I Live in a House with No Vases

I brought my mom flowers one day, a stalk of linen-white oriental lilies. They have yet to to bloom though, still encased in their green sheaths. The florist assured me though that they'd bloom in time for Valentines.

So I headed home quickly and thought to present these blossoms well. I sought for a vase, something slender to compliment the stalk. Something plain and without hue, so the white of the lilies could stand out.

After a long search, I salvaged a vase shaped like a woman and her hair, also green, bending over. It was very art deco and it had a hole which made it a vase somehow. I placed my one stalk inside and it looked a bit awkward, the lilies jutting out at a sharp angle to accommodate the curved posture of the green artsy lady.

In the afternoon light, I stared at my attempt at being emotional and thought this is how it is in this house.

In the earlier days, my mom and dad have made it a point to always stick to essentials, and have cultivated a culture of scarcity. My parents reinforced this by placating my childish wants for shiny new things with tenets like, "Not for now dear, we're a little short," "We don't need that right now," and the ever popular, "When it's your birthday or Christmas, I promise we''ll get it for you."

In time, I've learned to rely on myself for my own needs and wants. My parents provided everything I needed in school like books and pens and notebooks, new ones every school year. And I enjoyed these times because I could pick and because I didn't have to feel guilty since there was a set budget. But for impromptu necessary expenditures like field trips and projects, I drew from my own purse. In my youth, I dealt with absolutes and only now have I realized I could have still asked these things of them, that they could afford it and would probably condone--and eventually did in later years.

But it stuck, and I always made it a point to be independent of my parents, especially financially, in all things. For frivolous things, like designer perfume or sweet flowers, I've only lately learned to indulge in those and I have my friends to thank for that.

But in this moment, I've come full circle. I have fresh flowers in a house that have never known any. The only fresh blossoms to ever step inside are the sampaguitas my parents buy off the street kids. Here, today, I am confronted by the humility my parents brought me up with and the resulting growth in my character.

The improvised vase was leaky. The green lady was old and it was never meant to hold water--we've had her since we moved in 15 years ago--so we placed the lilies in a large clear water-glass. My mom found them in the morning and--though they were unnecessary, do not contribute to paying any bills, nor fulfilling any pending needs--they bloomed, and they bloomed beautifully.

My mom was happy that Valentines.