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A heated discussion a few days ago brought back painful memories. But it also brought me to a place of extreme gratitude.

I live in what used to be one of the sought after “villages”. It is still much sought after but very few original homeowners are selling due to its comparative cleanliness and safety. Its strategic location is also something many desire -– it is walking distance to an MRT station and to two of the country's most popular malls.

Our house concretely proclaims its 59 years. Some of the wood planks creak and some tiles are broken and wobble under my weight (LOL). While cleaned periodically, the walls bear indelible marks of aging. The gutter and roof are crying, nay, pleading for a replacement. The bathroom glass window bear proof of a stone gone stray. Likewise, a couple of the dining room windows. The small gate threatens entrants with tetanus. Until recently,  closing and opening the big one needed brute force. I could go on and on. In short, ours is an OLD house. Inside and out.

Oh, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. The preceding descriptions are simply statements of fact and not by any means complaints. Of course, I would be happy if the house could undergo “extreme flipping” just like in TV reality shows. But 28 San Pablo will always be home to me, special among God's countless gifts.

If the walls could speak, ours would scramble to have the floor. They would also compete for air time with so much to tell. Their accounts will run from the pathetic to the somber and downright pitiful. But it will also have as many or even more accounts of the happy, raucous and funny, and heart-warming exchanges unknown to many families.  

Our extended family is far from perfect. But God has so ordained it be made up of eigth and a half very colorful and unique -- “weird” would really be more accurate -- characters. Five and a half members living under one roof plus three in Illinois who are nevertheless as active a part of our exchanges every weekend on Skype.  Five members are senior citizens, the three others adults, plus one half count for our toddler. Eight are human and the remaining half canine, a shih tzu to be exact. Thus, we often lovingly refer to 28 San Pablo as a "home for the aged."

I realize that I have been remiss in acknowledging its real worth as much as I should. Doing this piece is a step in that process. Thankfully, God is patient and understanding, and smiles readily when we finally "come to our senses." 

I thank God for my family. I cannot imagine any other life. Oh, how I will miss the creaking floor boards and rusty gutters, among others. But most of all, the lovable human beings I sometimes grit my teeth or tear my hair over. They who can be a pain in the ass one time and such sweet and unbelievably loving creatures most times.

Thank You, Father God, that while our house may be rundown, our home is in such good shape. Only You can accomplish such feat. Just as You made possible this fantastic song and this equally fantastic rendition by this awesome talent, Melinda Doolittle.