Sometimes in April

My current situation is in the boundaries of being a mess and trying to get out from that mess, honestly from this point I really don’t know what to do and where to go. After a lot of ups and downs for the past 2 years, I have faced the miserable turning points in my life that almost shattered the very foundations of my dying hope. But sometimes in April I would walk down the memory lane and try to live each and every moment where I used to be a joyful boy without worries torturing my mind. Sometimes in April I would bring back to life the moments I had with my grandmother before her tragic lost.

It has been 4 long years since I’ve been to my hometown. I would wonder how my beloved hometown looks now. I’m sure that many things have changed for the past 4 years-some houses might have gone, some places might have been developed or destroyed and some people I know might have already gone and all I can do here is to wonder what is going on there.

We would spend our vacation there when I was a boy, we would stay in our grandmother’s house and play around the backyard, we would run around all morning, climb the trees, feed the chickens and watch the wide rice fields as God paints the sky of His masterpiece each single afternoon while the birds fly by from afar creating a wonderful sight with the wind kissing my cheeks and at that moment I felt so close to nature, so close that I didn’t want it to end.

There is a river where I learned how to swim and it is also the place where my grandmother and me used to spend time together. She would wash the laundries there and I would search for crabs or play with my friends. My grandmother would tell me entertaining stories about a lot of things, we would eat our lunch on the huge rocks on the waters and we would go home in the afternoon. But first, we would chat with the people we would pass by living near the river. It was such a pleasant memory.

But after my grandmother passed away, those moments turned into just memories that would never happen again. They would bring me nostalgia and would visit me especially at the hard times of my life. I really miss my grandmother and the precious moments we’ve shared. I also miss my province where I have felt excessive happiness. But from this point, I have to build my own life, I have to make decisions that would sculpt my future, and I have to face the awful truths of being a man. But I’m still hoping that sometimes in April I would come home to my hometown and somehow relive the memories.

Sometimes in April, rain would come in the middle of a sunny day, replacing the sunny afternoon heat with the sound of angry raindrops on the roofs. Sometimes in April, I would believe that everything’s going to be all right in the middle of painful struggles, replacing the sufferings with the flame of hope caged by cold frustrations. And sometimes in April, I would just lie down and wonder what would life bring me in many Aprils to come.