These are the "little" things...

...that means so much!

We've just moved to the third floor. And it's like a penthouse! A perfect room for a claustrophobic like me. (Not really claustrophobic.. But often I can't breathe in places where there's limited space. Maybe just being silly.) It feels so good up there. So spacious. We spent all spare times last week to move our stuffs up to the new room.

Yesterday, just as I'm getting ready for night shift work, I went up the top deck (double deck bed) to get my bag. I looked at my dad who was fixing the door lock. Just before Christmas, he was hospitalized. After a week he's back home, and it's quite a relief he's back and having the energy and mood to do regular things.

My mom, who doesn't always get a day-off, decided to spend the day sewing pillow cases for us. I stayed there for a long while. Years ago, this wouldn't have been a rare sight. When I was growing up I used to spend afternoons watching as my mom works with her sewing machine. She's really good at it, and lots of our neighbors orders curtains, pillow cases, sofa covers, dresses, even gowns. But that was long ago.

She's now a program coordinator for an NGO, a volunteer at our local church, and a secretary for the health clinic, and the first Kagawad on our barangay and a full-time student in a state university, and to top all that, full-time-and-hands-on mother to the four of us. (Believe me, the list could go on but it would be too long.) So yeah, you can't expect her to spend her day-offs sewing. She did for us anyway.

I sat there and remembered when we were younger. Jc would ask my mom to sew dresses for her Barbie doll. My mom was able to make several trendy outfits for her doll. Little Jace sure was delighted. I remembered schooldays when my teacher asked us to bring a mini weighing scale. Everybody else in the class had store-bought ones. But mine was special. My dad made it for me, and it looked like a wooden piece of art. Jc borrowed it later when her teacher asked their class to bring one each. The teacher was so impressed by it that she didn't return it. And the countless costumes and gowns my mom sewed whenever we needed one for a school activity. And the arcs my dad built for us (almost all of which are Jc's =} ) when joining contests. And yes, my Thumbelina fairy wings. Who would forget that? Twelve years went by and I still haven't.

Outside, everything was quiet. It was siesta time for our neighbors. I could only hear the noise from my mom's sewing machine, and my dad's hammer. I've rarely felt as peaceful as this.