...i have never been a material girl...

When someone asks me, what is your most beloved possession? (exlcuding my son of course, you cannot actually own a child can you?)I would answer, my shoebox full of letters froms friends, family and loved ones.
It’s the month of March in Holland. And the sun is shining outside, beautiful weather. It is on days like these that a large number of the Dutch population massively goes outdoors to try to catch even a slight ray of that sunlight. It is perfectly understandable, in a country where the sun only shines 2 months a year. I have lived my life here on the land of tulips longer than I did on the Philippines. Though at some points my pinay heart, thus culture, still resides in me, today is that day that I show my Dutch side. Thus, as like the majority of the Dutch people I too anxiously go outside to feel those sunrays on my face. In my case going outside means my backyard. I like my home. I have lived all my life in Amsterdam and I actually remember a time that I did not want to leave the place. Living somewhere else was never an option. I loved the city. It was always busy, noisy, crowded. It was alive. Amsterdam is one of those cities that never slept. And I loved it. Until 2 years ago, I found this construction project for new houses outside Amsterdam. My Lief and I were looking for a new house at that time. It is the kind of place where families with their 3 children lived and where there was a little supermarket where the cashier unblushingly tells you about her grandchildren while she puts your groceries through the cash register. Those are the kind of places I feared being a city girl and all. Nevertheless, I showed the project to my Lief. Don’t ask me how and why. I just did. We went to the place to have a look at it and I immediately fell in love. I told him: I want this one, next to the water, with a garden surrounding the whole house. In the Philippines I grew up near the sea, we had a house on the beach and a garden as far as the eye could see. At least that is how I remembered it. Therefore, after living in apartments in Amsterdam with only a small balcony as my garden, I promised myself to work hard, earn enough money later to have that house and garden I have been missing since I left the Philippines. And as said, after years of studying, nights of working as a waiter to pay my school stuff and later on years of hard work in an office where I felt so imprisoned all the time, we finally got the financial parts going on and got our dream house. So as said, here I am living on one of those dreadful villages I used to fear with a beautiful garden surrounding my house and swans coming over almost every day at the water next to my garden to ask for bread. So today is an extra beautiful day. The sun is shining, the birds are singing and I actually hear a rooster crowing from a distance. That would normally frighten me, as I only knew roosters crowing in the Philippines. There is something I know others do not, however. My neighbors who adopted children from Thailand have a rooster as a pet in their garden. Leading to roosters crowing in our neighborhood every day. So there I was, reading a book, an ice tea in my hand on my duyan (hammock) in the backyard. All alone. My son is at the grand folks today for the whole day. It is their day with him giving me some time to do all the household chores. My Lief is at work and will not be home until late tonight. So yes there I was. And I could not help but feel so alone in this beautiful house I help create with my loved ones. You can have the most beautiful things in the world, but if there is nobody to share it with, it will not mean much at all. I have known this all my life. My mom raised me that way. I was never a material girl. I never gave so much interest in jewelries; the only jewelry I own is my engagement ring. My clothes miss all the labels of Prada or Oscar de la renta. Yes, I do have an addiction to bags, but most of them I bought from markets for 5 euros each. I was enjoying the sun in my beautiful garden but there was something missing. So I picked up the phone, dialed my Lief’s number and told him how much I miss him.