Soft revolution

It's no big issue, but taking sides is a fated family affair. We turn to one camp when the other won't heed to our yearnings. At some point, it's a permanent affair; seldom, much like political turncoats, we switch teams.

The ongoing fray in the Senate, much to my surprise, has reached the portal of my parents' house in the province. Coming from a politically involved family, my mom maintained the most distant and less involved life from her roots. Together with my father, they are the couple one is unlikely to bump in a family reunion and share their thoughts on the political dynasty in our province.

So imagine my perplexity when she called in the middle of the night just to ask my personal opinion on the current CJonTrial issue. Before I could even answer, I heard my father in the background speaking, well arguing.

I was always on my mother's side. Being the only boy in the family and the distant relationship I have with my father, the closest emotional accord I established was with her. It was her who always climbed with me on the stage on my elementary recognition rites because my father won't accept that his only son wasn't the top in the class. When I was on the top, it was my mom who comforted my cries when every small mistakes I took were criticized by my dad.

Call it loyalty, but there is an established alliance we won't admit to the public. On petty arguments, like what flower to send to a sick relatives, I would pick my mom's choice without a thought. When a serious family problem once broke, I was silent. But the connection was lavish enough for my mom to know which side I was on.

An inevitable episode, I say. From the most ridiculous matters of what ulam to have for the night, or what brand of pasta to buy- to the most sensitive issues an episode of Lost would look lame. After all, a state of existence devoid of association has no meaning.

There is no need to disclose the political conversation I had with my parents that night. But yes, I was, again, on my mother's camp. Not because I just want to, but all those years of being allies with my mother had created something more intimate than wet pillows and hot chocolate drinks.

The next day, I would learn that my dad called my sister to seek her opinion, ergo pulling her on his side. The apathy of her, my sister just shrugged and, as usual, asked why was there an argument again. Unfortunately, my 11-year old sister has nothing to say yet. So now, let's just say, it's safe to assume our side won.