After Kuya had sent out his letter, it was time to wait, and wait we did. Anxious days, weeks and months passed, and we got nothing, perhaps an ironic response to the quick search it took to find him. Kuya was losing hope, resigned to the fact that he would never get a “meet and greet” with his biological father. More months passed and the topic had become an implied taboo. At least until Kuya brought it up over a family dinner, saying that although he refused to fire up his hopes again, he felt it deserved another try.
That night, Kuya got in front of the computer and over a VoIP service, dialed the digits of his biological father’s residence. One ring, two rings, and three rings later, a man picked up the call. A very brief conversation of many confirmations was had – Kuya’s letter was received, the man went by the name and description of Kuya’s biological father, and yes, he knew he had left his one and only biological son in the Philippines some thirty and so years ago. Upon realizing that the one on the other end of the line was this son, he ended the call abruptly.
To be continued.
That night, Kuya got in front of the computer and over a VoIP service, dialed the digits of his biological father’s residence. One ring, two rings, and three rings later, a man picked up the call. A very brief conversation of many confirmations was had – Kuya’s letter was received, the man went by the name and description of Kuya’s biological father, and yes, he knew he had left his one and only biological son in the Philippines some thirty and so years ago. Upon realizing that the one on the other end of the line was this son, he ended the call abruptly.
To be continued.
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