The Worst Noel.

I've come to expect a rhythm to my life. It's ingrained. I look forward to a wind-down at work on the week before Christmas; a couple of days before the 25th, I pack and take the first flight to Davao; then I spend two weeks mucking it up with the family, then I take a reluctant fly-back to Manila for yet another working year.

The rhythm's changed drastically in the past three years. Before Christmas 2000, Dad had a stroke and I flew back three weeks earlier than usual. Obviously, the season lost a bit of its luster, despite my five weeks' off work. Last last year's Christmas saw a slight return to the rhythm, with Nanay's "surprise" birthday celebration and all, and my humble proposal to Minnette.

This year, the rhythm's been thrown completely out of whack. I'm far from any family I've grown up with. Minnette's my family now; we're both missing our childhood family and friends so much it hurts. Only hundreds of km from home, and it seems like we're worlds away from Simbang Gabi, puto bumbong, quezo de bola, badly-sung carols, and parols hanging from the eaves.

We'll try to surround ourselves with familiar folks this Christmas so it doesn't feel so much like we're missing out, and we'll count the days to our Chinese New Year return to the Philippines for much-needed catching up to do.

The Pavlovian instinct to connect this Christmas will have to be tended to a month late, and I dearly hope to whatever Divinity's left out there that next year, we'll get to fulfill the rhythm right.