Mist of Memories

What Marawi City means to me is evoked by vivid, picture-clear memories of years spent in this lovely town in Lanao.

What it means to me...

My father was still with us.
Me having lunch or baon wrapped in Reynolds wrap and walking in MSU grounds and golf course.
Fog all around especially in the morning and late afternoon.
Me speaking Muslim language fluently, but I can't recall even a single word I spoke now.
Strolling in a dairy farm and drinking ultra-fresh milk straight from the cows tits --- nah, just kidding.
Place where I met the first crush in my young life, paging Harold hahaha! See, I still can remember his full name. How he looks like. And mind you, that was in first grade, huh.
I cried to death on my first day in school at Integrated Lab. School (ILS) just because... see
I never went through any kinder or prep school. Just went straight to Grade 1. Maybe I was ultra- scared or what, I will never forget that day.
I went to school on my first day not knowing how to write or even spell my name. Hahaha.
Watching 'Thumbelina" in a theater somewhere.
Visiting skulls and fetus jars in the Museum and Biology Dept. of MSU.
Pigging on food and Choco drinks that Pa brings home from MSU functions.
Having a gay tita who works at MSU Cafe make your table size choco, birthday cake.
Knowing what a 'frat' means, my father being a Chancellor of sorts in one of them.
Walking around in our small eatery in my undies at 8 years of age. Hah!

And... remembering how I cried when I learned of my father's death.