I only have some memories of what a regression equation is way back in college. We did not have some hard line econometric work way back then and my knowledge of it is really wanting. I got an incomplete mark in my DE214 in master’s school because I got hospitalized by the end of the semester, be that as it may, I know have a partial (derivative?) understanding of how very well it works.
There are a lots of resources online to define what a linear regression is, but my basic knowledge of it is that for every dependent variable y, there could be several x independent (dependent also) variables that may explain what y really is. At the end of the equation would be and error term e, that explains whatever all the x can not explain of y. Those would be the basic notations, however the assignment of variables are arbitrary. Some would even use the Greek alphabet so that makes the equation a bit scary.
Regression equations are helpful in explaining what determines a certain variable y, given various endogenous variables x1 , x2 , … xj. Since I was a bit turtle-pace in learning these all new concepts, way back in graduate school. I learned to explain how a regression equation would be related to how I deal with things. Supposed I am y, and some weird thinking Economics student would want to know how am I made of except from the obvious musculoskeletal structure that everybody has.
And now I am down to estimating my own regression equation. Back there I really did not know my purpose, except maybe to send some money to support my children and the roof above them. It has been three months, I am already home and still I could not determine the parameters that make up of me. What factors truly determine me?
The Saudi contract has ended and I am a slave no more. Living there feels like one is within a big penitentiary and that jail railings, barbwires and constraints are those moving figures limiting your freedom of above. I decided to go back to the Philippines in spite of the uncertainty of my life that lies ahead. After my dwindling relationship, my finances and some other personal drama, the only right thing to do is to go back to my roots and save whatever there is to save of what is left of my sanity.
Everyone back in Khamis Mushayt was so against my decision to come back. “Neng, tignan mo yung lahat yung mag nagsipag-exitan lahat ngayon wala pang trabaho. Yung iba lubog na may utang pa sa kung kani-knino.” Those were the gist of their words in reasoning to my non-negotiable exit from KSA. Of course I was hesitant at first knowing what chaos I will be facing back here. However, there are always several firsts in our lives that we need to do, whether we like it or not. Friction and resistance are personal struggles. And so there I go in a tapang-tapangan mode.
The truth is I came back, with not so much resources. I wanted to redeem myself before my children, Louise and Leainn. I promised my boy that Daddy will come soon and that I also pledged my Leainn that I will be there in time for her birthday. I wanted to be there at their side now more than ever.
They have been a casualty of a broken family. Something which I thought that I can still save them from. The deterioration was brought about by an ember-encouraged flames; fires their mother willingly created at our expense. Something which she cannot face head-on. She was like moving on and leaving the world behind in shatters. Moving on is not moving on when your environs are compromised, souls are compromised and my children’s moral destroyed. You do not destroy dreams, say you are sorry and move on like it was just you who have been shattered. You confess, say your act of contrition, mean it and ask for forgiveness. Anyway there is a greater justice ahead of us, I pass it on to Him to see you in the end of your days. I will take the future for you to repay whatever it is that you take away from me today. There are retreats in wars, surrender is out of the question, and victory will soon be realized. I hope to see you in your most annihilated state for you to repay things.
May 2011. I am already home.
I didn’t bothered anybody, my sisters and parents included, to fetch me from the airport. I came almost unannounced. I hailed a cab and there I went to our Makati house. Waiting there, without any fiber of idea whatsoever, were my children, all grown up and aware of things. Not mindful of my bags from the cab, my excitement about seeing them again was unparalleled. I miss them so much more than all the things I’ve done from the which satisfies all the senses. Hugging them again, crying and shivering, was like renewing my pained, stressed and wounded physique. They have reinvigorated me once more. Reuniting with them was like finding my lost soul and reconnecting with whatever that was amputated from me. My heart included. Really I could not muster no words to describe the July 4thish fireworks in my eyes. As they were in shock and awe seeing me, they were not able to utter a word in their amazement in seeing me again. It was all tears and kisses that we exchanged for that home coming. When I talked to them it was like seeing them again fresh from their Mother’s womb (the Mother of course is now out of the equation). My children are my home and I guess I am so accurate about it.
