to live, to love, to learn, to leave a legacy… and to laugh along the way
The experiences I gathered taught me that war is not composed solely of heroic battles, dramatic victories, or thrilling near-death escapes that we see in the movies. It is also made up of empty seats at family tables. Of birthdays spent far from home. Of children who know their fathers only through photographs. Of friendships ended abruptly by a burst of gunfire. Of brave men making decisions that unknowingly become their last.
Fifty years have lapsed in a heartbeat, yet I can still smell the pine-scented air of the Academy, and feel the frantic thumping in my chest as we marched down those “51 steps.” We were just boys then – naive, unsure of ourselves, and miles away from the families who waved us goodbye at Camp Aguinaldo or elsewhere. We didn’t know that we would be stripped of our civilian antics and molded into the leaders we would later be. Today, the echoes of those barking orders still reverberate as cherished stories of old men, but the fire lit that fateful April Fools’ Day will never waver.
Life doesn’t need to be complicated to be fulfilling; it just needs a dash of adventure, a bit of competition, and a creative mind to capture it all. My playing days may be over. As my Papa used to say: I used to be an all-around athlete, but now the only athlete left in me is my athlete’s foot! But the passion for the game – and the stories behind it – will remain as strong as ever.
From a challenging childhood with a family that faced adversity, my parents instilled values of resilience and strength. Their love and sacrifices fueled my passion, particularly for sports, guiding me to become what I have become today.
I’m grateful for those early days of sun and games, for the friendships that added so much color and excitement into my life, and for the teachers and mentors who showed me that effort and heart can carry you far. I carry those memories with me as my little badge of honor, trusting that the future holds brighter paths to run, write, and remember those good old days.
If I close my eyes, I can still hear the echo of those days – the creak of the tartanilya’s wheels, my mother’s whispered prayers tucked into the din of the church bells, even the frenzied sounds of children playing during recess. Those early memories provide moments of innocent laughter that fill my corner of the world with so much life. These moments of loving and learning settled deep into my young child’s heart.
Color My World 