Long-distance Love

I talked to Adrian on the phone this morning (evening in Michigan, USA) and I was surprised to find his voice “grown-up.”  His tiny-tot rasp is gone.  What I heard was a clear, crisp voice of a little boy turning four, in four and a half weeks.  

My first question was, “What are you doing, Adrian?”  I keep forgetting his parents' request for us to speak to him in Filipino.

He replied, “Ano po?”  (Rough translation: What was that again, po?)  Po is a Filipino word of respect for an older person.

I almost fell off my seat.

Recovering, I asked the same question in Filipino, “Anong ginagawa mo, Adrian?”
“Kung anu-ano po,” he replied. (Rough translation: This and that, po.) 

That stumped me and I didn't know what to say next.  Adrian was born in Michigan but his parents are making sure he will remain bilingual.

The thing about long-distance communication is, you can't think straight, nor hear right, nor speak well. And much is lost in translation.     

Adrian is not scheduled to come for a vacation till August (that's a long five months from now)  when his mom, who is taking her master's degree, will be on her end-term break, and when his dad could take time off from the hospital where he works as a physician.

Up until then, I will stare at this photo which I took when Adrian was with us last year.  How much bigger would his slippers be when he comes?  Maybe closer to the size of the big one—his Angkong's (Chinese honorific meaning, father of my father).

It's a thrilling thought: In August, a bundle of grace will come!

Adrian's latest photo, taken by his mom