"Body full of Granite"

January 27, 2020
Pasonanca Park in Zamboanga City

The park covered a wide area that could fit about three small houses. It was hilly with a tall tree or two near one hill. There were benches for people to sit in every corner and jogging tracks were all around the edges of the park. The west corner had some swings too on which many children used to come and play. Flower hedges and bushes grew all around; this made the park look more pleasant and attractive. This place would have been most beautiful at this time; it would have been so pleasurable to relax here and take in some cool fresh air but only if bad things were not happening

The sunbeams poured through narrow openings of the pale clouds as it outlined the fringes of the lazy drifting clouds. The calm relaxing shade of blue in the background supported the clouds and sun. The colorful swings grew wings as it merilly jumped up and down accompanied by little humans with smiles from ear to ear

"Mama, what is that one?" Little Ethan said to me while pointing at the three dimensional figure of a woman soldier

"That's a soldier honey." I lowered my position just to reach his innocent face, He had eyes that shined like pebbles washed by the ocean waves and a smile that ignited inner laughter in all who saw

"Her skin is gray, what does it mean mama?" He looked and scrutinized at the color of his skin before giving me a glimpse, his eyes were full of queries and mirth at the same time

"Because that soldier were made out of granite stone Ethan." He's face still has this elusive question mark, hanging from his brow until his chin

"Okay, I know you're confused by now but I'd like you to hear a story. Come and sit here." I took all the dust and dirt from a bench, I perched and began tapping the big space for Ethan to occupy

The bench was imposing, more of a throne than a casual seat for a garden. The high ornate arms rose on each side and the back was tall with carvings. Primrose clambered on and Ethan beside me is clapping his hands, the seat being plenty roomy enough for two

I heave a sigh before narrating a story that had been kept a secret for many years that this little boy lived, His cheeks were like the rice crackers in the brown paper bag, pale and convex. His dimples punctuated the chub rendering him more cute than he'd otherwise be. He had a honey kiss to his brown hair and his eyes were a bright hazel. No-one noticed that his nose was wide and flat, a gift from his beloved mother and his skin was the colour of melted chocolate but I suspected it had a texture closer to leather that he probably get from his father. I kissed his forehead like what I usually do

"That's Charlene Grabielle Lopez, the one you're referring into earlier." I pointed my finger to the lady soldier, standing six feet tall on a flat marker

Ethan was astonished "She has the same surname with us."

"Yes, you're right and Charlene was a great soldier because despite being the only woman in the battalion, she stood out and outshines every man that she got competed with. September 2013 when the city of Baguio experiences the great crisis of all or what other people calls as Zamboanga Siege, it was a armed conflict between the Zamboanga City and the Moro National Liberation Front. And Charlene was one of the soldiers who fights just to bring back the peacefulness in our city." I stopped for a minute as my palms starts to brush his soft hair

"What's next Mama?" He excitedly said, Ethan looks like he's being jangled by invisible strings from above, only his puppeteer is drunk. The only thing I can make out beneath his moving hair is a smile that could light up any day, no matter how dark. Isn't that the gift that children bring? To show us a spark of pureness in the hope that ours is still able to shine back at them

"Until the day of battle arrived like an airplane moving on fast pace, they battled their hearts and minds out while holding their big guns. And Charlene was the one leading her team, she's so brave and didn't showed any signs of fear. She helped the Zamboangueño's to evacuate in order for them not to be abducted by the bad people."

"You mean, the Moro Islamic Liberation front Mama?" He asked, There is something so intoxicating about an excited child. They bounce, they pounce, they squeal and they run. As their grins get wider everyone about them starts to smile - even the curmudgeons who love to complain. That's how Ethan is today, as if he's bursting with liquid sunshine from within

"You're very intelligent my little Ethan." I responded to him with a peck on his rounded cheeks a and everything tickles him as funny and if there is one idea coming from his mouth there are seven more queuing up in his mind

He took a glance at the soldier again and taps at my lap in a damp motion, signalling me to continue the story

"The conflict had paralyzed the economic activity of Zamboanga City. During the course of the conflict, the MNLF had been taking civilians as hostages. The group demanded the hoisting of the Bangsamoro flag at the Zamboanga city hall in exchange for the hostages, Charlene has a baby at that time but since she can't perform both tasks– being a mom and a soldier so, she asked my permission if I could take care of his baby who she later named as Ethan but later on, Charlene was dead after saving a lot of people. That's why the municipality here in Zamboanga opted to build a monument for Charlene in order for the Zamboangueño's to commemorate the heroic heart of Charlene and until now. People come and visit here to look at the carved figure of Charlene."

"Wait, his baby and I has the same name Mama." He exclaimed, Ethan stands so still, eyes looking at the figure that was standing still. He watches as children do, with that look of love and awe. His eyes stays with the statue with the body filled with granite stone, capturing his mind in the most calming of ways, the same way soft waves on the beach do. It's as if he's in love with nature, with life itself, and I pray this life nurtures that sense in him, keeps him as whole as he was born

"Yes, and that little boy that I was talking earlier was you." He was astounded with his eyes enlarged and his mouth wide open. Ethan was very intelligent even with his age, I know for a fact that he understands everything now

I grab my softest sweater, my favourite, and ball it up. I bend down, arranging my face into something I hope is friendly, then wrap his arms around it. He holds it while I inch my way to his body. I have the courage to arrange and store. On my return, he is in the exact same spot, his arms still hugging a sweater that lies cold on his feet. I’m such a shit. He’s in total shock and I’m arranging my wares. This is why he needs a mom, not some hopeless Grandmother. I go back to him and pick him up just like I did in the before when he was just a small boy. At first he is stiff but then he melts into my body, his arms limp, dangling like a doll. Without being aware of it, my left hand rises to stroke his back. Then he begins to cry softly, wetting my shirt. I thought kids were supposed to cry loudly, not Ethan apparently, he cries like an old man beaten down with sorrow

I was the one who breaks from the hug and my left hand abruptly holding him at his shuddering shulders and my right hand forms a fist to wipe his tears away

"Go and hug her Ethan." He runs fast towards the big and tall cast figure of his mother, his hands were enveloping at the lower body of the statue

If my daughter, Charlene is still alive. I know that she would be happy and ecstatic knowing that Ethan is growing so fast and very smart

But there's a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on someones' face. Sometimes the stories are simple, and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all every stories is always a mother's story, because Charlene's story is where Ethan begin.