"Time moves like a silent river. I didn’t notice how far I’d drifted until I looked back and saw a lifetime written in moments. I travel this world but once, and in my wake, somehow I can leave a story that says: I was here."
📚 FEATURED STORIES
The Prologue
The Man Called Me
The days flew by like a fleeting breeze,
From carefree youth to times like these.
Once just a boy, with the skies so wide,
Now this man stood, with time as guide.
This mirror showed, a much wiser face,
Marred by years, I cannot ever replace.
But I failed to see my life's halfway sign.
Too busy of the race of clocks and time.
CHAPTER 1: THE BEGINNINGS
My Childhood Backdrop
I grew up in a place where childhood dreams and desires were never out of reach. My neighborhood offered an atmosphere perfect for adventure, a rural setting that seemed to bring every childhood fantasy to life. The open fields, the natural surroundings, and the quiet simplicity of provincial life gave me a kind of freedom that children today rarely experience. These memories still visit me, like misty flashbacks in my quiet reflections or dreams, pulling me back to a time when my imagination roamed wild and free.
Growing Up In Pardo
A nostalgic look at my childhood in Pardo from the 1960s to 1980s; days of roaming the fields, fishing, kite flying, and seaside picnics. Once rich with nature and tradition, the landscape was forever changed in the 1990s with the rise of the South Road Properties (SRP).
My Parental Roots
I could trace my family's roots from the Colina clan of Mandaue City, Cebu and the Ybiernases of Pardo, Cebu City. Here I am ready to recall a brief life of my mother, Asuncion Colina, her parents, and siblings, alongside memories of Artemio Ybiernas Sr. and his ancestors, including my great-grandfather. This story reflects just a brief view of parents' background until their union in 1962. Here I go:
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Early Childhood Experiences
This story recalls the very day I came into this world and traces henceforth to early childhood, living in a century old home, the tender family moments, playful adventures, innocent mischief, and haunting dreams. It is a heartfelt journey through memories of love, laughter, lessons, and foreshadowings of faith.
Bizarre Encounters
There were strange happenings I found as I try to recall this part of my childhood. In 1970s, rural Pardo in Cebu was filled with beliefs in local folklore. I even had eerie encounters or maybe just my overactive imagination. From ghostly shadows, whispers at dawn, and tales of witches and doppelgangers to unsettling nights of unexplainable sounds, these memories blend fear, wonder, and the magic of growing up. Such a nostalgic review of my childhood innocence shape a kind of mystery that uniquely defined that era.
Conclusion
It’s Black Saturday, and the quiet feels heavier than usual. I’m sitting here alone, far from the world I once knew, the one where I grew up, where everything seemed so much simpler. I didn’t plan on diving this deep into the past today. At first, I just wanted to distract myself, to ease the ache of being alone. But as I started remembering, really remembering, I realized this has become something much more meaningful.
CHAPTER 2: GRADE SCHOOL DAYS
Grade 1 - SY 1974-1975
This year changed me in ways I couldn’t understand at the time. What began as a humiliating transfer turned into a blessing. I learned that kindness, friendship, and growth often bloom in the simplest places. I didn’t need to be in the top section to thrive. I just needed people who saw me not as a problem, but as a child learning his way.
Grade 2 - SY 1975-1976
My Grade 2 experience, as a whole, wasn’t as colorful as it had been in Grade 1. For one, the teacher didn’t seem to be on my side and rarely acknowledged my efforts to do well in her class. I tried my best to excel, but it often felt unnoticed. Still, that was just at school. At home, my days remained joyful and full of excitement. There, I was free to be myself, surrounded by family, play, and the simple pleasures that made my childhood special.
Grade 3 - SY 1977-1978
My Grade 3 year was a time of quiet resilience, small triumphs, and innocent hopes. I may not have been in the top section, nor came from a well-off family, but I learned how to stand tall in my own little way, by trying, even if it meant to pretend. It was a year that taught me that even when the world tries to define your worth by numbers or possessions, your effort will not always be left unnoticed, because it speaks louder than you could imagine.
Grade 4 - SY 1977-1978
Grade 4 was a year of quiet transition, moving to the main school building, meeting new classmates, and learning about life even beyond classroom. It was the year I tried harder, played harder, and quietly carried the weight of things, things I didn't fully understand. I may not have stood out as the best, but I knew I was growing, bit by bit. shaped by my classmates, my teachers, and the people around me, especially those who had so little, yet gave so much. That year reminded me that even in unassuming places, there were joys, friendships, and moments that would stay with me for the rest of my life.
Grade 5 - SY 1978-1979
Grade 5 wasn’t just about moving up, it was about growing up. I was still playful and curious, but now faced real challenges. From running errands for Mama to helping teachers, I earned trust early. I dealt with teasing, secret crushes, doubts, and even a fistfight. I stumbled, got compared, but also surprised myself. Quiet victories, a high score, a teacher’s smile, a nod of respect, meant the world to a boy learning who he was becoming.
Grade 6- SY 1979-1980
In Grade 6, school sections were no longer based on academic ranking, yet I stayed in Section 1 with familiar classmates. I lived under my valedictorian brother’s shadow, with teachers comparing us. Mrs. Santos, our English teacher, tested us to reclassify students and taught us songs like One Little Candle, which stayed with me. I faced bullying karma, sold camote cue to buy supplies, and graduated without honors, but quietly proud but wishing Mama had shown up for me at least to have a graduation remembrance photo.
Summer Activities of 1980
After graduation, summer meant kite-flying under the sun until my eyes turned red. My father retired and brought home gifts, including a cassette recorder we mischievously used. I was sent to stay with relatives, doing chores and feeling lonely at times. Harsh words and a chase in the cornfield stayed with me. Another uncle took me in later, where I quietly helped in their food store. That summer taught me humility, resilience, and gratitude before finally coming home.
Conclusion
Grade school was more than just a place of learning, it was the beginning of my understanding of the world and my place in it. It was a time of scraped knees, simple joys, and the slow, sometimes painful process of learning who I was becoming. I entered that chapter of life thinking school was only about textbooks, pencils, and report cards. But in reality, it taught me far deeper lessons, about people, identity, and the quiet complexities of growing up.