I CAN feel that my mother wishes she could be with me every day. I feel guilty for not spending time with her for months, which saddens me. My busy work schedule and other obligations have made it challenging to talk with her, as we used to do. I feel bad every time I notice the numerous missed calls from my mom, and although I used to return her calls immediately, I often failed to do so. This situation pains me, and it brings me to tears, but in my mind, I do not know why.
When I pass by the road near Mommy’s house in the mornings, I wish I could stop by to say hello like the old days. Unfortunately, time is unforgiving, and doing so might make me late for work or prevent me from meeting my responsibilities.
As a result, I rely on my children to visit their grandmother, and although I understand that it is not enough, I wish again to be there.
Some people might wrongly think that I don’t care anymore, but in my heart, God knows my love for my mother is unwavering.
And during my lunch breaks, while eating alone and finishing my paperwork, I cannot help but think of my mother’s face.
When I was a child, my mom took me to Shrine Matina, where she let me play in the playground, riding the swing, as if everything was good. Afterward, we sit on the grass and eat together while watching others laugh with their parents and siblings. In my heart, I wish we were also complete.
Our meals were simple, containing boiled eggs and rice in a container. Sometimes, there was not much to eat, and she would skip her meal to ensure enough for us. My mom struggled to support us when Dad left and went to Pampanga.
But despite the scarcity, our love and concern for each other strengthened us. Sadly, we always wished for our family to be intact. I miss those days dearly, and my mother does too.
Now, inside the office, I ponder whether Mom has had her meal and is in good health. I wish I had been with her when she complained of ankle pains. These are the thoughts that occupy my mind and stab my heart. The memories I share with Mom are the ones I never want to fade away. I understand that Mom’s direct speaking may only sometimes please others, but I wholeheartedly believe that as one of her children, Mom is one of the world’s greatest mothers.
After work, it was every day that we passed by the road near my mom’s house, and it was usually past eight in the evening. I am aware that she is already asleep at that time. I must say that it saddens me that I cannot seem to find the time to visit her when she’s available.
But, I must honestly confess that these might just be my excuses, and I know deep down that I can make it happen. So, why do I find it so challenging? Why can’t things be like they used to be, where, regardless of my workload and responsibilities, I made it a point to visit Mom every week and talk to her?
This question will continue to haunt me unless I confront the reality and act. I deeply long for Mom, and God is aware of it. Not seeing my Tatay, Sister Anne, and brothers Dave and Deboy weighs heavily on me. It is no longer acceptable that I cannot attend for special occasions, especially when I have known for many years that our celebrations are incomplete when one of us is absent. My heart aches as the warmth of their hugs and kisses I do not anymore feel, Lord.
The pain I feel is like death.
Perhaps in my next story, I will have the courage to express my thoughts and feelings further.
Are the constraints of deadlines preventing me from visiting Mom, or are there other reasons I ignore? For now, I am sure that I would not have existed if it were not for Mom. Oh, to the world, my mom is my most cherished treasure. But why do I struggle to express what I truly feel? In my heart, I feel I did not stop loving Mommy, but I did it in silence.
Only my heart truly knows.