I arrived early morning in Manila catching the sunrise earlier from my plane. The beam of sunlight that shone on my face gave me a moment to be thankful on that day. I have always felt the sun shines brighter on this part of the world and the time I have been away made me realize this more.

It has been almost a year now of going back and forth, mostly during Singapore holidays when most of us, migrant workers, would go back despite the demand-driven high cost of plane tickets. I really don’t mind the money spent on this, or even my time off from work. If these things start to worry me then my priorities are mixed up. Building and nurturing my relationship with my family is my utmost priority, this cannot be compromised.

What worries me the most is whether I have become emotionally distant to them while I was away for months. It’s a melancholic feeling, at worst I felt guilty of it one time.

This happened on my second child’s birth. I was not there when Ethan was born. I was just short of a day. It made my emotional baggage heavier—of being away from them. It brought an uneasy feeling with me over the following days, pulling me down that time. Time was lost like sand blowing in the tides of regret and sadness. Is this thing really worth it? This question is always on my mind.

Everytime I go home, I try not to count the days left, or the days lost in the past. I just try to live in the present with them, seizing every moment. Unpacking all of my baggages when I’m with them, until the weight of it is not heavy anymore. I am home today and for this I am grateful.