HELLO. I’m Atom, and you’ve received my Travel Notes:
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Let me tell you about Milan.
She was a Black German Shepherd we adopted during the pandemic.
She stayed in my Ama’s backyard, so we visited her every week. We watched her grow up. We watched her destroy her yellow toy bone. We tried to teach her how to sit and to play fetch. We played with her even while it was raining, and her paws would make marks on our clothes. We walked her around the backyard, Milan making three circles for every circle that we made.
Although she was never one to walk with you, she was always one to look back to see if you were following.
As she grew bigger and her teeth grew out, our playdates became more “thrilling.” Because of her tendency to jump when she gets excited, I’ve come out of Milan playdates with many scratches on my limbs and many holes in my shirts. She had an active bite, too; if she didn’t have a toy in her mouth, then you could be certain your forearms were going in. All part of the fun!
During the pandemic, I looked forward to my once-a-week play dates with Milan, where I would stay with her for hours at a time.
Then the pandemic opened up, and suddenly, there were things to do other than spend hours playing with Milan. You could argue that 15 minutes could not have been so hard to find on a Sunday afternoon, except the pain of getting scratched, bitten, and dirty did not feel worth 15 minutes of playtime to me.
So, weekly visits turned into monthly visits at best.
Finally, I found out last Sunday that Milan had been given away to a family friend because my Ama and her maid could not handle taking care of her anymore.
I don’t know what made things worse for me then: that Milan was gone or that I did not even plan to play with her that weekend. You could even say I had given Milan away long before last Sunday when excuses not to play overrode reasons to play.
As William Irvine, author of A Guide to the Good Life, might put it:
“You always know when you’re doing something for the first time, and you almost never know when you’re doing something for the last time….
For ninety-nine percent of these last times, you will have no idea that that’s what it is. It will seem like another of the many middle times, with a lot more to come… ”
If I knew my last visit to Milan was my last visit, then I would have spent at least an afternoon with her. I would have taken more pictures with her (the photo above isn’t even a photo of me with Milan because I couldn’t find one with her). I would have gotten her a nice treat. In general, I would have spent more time with her.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be. It turns out, after going through my photos from the year, my last visit to Milan was back in March or April, more than five months ago.
But looking forward, I can use Milan as a reminder for all the last times to come. Fortunately, because I can tell you my departure date for Australia, I can be more aware of the many things I’m doing now could very much be the last time I do them.
My last time playing badminton with my Ama, my last time having lunch with my mom in her office at Xavier, my last time hiking with my brothers, my last time drinking my Diko’s homemade kombucha, my last time playing board games with friends, my last time going on a solo trip around the Philippines…
It’s sad for me to think of anything being the last time, but I’d take knowing I’m doing something for the last time as I’m doing it compared to realizing it in retrospect.
Until next week,
Atom
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