Our parents are visiting us for the weekend. The last time they were in Manila was thirty years ago. I found out while rummaging into my mother’s documents when I was ten that she and my father got married in Pasay in 1983. It must have felt odd for my mother who’s now 53 to see how much the nation’s capital has changed after all those years. And even more dizzying for my father. They will leave tomorrow evening for Baguio City with my younger brother. In the afternoon, my sister and I plan to take them to Quiapo to attend mass or maybe say a short prayer and Binondo for those delicious dumplings sold in that quaint hole-in-the-wall dimsum place I know.