The sunlight seeps brightly through my window, caressing my eyes until I am awake. I curl my toes deeper into my sheets as the morning breeze makes its way in. Sunday is my favourite day of the week. When I hear my parents’ laughter from the kitchen, all my anxiety from my strenuous week melts away. This Sunday laughter is like welcoming fanfare in a house bellowing with silence throughout the week.
It wasn’t always like this—not seeing each other despite us living together—but I suppose this is what happens when setting roots a long way from home. We have new and different routines and responsibilities now. Life here in Canada isn’t the same—there are no parties and competitive karaoke, three-month-long Christmas celebrations, street parades, or Jollibee.
At half past nine, my father knocks on my door and calls, “Sam, mangaon na (Sam, it’s time to eat). ” The smell of freshly cooked omelette and steamed rice beckons me to the dining table, which my mother has set.
“Mata na imong manghod? (Is your brother awake?)” she asks.
“Should be up in a second,” I answer.
My brother walks out of his room sluggishly in his worn-out red hoodie. “You’re up early,” I say to him.
He smirks. “Makin’ sure you don’t stuff everything up inside those cheeks.”
“Sige na, lingkod namo (Go ahead and sit down),” my dad says.
With every bite, we exchange stories and talk about all the places we plan to go to.
“We can bus around Europe,” My mom says to us, her mouth curving into a playful smile.
“I really want to go to Santorini,” I chime in.
“Soon, when all is settled for us. But today, where should we go?”
My father, in his mischievous way, says, “Ay! Wala, manlimpyo ta!” (Nowhere! We’ll clean the house!)
Laughter fills the room, a sound that echoes between the walls, reminding me to relish the moment.
As Sunday gives way to the night, I often wonder why the best days seem to end the quickest. I lie in bed anxiously, arms crossed over my head as I stare at the ceiling, waiting for the next day. It wasn’t always like this, but at least I’ll always have Sunday to be thankful for a home away from home.
This first-person piece was originally published in print in January 2022.