Dear Joy

Today you celebrate your 41st birthday. It’s unfortunate that we’re thousands of kilometers apart so we cannot be together to enjoy your very special day.

Since two weeks ago, I have thought long and hard about my gifts. Finally, I decided to give you two things that come not from my bank account and wallet but from my heart and mind. Just like me, I know that you prefer the inherently priceless over the atrociously expensive.

But before I tell you what my two gifts are, a short explanation is in order: My preoccupation with so many concerns sometimes leads you to think that I do not listen to you, and that I only pretend to do so as my mind wanders off to “more important things” even if I’m with you.

Well, I should clarify a couple of things right now. First, I do listen to every word you say. Second, nothing is more important than nurturing the relationship we have. You are my raison d’etre, in the same way that you always say that I am yours.

Underneath the public image of a serious journalist is a husband yearning for his wife, constantly trying in her absence to answer the proverbial 5 Ws and 1 H — What is she doing right now? Why is she not calling? Who (if ever) is on the other line? When will she call me? Where is she? How is she right now?

With you, I am irony personified as I get flustered by your online presence. I am always at a loss for words whenever we end our day with a two-hour or so conversation on Skype. The reason for my odd behavior is simple: It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you. It’s just that seeing you (albeit virtually) more than makes up for my otherwise tiring day teaching students, checking papers, attending meetings, conducting workshops, writing articles, editing papers, among others.

That you are married to a teacher is something you could live with, as your parents used to be college professors. But I know that being married to a journalist is tortuous at the very least, what with the constant necessity for me to spend a lot of time reading, writing, editing, among a million other tasks.

I do apologize if my work gets the better of me and I sometimes forget that we should be spending more time together. On the occasion of your 41st birthday, consider this promise as my first gift to you: I will spend more time with you.

What’s my second gift? To prove that I do listen to every word you say, I know that shortly before we got married, you had the chance to listen to all of the 12 songs in the Rosas ng Digma (loose translation: Rose of War) album. I distinctly remember that your favorite cut is titled “Sa Duyan ng Digma.”

Allow me at this point to make it our song as I translate it into English, a feat that you know is very hard because translation is not my specialization (aside from the fact that singing is my Waterloo). Even at the risk of public embarrassment, I admit that I spent the whole day yesterday doing this.

I know it’s not perfect, but the perfection I strive for is not mastery of the language but the shaping of my identity to be deserving of you.

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy your day and sing our song of joy.