Luab: The presence of love

WE live in the times of absent parents. If it is not the father who is away, it’s the mother. Both are equally needed to be around. A father stands for his strength, his authority, his unwavering “straight to the point” edicts. Mothers are warm, cuddly persons, whom we run to for our hurts, for ailments, for soothing. They are the pillars of understanding and most of all, our caretakers.

It is so sad to hear my nephew exclaim, “My children do not know me anymore. I come home every two years, to stay for two months, then I go back to work." (He is a ground steward in one of the airlines in a foreign country).

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True enough, the children benefit from his monthly remittances but he has inadvertently alienated himself from them. To hear the regret in his voice does make one wonder if the money part is worth all the separation that exists.

His eldest daughter got married recently. Just before he walked down the aisle with her, he said to me, “I feel strange! How can I give someone away, whom I don’t even know?" He still has two college students to see through.

We have learned to commiserate with people like my nephew. We love them, we respect their priorities and we understand their plight. What we cannot accept are the parents who are absent even if they are present.

I am speaking of parents who are too busy pursuing their interests, their pleasures. They leave their “yayas” (a name for the caretakers of their children) to see to their children’s needs.

One out of three children are lucky if they get a soft-hearted person, at least a high school graduate, to attend to them.

They are lucky if the caretakers they get are really committed to the task assigned to them. Generally speaking, our caretakers are domestic helpers who come from the province. It takes some time for a bonding to take place. In the meantime, a lot of these caretakers are left alone to make decisions on their own regarding what food to give when the child refuses to eat his lunch. They are the ones our young approach with questions to be answered. Are we still surprised to see our small ones afraid to enter a dark room because a monster is lurking there to eat bad boys? Are we still surprised to see husbands devoid of love for his own family or his siblings because he never experienced the closeness of bonding when young?

I attended a get-together of the Arcenas men at Marriott where they invited friends of the family to the celebration of their mother’s presence in their lives.

It was a joy to hear all her children—Loy, Raul, Dondee and Danny plus their wives and children—speak of their love for the grand lady, Rosita Arcenas. It was Raul who said, ”Wherever we find ourselves, whether in the States, or in Afghanistan or in some outlandish place, we all come home to our center, where our Mom is." (Dr. Ramon Arcenas passed away a long time ago.) What a beautiful evening it was to feel outpourings of love for a lady who gave them so much love.

I guess most of us know the tremendous important of presence. I overheard a friend say, “Now that Mom and Dad are gone, I don’t know when the 10 of us will come together again for reunions.”

Love needs nurturing. As children grow, they need to see this love even if it's given during bedtime stories, even when it's just a quick hug from Dad as he plops in an armchair after work. Sometimes, it’s a quick answer from Mom on her cell phone when one is feeling sick and asking for help. When Mom says, “I’m coming to get you. Stay at the school clinic because I’m picking you up right away,” we feel secure. Moments of this kind of love is what strengthens a family.

Even a text message saying “hi, just want you to know I love you” is part of presence. Tucking children to sleep is presence. Wouldn’t it be wonderful for our families if we spent more time with them?