Mother of 2

In our almost 2 years of marriage, my husband and I have never been out of touch with one another. Even when he went abroad for a month, he had to get himself a blackberry just so we could stay in touch 24×7.

When his company sent him to an overnight seminar, we still managed to stay in touch. But that should be normal for two people who love each other and are married to each other.

What is not normal is not hearing from each other for an extended period of time especially when you are not sure where the other is at.

A few days ago, I dropped off my husband at Glorietta 3. He was attending an event that was being held for gamers like himself (please don’t ask me for details as I am clueless about all that gaming stuff). He had mentioned that he was low on battery already but that it was ok since he was only staying until 10 or 11pm. I didn’t mind. I planned to wait up for him anyway as he says he was just going to take a cab home.

And so I went home already in anticipation of a long night spent in front of my computer.  I was able to fill my time with some surfing and watching late night tv that I really did not notice that so much time had passed. It was already 11pm when I tried to call my husband’s mobile phone. Hmm… “cannot be reached” was the message I got. I guessed that his battery finally gave up on him and settled down to wait another hour. I wasn’t really worried.

After another hour passed with no word, that was the time my heart was already pounding. All the time that the clock ticked I would dial his number. No answer. I dialed again. No answer. That isn’t like him. It isn’t like him at all. I looked at the clock again. It was already going on 2am and I imagined that the places in Glorietta would already be closed by then. Where was my husband??

I searched the net. Yes, I did. Since he was at an event with other bloggers and other gamers, there should be something or someone out there who would know something. I was right. I got in touch with one of his friends from his clan and was told that the game had ended hours ago. Yes my husband was there but left shortly after the event. Where was my husband??

It seems like such a short time had passed by but in reality three hours had passed and I had cried a bucket of tears. I don’t know where my husband was. I could not get in touch with him. I felt he had gotten into an accident. Maybe his phone was snatched? Fat chance as he was carrying a more expensive gadget and that was his pentax DSLR. Where was my husband??

I looked at the clock again to realize it was already 5 am. And yet no word. I was at wit’s end. I was about to call my brother so he could drive me to Makati to look for my missing husband. All the while I hoped he was just somewhere drunk and his friends probably didn’t want him to leave in such a condition. That was wishful thinking.

Just before six am, with my chest heavy and my eyes swollen from all the crying, I looked out the window and glimpsed a familiar face. It was my husband! I looked at his face and bawled out like a crazy lady… more out of relief than grief. It was as if a huge weight was lifted. I forgot all about my initial anger, paranoia, and worry. Only one thing was important, I have my husband back.

I recall a similar incident that caused such emotions to hit me and that was when my previous yaya got drunk and brandished a knife at my other yaya and the landlord of the apartment where I was staying. It was the only time that I felt that my own life would end as well.

Side note: Apparently, he and his gamer friends were picked up by patroling policemen at Reposo on their way their way to a bar. But that’s his story to tell.