I am Balong

Everytime I hear that word, I always remember my parents who call me with intimacy with that name. “Balong” is not a given name for me but it is used to call the first son in the family. It is not a nickname but an address or a title given to the eldest son; and that’s me. When my parents call me with that name, I feel being loved, tickled and being taken cared by their presence. It’s a feeling like sleeping on their lap as what an infant always does. What a moment of joy for a young boy being called as “Balong.”

The word came from the local dialect of my mother; Ilocano; which literally means, “first son” or simply “my son.” Though my father speaks different dialect, he used that with power and love to me. I have always an attentive ear to listen to that word which became my name for them. The word always give me a sense of greatness since it also connotes responsibility to our family, to my younger sibling and shares in making decision for my family’s welfare. That word gave me a sense of sonship and authority, and even fear and respect to them. In the contrary, that same word gives a wonderful feeling of being the first son, beloved and heir. There are privileges that cannot just be given to any sibling, one of those is being the first born. Due respect from my younger sibling is given and is being usually consulted. Only my parents call me with “Balong.” Now that my father is gone, my mother calls me with kindness with the name, “Balong.”

The name I am using this time is not my complete name but I am comfortable using it even with my official papers. I asked myself with,”What’s in a name?” but so many answers were given to that question. I am Balong.

My name makes me unique. I might share the same name with others, but never the same set of moments and circumstances that have made me who I am — I who go by this name.

My name sounds differently, coming from the lips of the different people who call me at different moments of time. But only those who love me say my name with all the hopes I am called to, with all the fullness I am invited to, with the sound of who I am really meant to be. Only those who love me speak my name within that dream.

What does it really mean to be called by name? What does it truly mean when I hear my name being spoken by God…by those who love me…by those who don’t love me…by those who know me… by those who don’t really know me? Let me ponder the mystery of hearing my name being spoken.

*Called By Name, an adapted excerpt.
*Tnx to Narna for the child’s image, thats not me.