There were too much bitter feelings between her mom and our household because of her decision to forego studying in favor of being a baby maker that it was a mutual decision that she isolate herself in her boyfriend’s camp.
It wasn’t until January that they [Faith and her ma] started visiting us at home again. Actually, Tata initiated the healing of the harms when he’d go to where Faith now lived and take her with him when he drives me to the jeep stop on the way to work — a ritual which they share until now.
~Sigh~ Our little girl has grown and she now has an extensive vocabulary that sometimes amuses us because she manages to substitute one word for the other. Literaly visualizing what she says can be funny. Though we tried to tell her how to pronounce things properly, she has a penchant for reverting to her original archive. Probably she senses that she could elicit giggles from us when she does stuff like these.
There was this one time when Tata was cleaning one of the ponds and the resident turtle floated away to avoid being rained down with debris. Faith was there and exclaimed [in Cebuano]: “Look, look at the baul, Ma My! Look at the baul!” Tata and I had to chuckle. A baul, in Cebuano, is a plot of land cultivated for subsistence farming. Meanwhile, in Tagalog, a baul is a sea chest.
One breakfast, Faith was there and kept asking for a check up. Her playmates and her usually role played and I thought she wants to play doctor. I pretended to feel her head for “fever” and pronounced she was ok. Yet she ignored what I was doing and insisted on check up. It dawned on Tata that Faith was asking for the ketchup bottle. It was out of her reach at the other end of the table. We can just shake our heads in amusement when she quited down after being handed the ketchup bottle and proceeded slathering the contents on her sunny side up eggs. Today, at home, we say “Please pass the check up.” And, oh, we still clap our hands after saying “Amen” for the grace before meals. Faith insists that we do.