Last week, I asked my students in my Essay Writing class to write a short narrative paragraph that will illustrate the line “my parents are on the edge of breaking up.” While they’re busy working on their narratives, I also tried to come up with one and here’s what I wrote:
“My father was a machinist. That day, his voice was as loud as his “torno” while he was hurling invective at my mother who couldn’t even dare to face him for the fear that she would be directly hit or wounded by his words the moment she does.
I couldn’t really understand what they were talking, fighting about. All I could remember was that my father’s sentences all ended with “tanga.”
“Ikaw kasi ang tanga mo,” I heard my Papa said. Then I saw Mama turned and lifted her hand. It was then that I heard the sound that was more frightening than banging doors, breaking windows, thunders or even the strong and raging wind during Cosme – for the first time, she slapped my father on the face. Cosme’s vicious strength can be seen from the uprooted trees and electric posts and damaged houses. If Papa was hurt, then he had managed so well to hide his injury. His face remained blank.
“Mas tanga ka kasi nagpakasal ka sa tanga,” I heard my Mama retaliated before she stomped out of the kitchen, leaving my father staring at the tiled kitchen floor, and me sobbing. In front of me was a platter of rice, a bowl of tinola and fried galonggong – everything that Mama cooked for what could have been our last hearty dinner together. “