Sal, born and raised in a big family in Philippines, immigrated here when he was a teenager.  He has seven brothers and sisters, most of them now in the states. However his parents both passed away, his mom died of stroke many years ago.

Sal is 44 years old this year, but like most Asians, he looks younger than his age. Young as he is, he had a heart attack last year and was admitted to ICU for a few days. He has recovered well since. When asked what he thought caused the heart attack, he attributed it to his unhealthy diet, fatty meat in particular as most Filipinos like to eat. His penchant for red meat is the culprit for his chronic gout, culminating in the heart attack.

Sal has an autistic daughter from his first marriage. A picture of his daughter from preschool is displayed at his cubicle wall, along with other small ones, in which he and his wife were cuddling and kissing her in the middle. The girl’s stiff half-smiling face somehow reminded me of a down-syndrome child. Sal told me that at the age of 14, his daughter still sleeps with the parents, afraid of being left alone in her own bed. She lives in her own little world, singing but not talking much, playing with animals but not the kids of her age.

Sal’s ex-wife lives two-hours-drive away. Every Friday afternoon Sal would be driving on the busy highway to pick up her daughter for the weekend and then drive another two hours to send her back. Sal and his new wife live in a one-bedroom apartment. When we were locked down and asked to work from home during the pandemic, Sal still came to office. His apartment is too small for two of them working side by side peacefully. He thought of upgrading to a two-bedroom, but then he said he needed to save for rainy days and for his daughter’s future.  As a father of a girl with autism, Sal knows he would have to tend her whenever and wherever. Perhaps to retire in Philippines is a good choice, said he with a smile.

10/18/2021

Another rain came this early morning. As I got up from a warm cozy bed, pulled apart the curtains and lifted the windowpane, crisp air gushed in. The freshly rain-washed eucalyptus tree branches were swaying in the wind, its bell-shaped flowers dancing with the dangling leaves. The street next to it was wet and quiet, with a few cars parked by the sides. As I stood there inhaling, I heard the familiar chittering sounds of hummingbirds. They must be the same hummingbirds that frequent my backyard.

In the common area, there are a few giant eucalyptus trees lining up in front of our homes, towering over and dropping leaves and gumnuts on the roofs. Next to my first floor kitchen window and the second floor bedroom window is the most beautiful one, blooming with pink flowers amid lush leaves. Its barks are rough and peeling off though, as new layer inside grows and hardens each year. Tinged with a touch of waxy silver color, the leaves are evergreen, the extract of which, in the form of scented oil, is believed to have some herbal healing effect. As the sun came out around noon, I stepped out the door with a camera. As I zoomed in on the fluffy flowers, a few vibrating bees came into sight. They were humming and feasting on the rich nectar. Their presence made me think of hummingbirds—if they ever feed on this kind of nectar too. Though hummingbirds still visit my backyard every day vying for the sugar water in the feeder, the aggressive one still chasing the rest, the battle for food is far less fierce. It could be these blooming eucalyptus flowers that suffice them. Nevertheless, nature provides more varied flavors or nutrients than a sugar-water feeder.  And as more rains are on the way, an extravagant spring is blissfully expected.

枇杷树开始开花了

eucalyptus flowers