I've been reading a lot.

Which is a good thing. One of the many good things a BUM can have.

So I've been rereading Bird by Bird (Anne Lamott) and once again I come across something she wrote which I swore to never forget but forgot anyway. Well, not really forgot-forgot but it kind of, ok, I forgot.

She said that in order to write well (whatever writing well means), YOU HAVE TO START FROM YOUR CHILDHOOD. She didn't exactly say that because as I remember, someone said that to her or perhaps she read it from somewhere. It will really be easier for me to BE SURE about what I write IF I COULD JUST PLEASE GET THE BOOK AND CHECK.

Well, anyway, START FROM CHILDHOOD.

The moment you read this, memories will flood your head. I'm not sure with you but it was what happened to me.

Gumamelas, Barbie dolls swimming in the fish pond, basketball brawls, pillows under the bed, giggles, the smell of baby powder, Dada's nails scratching our back, new things for a new school year, oooh, the NEW pink pencil case! cartoon character shaped ice creams, Aspilets, bubbles! etcetera... It goes on.

And so I couldn't write about all of them because each memory FITS into an entirely different moment in time.

So for today I will tell you about Summer 1998. I was 17 16 and there were a few days before college started. Yeah, that isn't exactly a childhood memory. (Duh? 17 16?) So ok, here's what happened:

We were in Boracay and it was a balmy night. Papa and Kuya were playing billiards, and I remember I was walking by the billiard place when Kuya saw me and said we walk together, to where? We didn't know. So the memory brings me on a bamboo sled, much like a balsa or a papag. It was being pulled by a carabao.

Now, I must be honest and tell you that I cannot anymore remember HOW we got on that thing and who else we were with. But it IS a vivid memory. At least those moments when we were being pulled on a papag over tiny rocks (because the sound is still clear). And the rickety-rickety sound of the wheels. And the carabao's tail. We were on our backs looking up and all we could say was WOW, WOW, WOW.

There were zillion stars overhead.

Glittering stars. Many stars. Like sand on a beach. Like if you take a handful you wouldn't notice if there were less of them.

No city lights to drown them out and they were there prettily looking down on us.

And the memory we had at that time was that WE NEVER SAW ANYTHING LIKE THIS IN MANILA.

And then, WOW, WOW, WOW.

So now I can't be sure how the ride ended or where it took us or how the hell we got back to our cottage. And I must be TOTALLY honest with you to tell you that Kuya doesn't remember that anymore.

But I do. And I'm sure. Those were stars. And it was a memory.

And I can't think of any other memory that made me feel like a CHILD that comes close to THAT MOMENT IN TIME.