I asked a former high schoolmate if he still had a copy of our yearbook. He said he would look for it. I replied that if he managed to find it, he should let me know right away so I could borrow it.

“Why are you feeling nostalgic these days?” he asked.

His question caught me off guard.

“I’ve always been nostalgic!” I replied.

Then I wondered—do I come across as someone longing for the past because I was happier then?

But the truth is, my happiness isn’t tied to any particular season. I have always been a positive person. I just have a vivid memory of the people, places, and moments that mattered to me.

Just this week, I reconnected with Tessie and Rosedel through Facebook.

I first met Tessie when I was around six, but we became close when I was twelve. She was Mama Dely’s (my grandmother’s sister) trusted assistant—running errands, managing tasks, and helping wherever needed.

My childhood in Mabini was filled with afternoons spent on Mama Dely’s terrace, enjoying snacks while Tessie handled the steady stream of customers at the sari-sari store. She was fearless, too—climbing trees with ease, especially the macopa tree, where she’d gather a small basket of fruit. One of my fondest memories of her was when I caught her sneaking a quick kiss with one of our Coke delivery men.

Rosedel, on the other hand, came into our lives in the mid-’90s when she helped my aunt raise her son. Unlike Tessie, who loved to joke around and tell stories, Rosedel was friendly but a bit reserved. My aunt, Ate Gina, trusted and loved her because she cared for my cousin as if he were her own younger brother. We formed a strong bond, and when they eventually returned to their province, it saddened me.

Life moves forward, and some say it’s natural to forget the people we meet and lose along the way. But I see it differently. I never forget those who were kind to me, even if they’ve moved on.

That’s why I always make the effort to find them—to ask how life has been treating them.