Family Time

Last night, we were all gathered in my parent's room, relaxing after a long day. My dad just came home from his trip to Thailand. All 3 of us (My sister, my dad, and I) were sprawled on the bed, eating potato chips and lazing around. A couple of adorable tote bags were spread out on the bed and my sis and I deciding which one of us would take which bag. They were his pasalubong. My mom was at her desk making to-do lists, arranging papers, and whatnot. The room was a mess - there was laundry on the floor, an assortment of Thai nuts and snacks were spread out on the table, my dad's luggage stood at a corner still half empty, and none of us had had our baths yet. My mom didn't seem to mind - not yet anyway. It was just one of those days where everyone was in a light mood. It was family time.

Just a few hours earlier, I was in tears. I felt lost. I knew perfectly well why I came here. And somehow, I knew that this was the right thing to do. And yet, no amount of reasoning with myself would calm this sort of panic I feel everytime I think of it.

I do know one thing, though. Family time like that of last night feels right.

Cute, huh?

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