“Abu, bye-bye, kiddo,” I said. Jus replied, “Abu, bye-bye, mommy.” It’s our way of ending our conversation, no matter what emotional state we’re in…angry, ecstatic, playful, whiny… abu. I’m not talking about Aladdin’s thief-monkey-friend Abu nor a name common in Mindanao. You won’t find its meaning in any English dictionary nor an Etymology book. It doesn’t belong in any language, save for the language of our hearts — my son’s and mine. Abu — noun, verb, three words rolled into one; origin: mouth of a babe; dates back thirteen years ago; pronounced as a baby would… a-bu. You can hear it spoken between parent and child (sometimes), between siblings (rarely), between friends (not always), between lovers (not so often). Only, it’s uttered in three words. ABU - generic term: I love you.
Even before Jus learned any word, I always talk to him and often say “I love you.” It was on one lovely day, when he was one-plus year old, that he responded as he cradled my face between his small hands and cooed, “abu…abu…” From then on, he’d say ‘abu’ everytime he hears my ‘I love you’. In time, it was I who gave in to the baby-talk and learned to say ‘abu’. My little baby taught me the most beautiful word in the world.
For some of us, ‘I love you’ is a foreign statement. It’s scary to utter it. Embarrassing, corny, mushy to even speak of. What do we fear? Rejection, humiliation, or being misunderstood? To heck with that! Open your heart and mind, sweetie. There are thousands of reasons to say ‘I love you’ to someone, from merely trivial to the most mundane or deepest. I say ‘I love you’ to you for wiping off the crumbs of chickenjoy on my face; for lending me your toothbrush; for the delayed salary which had finally reached my bank account; for booking my flight; for sending me to and picking me up from the airport; for the warm clothes, chocolate-chip cookies and warm hugs; for simply your presence in my life; for this little corner; for my page on TF newsmag – where I can reach out and touch a heart… I say ‘I love you’ when I’m grateful, appreciative, thankful, and joyful for what I have. If you’re hesitant to say ‘I love you’ to your loved one because you’re afraid someone might overhear it and call you a sentimental fool, just say ‘abu’. The eavesdroppers will wonder what on earth you’re talking about. To heaven with ‘em! Speak up, sweetmeat! It’s even all right to say, “I love you, big butt.”
Besides Jus, there’s another sweet soul whom I speak ‘abu’ with. My Abest (which, in my vocabulary, means above the best). Sometimes we find our best friends in our own blood. That’s with my cousin Jayz. He taught me the proper use of ‘heaven’ in a phrase it fits best — “to heaven with ‘em”, instead of the ‘hell’ misfit. We call each other ‘pangit’ (ugly), which is soothing to our ears. And there’s now Mr B who’d instinctively know something’s not right with me whenever I missed the “abu” in our conversations.
With mom, daddybear, bigbrobear, broAbear, and the rest of the family bears, I use the generic ‘I love you’. Distance brought us closer to the things we wanted to say. It’s through the wires that we’re finally bridging gaps.
Jus’ “Abu, good night, inang,” and Jayz’s “Abu, good night, pangit,” are messages of warmth and ‘hugs’ that put me on a sound slumber at night.
Abu, keep a joyful heart…
*published in The Filipino Now International Magazine (March 2007 issue; p.13)
**reprinted in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)
