Hold Onto Your Ears

Life Lessons

As I grew up, my Mom had many sayings that I term Mom-isms. On windy days when I played in the backyard, she would say, 'Hold onto your ears, or you'll blow away!' I believed her. - Excerpted from Eldest Daughter's Mom-isms written in honor of Mother’s Day 2018

I'm elated that Eldest Daughter has honored me by putting into writing my top five sayings. It makes me smile, thinking that these are the same ones that my own Mum schooled me in.

Dwelling on those times, I can't help but get convinced that perhaps, mothers are all slightly insane. When they ask, Do you want a piece of advice? - it is mere formality. It doesn't matter if you answer yes or no. You're going to get it, anyway. What's more weird is that the advice doesn't seem to make sense, but we heed the admonition all the same.

Like holding onto my ears on windy days, lest I blow away.

It's temperate most of the time in my city of Where-The-Nilad-Grows, but sometimes, the habagat southwest monsoon wind prevails. That's when a breeze starts stirring the canopy of the acacia tree in the backyard, ruffling its branches like a skirt. Come in now, Mum yells from out the window. It's getting windy. Uulan na! It's going to rain soon!

I heave an exasperated sigh. The light breeze blows strands of black hair across my eyes. Kaunting laro pa. I want to play a little longer, I plead.

A sudden gust stirs the treetops. I plant my feet firmly on the ground, reeling in the wind that turns my skirt into a flaring tulip. The wind is catching debris which it is whisking up and down behind me in an angry spiral. Sensible pipit and maya birds have already taken cover under the shade of the mango tree. My heart starts to flutter wildly like a kite in the whirlwind. Naku, hold onto your ears, or you'll blow away! Mum says with a stern nod, her concern genuine.

Heeding the urging, I gently grip my ears and close my eyes. The current of air rises and moans around me, then slowly fades until the lamenting becomes a low murmur, like voices. I wait. Except for a small gust of wind rattling bare alagao branches, the scene has now otherwise become quiet. I open my eyes. The breeze has tangled my hair, but it's all safe and clear. I quietly sigh in relief.  

Lessons learned in the home last the longest. To this day, my mouth quirks in an amused smile as I catch myself tugging at my ears whenever the wind starts to blow sharply cold around my face. As it kicks harder and more brisk, a reassuring feeling falls over me. I know that all will be well, just as long as I heed the lesson learned in the schoolroom of my Mum's heart: hold onto your ears.