God really works in mysterious ways.
When Mama passed away last year, I seriously struggled with my daily life.
I couldn’t even remember what happened months after her death; everything was a blur.
At that time, I went for days without getting out of bed and found myself just constantly crying. I temporarily found solace in my dark room, with my two dogs never leaving my side.
No, I wasn’t suicidal; I was only not functioning.
I always went to church and prayed. My aunts and cousins have been there, but I guess it hits differently because Mama is not there anymore.
Who do I talk to now about how my day went? I suddenly lost that sense of belonging.
And all of a sudden, I had to be responsible and learn adulting.
All my life, Mama was always there to take care of my needs, and now she’s not.
Little did I know, the Lord knew my struggles and sent someone my way in an expected way.
It was October last year when I formally met her, the woman who I now consider my adoptive mother.
The random chats turned into more serious talks, and I suddenly found myself running to her, telling her about how my day went and my daily struggles living without my mother.
She, too, lost her precious only daughter years ago.
One time, she told me she often wonders what happens to a child if her parents go ahead. And after meeting me, she said her questions were answered.
God led us to find each other unexpectedly.
I’m always thankful for her “everyday mom things.” She would often remind me to never miss my meals and eat substantial food because hunger makes me grumpy and stressful.
She also reminds me to get at least eight hours of sleep and not play too many video games - that I need more sleep so I won’t be stressed the following day.
Even if she’s far away, I can always feel her presence because she’s with me every day and helping me with my daily struggles.
Basically, she was my shock absorber. She was there for me, even if she had things going on on her end.
She would always tell me to make my Mama proud by continuing to live my life - that grief will always be there, but I have to learn to swim with it.
She was my second home.
And the best part is that she went to see me in Bacolod a few months ago for my birthday, as well as meet my family, my workmates, and my two dogs.
This Christmas, I couldn’t thank the Lord enough.
Even if I’m missing Mama so much, He placed my family and my second home there with me to make it more bearable.
Thank you, Lord.*
Marchel P. Espina is the editor-in-chief of SunStar Bacolod. She dedicates this jottings to Esther, her second home.