Letters To Marge (Chapter 24): A Tale of Two Cities and a Mobile Home

This was taken on New Year's Eve
of 2011 (So that's December 31, 2010),
just to be clear.

Dearest Margaret,

You are a child of two cities, Manila and Baguio City.  Three, if you include San Diego, where we had you retrieved from a freezer tank, thawed like bacon, then shoved into your mom. But more on that some other time.

At this point, the three of us have been on the road a lot. Yup, A LOT. We drive up and down so daddy (yours truly) can keep his little ad house running in Manila, while doing his share of work for the family business in Baguio City. Lots of people i know maintain more than one business, but i’m probably the only guy i know who’s regularly involved in two companies that are literally 5 hours apart. i know what i put you and mom through. And i am both grateful and apologetic at the same time. To both you and your mom, but mostly your mom since you didn't know jack about what the heck was going on.

So your mother has two houses to take care of, one with a nice garden and lots of flowers, a big kitchen, two living rooms, and an old piano she has no idea how to play. The other house is smack in cosmopolitan Manila, a bit tiny, but is our very first home, and your mom really poured her heart into making it a nice place to live. Lucky her, huh?

So which one is home?

Well... at some point, when one is on the road so often, and one can literally choose from a whole bunch of addresses and know that one will still get his mail (is there still mail by the time you read this?), it becomes almost bothersome to have to label just one place “home.” But for me, it no longer matters where the roof i’m under is in. As long as you and your mom are with me, then i know i’m home.

In a world that gets smaller every day, we often don’t have the time to settle our asses in just one couch long enough to call it home. So always keep tabs on the people you love and love you back even more (oh my, guess who those are?), wherever there are people who love you, who will take you in and accept you for everything... yup, you guessed it... you’re home, kid.

Come home to us anytime, baby.

Love,

Dad