The magic of Christmas
If attending reunions were a potent pill to cure myself of vertigo and asthma, then my recent Christmas party with long-lost college friends scored a homerun in my search for wellness. In that get-together, I found out that friendship could heal. You see, in that particular moment of spinning world and whopping cough, I found human Serc and Ventolin Nebules in my friends. Instantaneously, I was relieved. And how!
The night before the reunion, I was having vertigo spell and asthma attack at the same time. My dizzying world was errantly rotating outside its axis and I could almost see the universe every time I coughed. I couldn’t find any comfortable position to mitigate the discomfort. I sat down and I began to see a constellation of stars. I tried to lie down and I felt I was floating in mid-air. I stood up and I began catching shooting stars. I was alone and I felt my room was a launching pad, my body the spaceship ready to be plunged to the great unknown. I was afraid nobody would see me fly or float in the vacuum.
I woke up late the following day — trying to be alive and kicking. The prospect of another beautiful day beckoned. Just when I was lounging in the art of doing nothing, my phone rang. I needed to get out of bed to take the call but I just allowed it to ring on top of my side table. I was still feeling a little weak to stand. The caller, however, was persistent.
“Mayora!” I exclaimed when I picked up the phone to talk to Arlene Arcillas-Nazareno, mayor of Santa Rosa City. We both belonged to a group of friends called Ilag’s Boys and Ilag’s Girls simply because we lived in a compound called Ilag’s when we were in college at UP Los Baños some 20 years ago.
“What time will you be at our Christmas party tonight?” Arlene asked. I totally forgot about it, perhaps because my neurons were sapped out when my world spun the night before. That instance, too, everything came back to me, the gravitational force to remember details became vivid —Christmas party with college friends, 8 p.m., Hai Bar at The Fort, exchange gift worth P500, bring another gift for raffle, bring fun, expect non-stop laughter.
I put down the phone feeling more alive this time. It was a call I needed to answer to shake off the lethargy caused by my dizzying episode the night before. “Tonight’s gonna be a good night,” I hummed as I aped the voice of will.i.am of the Black Eyed Peas. The thought of seeing old friends energized me. After all, it is not every day that we see each other. “Tonight’s gonna be a good night.”
That night, in the company of well-meaning friends, laughter proved to be the cheapest and the best medicine. I was healed.
* * *
Attending an intimate Christmas party is also like witnessing a magician’s show while you occupy the front seat. You see the trick — the instant happiness that a get-together brings you — and you wish it will never end. But unlike the illusion cast by magicians, the jovial feeling of those present at a reunion remains authentic. Now, that’s the magic of Christmas.
And so at our party, the magicians and spectators in us surfaced. First to show his talent in magic was Russel Molina, a children’s book author. He showed us a coin, rubbed it against his palm until it completely vanished. We lost sight of the coin before our very eyes but we found anew ourselves in each other’s heart. He showed us an old trick that elicited from us brand-new laughter. That’s friendship — neither time nor distance can measure up to the degree of our attachment to each other. Most of us may not be in touch with one another most of the time but all it takes is just one get-together to rekindle our ties. And like magic, we remember the things that took place in the past — the laughter, the challenges, the bantering — as if they just happened yesterday.
Just when Russel was enjoying to show us his tricks and antics, he unselfishly shared the stage with other magicians — Mike Chebat, a national sales manager for Abbot International; Lloyd de Guzman, a product manager for Bayer; Edwin Bacani, a director at the Congressional Commission on Science, Technology and Engineering; Gilbert Foliente, a full time Victory Christian pastor; and world-class sales persons Glenn Añasco, Noli Lorenzana and Ronron Flores.
As they staged their acts, the spectators — my bestfriend Jay Capiral, Dr. Ging Javier and her sister Lea, Dr. Lenlen and Patrick Leonardo and I — ended up in stitches. Friends of the Ilag’s Boys and Ilag’s Girls like Jojo and Armi Genio, Lou Molina (wife of Russel), Sushi Lorenzana (wife of Noli), Chin Luna, Chad Aquino, Henry Garcia, Vic Chumacera, Weng dela Cruz and Jojit Singson contributed to the riotous scene.
“Peryahan” all so suddenly became the theme of our gathering and we all got entangled in carnival frenzy. The nippy Christmas breeze in the city was no match to the warmth and wattage of our revelry. If only our laughter could generate electricity, we would have electrocuted ourselves. That night, we were carefree and explosively happy!
Next year, we promise to bond again. Meanwhile, we will be attending to the respective superhighways of our lives. Despite the passing of time, we all are glad that we still know by heart our way to each other.
Our friendship assures us that no matter what road we take, we will not get lost. After all, it is second skin to us to spot the landmarks we planted in each other’s life some 20 years ago.
(One day, I’ll tell you why I received two colorful towels in our exchange gift instead of Gary Larson’s The Far Side commemorative. Please e-mail me at bumbaki@yahoo.com or my.new.beginnings@gmail.com. Have a blessed Sunday!)
