Waiting for Mom

I was expecting I would be sent home early.  I guess that wasn’t happening because we were just too busy here at work.  I’m not complaining.  The boss has been very laxed during this period when I had major childcare issues.  Barring a medical emergency, Mom arrives tomorrow evening.  I cannot wait.

I just hope she isn’t too upset I wasn’t able to postpone  her trip.  I couldn’t even dream of trying because of the monumental cost.


I’m just happy she will be here again.  The past two years with Mom present in New York most of the time have been a truly remarkable bonding experience between her and me.  Although I am not literally her first born, (a brother four years older had passed away at birth before I came along), Mom and I have a special bond now that we are both mothers.  We have our own personality differences and like most Moms, she is sometimes difficult to please, but I know that deep in her heart, she wants only the best for her children.


Looking at myself as a Mother, I realize that we get our maternal instincts from our own Mothers.  Whether it is to do what they had done while raising us, or avoiding their missteps along the way, it cannot be denied that the way we relate to our mothers factors greatly into the way we relate to our own children.  (Right, Ces?  Lani?)  I would be the last person to say one turns out the way their parents were.  I think we all choose our destinies, but it cannot be denied that what we become is greatly influenced by the lives that shaped ours.


I had a mentor somewhere in my early years on the workforce while I worked for a boutique Advertising Agency a lifetime or two ago who told me time and time again that we can only give that which we have.  Hence if we have compassion, we can give it.  If we were given love, we can give it as well.  If we were shown patience, then we would be able to be patient with others as well.  So what our parents had given us is what we give in return – be it good or bad.


I have learned so many things from my Mom’s life and the way that she lived it that I cannot single out anything more outstanding than the other.  Her life is telenovela material, a testament to her capacity for sacrifice and selflessness.  I think while she and I are two very different people, we are the same in the way we love.  We hang on to our passion as if our life depended on it, and we protect those we love with a tenacity only a Mother would know.


And once more she has come through with that selfless love of a grandmother – coming to my rescue for the love of her baby and precious grandson.  I know I am asking a lot of her when I ask her to stay here for extended periods of time.  Her health, while not totally frail, has been rather unpredictable.  We are constantly arguing about what is causing whatever she is feeling.  Like most of the elderly, she like to self-prognosticate – and there I am, the daughter playing devil’s advocate.


I wish I could raise my family here and keep her where she would be happy – the boondocks of Bulan.  10,000 miles is just too far that I hate thinking about how things will be a year from now when she completes her three year tour of duty and returns to Manila for good.  For now, I have my final year.. that is more than I can hope for.

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