Day 8: Libmanan

The cemetery left me worn out and just so utterly helpless.  I didn't know if I should just be content at having traveled all these miles and had paid a visit and said hello.  But I also felt sad at not knowing if I will ever come back and if so when it would be.  Then thoughts of  family and aging and death forcefully entered my mind and I was in a battle with myself to erase them.  Tormented with the thoughts of final goodbyes, I wanted to see everything, hug everyone and as much as I could, document everything.  I sat behind Daddy in the van and my camera clicked away at everything that he pointed to.  

"There" he said, "was my elementary school."

"There was our church."  (Unfortunately it was closed when we were there)

"There is the Bicol River."

For most of the sights, I don't remember what he said about them.  But I was not about to miss anything!  So my camera kept clicking.

  Daddy looked at everything... and although there was alot of excitement at seeing the old places, there was also the occasional "Ay, iba na." (Oh, it has changed)  There were many times where he sat silent, just looking and I wish that I had the ability to hear what was going on in his head.  We stopped and visited family that were not able to come to the reunion and birthday celebration.

My Aunt and Uncle's house that showed the beauty of old Libmanan architecture.

...an old sweetheart

and of course, the old ancestral home.

The home where everyone was born and lived is on the second floor.  This house is located on one of the main road intersections of the town.  The house burned a handful of years ago and was never restored.  It is now owned by one of my aunts that occupies the first floor.