alarm. At 5 a.m. I desperately grapple a mug to make a warm coffee. I need it strongly as I will run the marathon today. I challenge myself to finish the task. Getting there is not as hard as preparing to go. There are flashes of once I dream of running the race and victory awaits me, I see myself still running. Furthermore, I will achieve this one step at a time but before anything else, I must not be late for the start of the marathon at 6 a.m. in Freedom Grandstand.
I made it to the finish line, with ramblings, catching breaths and thoughts of giving up. But I guess in the game of life, the great scorer judges us not on how we win or lose the game, but how we played. I succeed the morning marathon but I am suffering now with cramps and delayed onset of muscle soreness.
As I end another day, I close my eyes and ask myself:
Does a soldier go to war in order to kill the enemy? No, he goes in order to die for his country. Does a wife want to show her husband how happy she is? No, she wants him to see how devoted she is, how she suffers in order to make him happy. Does the husband go to work thinking he will find personal fulfillment there? No, he is giving his sweat and tears for the good of the family. And so it goes on: sons give up their dreams to please their parents; parents give up their lives in order to please their children.
I then realize, pain and suffering are used to justify the one thing that should bring us only joy: and that is Love.
Love is the reason that keeps all of us running.
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