As I sweep the room. I remember. The aroma of cooked sinigang The laughter of my parents while they giggle. Share stories. Prepare our lunch And eat together.
As I sweep the room. I laugh. For the playful times When my sisters rush to open presents during Christmas Day.
As I sweep the room. I look at the mirror. Days past. Years had come. My home is where my heart is.
As I type using my keyboard I reminisce Good old times The crazy ones The fast leaps of my life The slowness of cozy days The beauty of everyday
Since ‘91, I’ve been dreaming I’ve been trying I’ve been taking chances and life has been true, exciting, challenging and meaningful to me. Grateful, cheerful, hopeful. My keyboard knows it all.
“Are you awake?!”
Knock knock knock. Bang. Bang. Bang. A loud knocking sound just keeps on banging on my door.
“Yes, I’m coming!”
Another day as a baker. I usually wake at 3am to open the cafe. Check inventory. Bake. Bake. Bake.
My alarm is definitely my sister yelling to make sure I don’t doze off (as always)
“I don’t feel like opening the cafe, today Juana.” I said in a very sluggish tone.
“_Don’t mind the critics, Diana.” _ __
That’s my sister, Juana, my every supportive sibling who’s cheering me up on days I don’t feel like to.
We opened a bakeshop a year ago at 5th Street, famous for Asian buns and Vietnamese style Coffees.
5th street is where art meets culture in New York. It’s where creators roam around, get lots of pictures and spend a lot of time at a coffee shop.
“We just didn’t hit the targets last year.” In my negative and harsh voice tone.
This is me getting irritated every time I open the excel sheet to calculate if we even break even.
_“Are you sure Diana? Why bother with numbers?” _ __ __ She’s surprised why I’m acting this way so I explained:
_“We have lots of competition here. I want to open a big cafe and hire more staff. We’re small and I feel it’s limiting us to serve more.” _ __
My sister just hug me. Tightly. She feel my pain because I was laid off last year and baking has been my passion. And my comfort hobby.
“Ever heard about pop-ups?” My sister asked.
“Let’s invite partners or investors to help us. I think it’s about time.”
And I immediately reply: “_I’m afraid of these changes, Juana.” _
I added “_Being an accountant, every centavo is accounted for.” ___ __ _“You have to trust that it will, Diana. If you want to grow, we’ll have to let people help us.” _ __
I paused and reminisce the time when people lined up on our first day.
It was a fulfilling experience to serve Asian pastries in a Western neighborhood.
Yes we encountered lots of challenges too but my sister reminded me help is on its way. I just have to take it.
I kiss my sister and told her “c’mon let’s get ready. We’re open at 5th street and start accepting orders at 7am.”
When’s the last time you called?
To say hello, I’m okay
To tell a story, I’m listening
To make time, I’m free to talk
To invite someone, I’m here for you
To hear your voice, I’m at peace
Now and forever Your phone calls mean a lot It’s how our togetherness resonate Beyond distance, I feel you So will you pick up my call?
Get ready It’s time to stroll and roll. Should I fasten my seatbelt? Life is a beat and time is running fast. Yet, I took a pause. Well a lot of pauses. To make turns. Detour for awhile. Fill up my gas tank. and gaze. Gaze at how things were before Marvel on the present day. and make way for the Future. I took the road less traveled by and that has made all the difference. What’s your seatbelt story?
