Times My Mom Stood Up For Me.

Today has been another great day spent beneath the bookshelf inside a store somewhere in MOA. This time I grabbed a book written by Mitch Albom entitled For One More Day.

At the end of every chapter is a brief anecdote where the main character listed down a scenario in which his mom stood up for him and the times when he DID NOT stand up for his mother. I know we all have that brief moment when our mothers actually did something we would never imagine just to fight for us. But we also have those times when we actually let down our mothers when the situation calls for us to stand for that woman.

Today, I want to share the first thing that came into my mind when I reflect about the times Mama stood up for me, and maybe the times I did not stand up for her.

A time when Mama stood up for me:

I was the leader of our thesis group and feeling responsible and superwoman that I was, I make sure to always go extra mile in doing my part as their leader. My mom saw how much I drive myself crazy that time and she was utterly concerned about me.

One day, when I came home, I wore that same exasperated look she always hate. After some time, she got me talking about my day and what made me feel so tired. And I told her about a father of my thesis mate who threatened to talk to our College Dean about my conflict about his daughter. I was really crying because of the tension wearing down on me, but she stood there, feeling so angry, backing me up and telling me that whatever happens she knows and everybody knows what I did for our thesis group and that she will fight for me if she should.

Luckily the conflict with my thesis group resolved on its own, but that actually made me realize how my mother can turn into a gabriela silang if she really has to defend me. :)

Time I did not stand up for my mother:

I know there might be a hundred times when I did not stand up for her, but I guess this was the last time I could let her down.

Before she died, my mother had been sick for almost three months. Those three dragging months of taking care of her, of attending to her needs, of giving in to her whims, really wore me down.

And in a fateful night of May, days before I graduated, I told her, “hindi ko na kaya, ma..” Being childish and the youngest in the family, I know I haven’t realized what my words actually meant to her. But right at that moment all that was important to me was that I was tired of taking care of her, and all I was asking was that she fight her sickness for all of us, and once again be that woman who would stand up for me when I say, “hindi ko na kaya, ma..”

But then she died, and I know I will forever remember that night that my weakness overshadowed my love for her. If I only knew that it would be my last time to stand up for her, I know I would give up everything to be the girl who would stand up for her.

The most wonderful thing about it? She understood me. As gentle and loving as she was, she loved me in my weakness and cried her love for me for the last time.

Big Boys Do Cry...

"You are my first star at night,

and I'll be lost in space without you..."

Here it goes again. It's playing on repeat. And every time it does, I know exactly what is happening...

It's my mom's favorite song, Lost in Space, by Lighthouse family, something that hit the airwaves back in the 90s. Maybe not so many know this song, but in our home, it's like a lullaby, or a love song, or a song of grief. Long ago, it was played in our home for the first time on a mothers day, on a cassette player. I even tried to have my rendition of this song although it is for a male voice and a key lower for my voice. But when my mom died, it started to be played as a way to cope with grief, or to shake off sadness. When mom died, my boys, my brothers, played it on repeat every lonely day, like this day is.

Yes, big boys do cry, and how I wish I can draw them close to my arms every time. But I know I can't and I should not. I can never give comfort the way my mom did, it will be more painful for all of us. So I let them have their own time, a time to shed their tears silently, until such time they'll be ready to stand up again for themselves, for us.

I remember the day when we received the call that told us about mom. I was cooking sopas for our breakfast back then. It was almost done, but my tongue couldn't even taste a thing and I couldn't even swallow because of the lump inside my throat. I was trying hard not to burst into tears, especially in front of my two brothers. They need me, they need me to be strong. So I said, "Kain muna, kain muna tayo..."

Earlier, it was almost the same thing. I prepared something for our dinner, and called up for my brother. When he went down, his eyes were still red from crying, but I smiled. That smile. I know it will never be enough to take their tears away but I smiled, a reassuring smile and talked about trivial things, and talked about the world, as if I never heard them grieve or saw them cry. Yes, they are my boys who cry over their loss, but they are my men, the men I always count one. So I have to be their girl, who fights and tease them like a cat, and their woman whit whom they could find the strength to go on.

Oh God, thank you for the luxury to see them crying.. Their vulnerability is something I really treasure, but Lord, it breaks my heart, it weakens me. Although I tried to stand firm for them

I still wobble with their tears. So please, dry their tears away and comfort them in your loving arms, and teach me to be the woman they need, Lord.

After having our dinner, my brother rushed to his work. He said he needed some distraction. And once again, he strides like a big man out into the world.

Big Boys do cry...

And when they're done, they look up, and wonderfully turns into a man.