I was reunited with my parents and sisters who were in Las Piñas that afternoon and celebrating the first birthday of my nephew. My only brother will be leaving three days later to work in Malaysia, and all of my sisters were all well and good. My mother was all in smile almost tearful seeing me. My father was still very much alive and he can still partially see me, I kissed and hold him tight. I could understand him very well, I am a father now.
They are all here. I am already home. And so I thought.
We built a house in Lucena. I did not get to enjoy it. There was not a single night that I ever spend there with my kids. I only did get to fetch and bring them back every now and then. The most vulnerable in me tells me that it was very hard to start again, stand up and continue living my life. I did not get to live with my kids. They are possessions that I, for the meantime, will not be able to enjoy for some time. I am still stupid enough to think about how she will be feeling if I take my children with me since she has conceived another she can call her own.
If I come to my senses and cancel out my anger because of what happened to my family and my marriage, I still miss the mother of my children. She is someone, although eliminated from the equation, and is still part of the x factors in my life. Seven years with her isn’t so easy to forget. Though she is someone irreplaceable viz-a-viz in front of my children, the experience with her is something that I should really expunge from my medium and long term plans. I know and feel she is not sorry about what she did to me. She did it wilfully and in full consciousness. Rihanna is right. She was only sorry she got caught.
There were two deaths in less than two months. Upon my arrival from the Middle East, I lost my grandmother. In less than 24 hours upon my arrival, she expired and I am yet to see her alive to pay my last respect and kisses. Some goodbyes are so abrupt you do not get to prepared at it. No less than two months, my Dad, 52, died of multiple organ failures. He was diabetic and needing more medical care, but he opted to surrender. I can feel that my old man has been tired of his lingering sickness nevertheless he told me words nobody would ever tell me. No body would make it mean like it means to me that afternoon when he told me of what should I do. I listened to him when I married my former wife, and I will also listen to his advices now to honor a dead man’s wish, especially if he is my father.
Friends were there in times of needs. I do not seem to be in scarce with people who will help me pass the day without a smile. They may come in different forms and shape; in real-time, imaginary and cyber in origin; some for the money, for the fun or for the sex. I rarely get the latter.
I miss my Saudi friends. Loud-mouth Eric will always be that one person who I can lean on on lean days his stories are one that I so always wanted to hear redundantly. I will not erase that single moment he hugged me and cried because he will be losing someone like me. Butch will always be that singular RN Bicolano who is so dear to me he is so like my brother. Farlie, Romel, Rey, George, Allan, Liam, Ryan, Anton, Muloy, Arlene, Ara, Lito and the rest would all be equally important and valuable to me. The more than two years in KSA knowing them was a needed to regain some strength in the absence of my kids and nuclear family.
The last girl who broke my heart is happily in loved with her new found love. The That Should Be Me blog is all for her. I do not blame you. I love you. And if only I had the perfect me to perfectly love you, Bieber’s song might not be a personal hit for me. I will be happy in your happiness. And even I do not get to have that special place in you, you will always be someone that would cause my smile in every rainy afternoon and evening that I’ll have.
So what determines me? What is my regression equation? Well I do not know. I am still trying to massage the data in order to come out with the expected value that I wanted to achieve. I am incomplete to begin with. And I am just beginning whatever journey that I have with all the steps that I have taken before. As for the spikes and other “outlying observations” in my life, well that comes and goes. I just wish that they can be incorporated into the wholeness of me. After all, my life isn’t ending any time soon. I can still change whatever the x variables are telling me.
With the exception of flying and being able to breathe under water, what more can I not do after all the challenges in my equation? I am me and there really is nothing that they can do to majorly alter me. I still have an error term which could account for the etceteras in my life.
Above all, I have a wonderful God that now teaches me where to go, from being lost to being found, from my fall to my eventual rise.