There is this one resort club of which we have been members since over two decades ago, before it was even fully constructed. It is literally between mountains and overlooks the country’s smallest volcano within a lake, Taal.
Whenever we had guests from out of town, we’d take them there for swimming—just an hour drive away. It was convenient to take our then growing kids there for a swim, too, almost every month.
And because it is up in the mountains, you could whisper to the clouds. Embraced by tall trees and various flora, the air is cool and the view (especially of the volcano) is breathtaking.
My late mom loved it there. She could do one lap, swimming backstroke or breast stroke, in her 80s without panting. My foster brother from the US loved it so much, he wanted to buy a house there.
The kids have grown up and son #2, after getting married, left to live in the US. But each time he and his family—now with our beloved grandson, Adrian—visit, we’d spend sometime up in he clouds.
In fact, we just arrived home after an overnight stay in what used to be our favorite R&R place. I say “was” because “progress” has mangled it. The one-hour drive has stretched to three hours because of horrible traffic. The view along the way is blocked by monstrous condominium buildings. And the place itself now has a tall hotel, instead of quaint cottages with winding stairs carpeted with green grass.
The saving grace is of course Adrian, whom his parents left with us for a week as they visit other places. He and I enjoyed swimming in the pool where he used to float on a plastic raft. Now he’s a swimmer far better than his aging Amah.
Sons #1 and #2 were elsewhere, perhaps having a massage or traipsing the hills. Tony, with his frail health, is now unable to navigate the pool and the jacuzzi, once his favorite haunts, but enjoyed our room with a book.
It was at meal time when we got together, treasuring the time and having fun while watching Adrian enjoy exotic Philippine dishes like inasal, kare-kare, and bibingka. He is still lapping it all up—not having visited the place in three years, a mighty long time if one were to consider his physical changes and ours.
In fact, we just arrived home after an overnight stay in what used to be our favorite R&R place. I say “was” because “progress” has mangled it. The one-hour drive has stretched to three hours because of horrible traffic. The view along the way is blocked by monstrous condominium buildings. And the place itself now has a tall hotel, instead of quaint cottages with winding stairs carpeted with green grass.
The saving grace is of course Adrian, whom his parents left with us for a week as they visit other places. He and I enjoyed swimming in the pool where he used to float on a plastic raft. Now he’s a swimmer far better than his aging Amah.
Sons #1 and #2 were elsewhere, perhaps having a massage or traipsing the hills. Tony, with his frail health, is now unable to navigate the pool and the jacuzzi, once his favorite haunts, but enjoyed our room with a book.
It was at meal time when we got together, treasuring the time and having fun while watching Adrian enjoy exotic Philippine dishes like inasal, kare-kare, and bibingka. He is still lapping it all up—not having visited the place in three years, a mighty long time if one were to consider his physical changes and ours.
This has been our latest swimming season, hopefully not our last. But hearing Tony, the boys and I pine for what was—well, it might be our season’s end.
Seasons change with time, so do we. Only One endures forever.
“The grass withers and the flowers fall, because the breath of the Lord blows on them. Surely the people are grass. The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.” (Isaiah 40: 7-8 NIV)
Seasons change with time, so do we. Only One endures forever.
“The grass withers and the flowers fall, because the breath of the Lord blows on them. Surely the people are grass. The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.” (Isaiah 40: 7-8 NIV)
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