The Eastern Samar Community Blog

Forty days after, I still can’t seem to have the grip on the fact that she’s gone. It was a regular afternoon and I just woke up. My memory of the events that occurred on that day is imbued in my consciousness as though it was the back of my hand. The prelude to this unfortunate date (May 14) started with a message from Auntie Mems a day before, it was a simple “mana, is in the hospital she is having difficulty in breathing”. It was a message that sent deep chill to my bones. A day after that, my mind was still trying adjust from waking up I read the text message sent by my sister. It said, “kuya you need to be on the next plane for Manila, mom is not in a good condition”.

The adrenaline rush that filled my bloodstream put me in a “floating sense”. I just woke up and now my body is rushing to pack my things while my head is still way up there in the clouds. The thought of loosing my mom was sinking into me and I readily dismissed it because I do not want to accept it. An hour later, with my flight ready and was about to go to the airport, a call came in. It was my brother this time, he told me to talk to my mom on the phone. I heard her responding to me with muffled words and her voice grew faint. I told her to wait for me because in an hour I will be there. Her next respond was hard to muster and sounded like that of a person struggling. I begged her to hold on and wait for me and she responded with a long “ahhhh.” It was the last response that she gave to me because while I was on the door to go outside and get a cab another call came in. Now it was my sister, “mom is gone” that phrase was like a resounding sound of a gong that made me deaf for a while. I battled within myself in keeping a sense of sanity because the feeling that governed me at that present circumstance was unbearable.The first respond came from my conscience and said “there you go”. It made me think for a while. At that feeling of lowliness I came to realize the fact that I have been ignoring my mother for the past years. The years that I spent in neglecting her was brought to a pedestal that served as an icon of my own stupidity and now the voice in me said, “there you go you lost her!”

Forty days after her death, I long for her strong voice. The voice that would reverberate during my dark days to lead me out of it. I long for her presence that stood as a pillar where I can lean on. Many times I dared to venture out of her grasp and proudly said, “I will stand in my own two feet.” Yes, I was standing on my own two feet but she was there to support me in spite of her illness. I was standing but she was holding me tightly because in reality I could not . There were those nights when I didn’t have anything to eat and just with one text sent to her, the problem was solved. There were those days where I didn’t have any dough in my pocket and just with one text, another problem solved. Talked about independence, what I become was a pain the butt. She was always there ready to help her son. She was always there ready to lend a hand but never was I. Life was hard, but she was still there in her own ways of making sure that I was all right. She was a mother in her own right, not maybe the ideal one but the best. That is all that is left for me to say. Now I tread this harsh life without her. I don’t have her all embracing arms anymore to guide me, to help me, and to perk me up with her warm love. The painful part, I didn’t relish her love. I didn’t even kept my promise to give her a McDonald rice burger every time I would get my salary.

Forty seven years of my mother’s life was spent to help others. She got married and reared children but still have not forgotten her other role in this world. She was a daughter, an elder sister, a cousin, a friend, a Catholic servant and a government employee, all these she took up with no complains and she was the best. She was called by various names by others depending on how close she was to their lives. I can still remember my childhood days when our house would be visited by teachers from different places of the province who wanted to inquire about their salaries. She would always find time to explain stuff to them and clarify the matter. At church, she was always hyper-active to lend a hand during her young days much more when she got married. She was a friend that was always ready to help. For me, she is my mother that deserved so much love but I failed to impart it. Forty seven years later she’s gone. I would like to think of it as though she took a trip somewhere but with that thought comes the hope that she will return. But the she ain’t, she ain’t…

Forty days since her death, I remember when I saw my mother at UST’s morgue placed on a platter lying in the freezer. She was in deep sleep. No one could wake her up even if I tell her how much I loved her. At that time I really wished she was “Sleeping Beauty”. Hoping, that with a whisk of something magical or the kiss of my father she would wake up and all is well. But not, it was not gonna happen. It was the time that I accepted the fact that she was gone. The events that followed after, came in a fast paced mode. The nine days of wake was like a television scene happening in front me. It came so fast and ended up quickly. Nevertheless, I could not forget the people that were there to help our family to give their condolences, their love and some financial help. Their presence lifted us up during those days. I would like to express my sincere admiration to the batch mates of my mother in Saint Joseph (Batch 76). When they learned that my mother died they were there immediately to lend a hand. Tito Arnel, a man that I first met during my mom’s wake made sure that she would get the best service from the funeral parlor. I really felt that they loved my mom. Ninang Bejoy was one of them, she was with our family from day one. She has been on mom’s bedside. As my mother’s best friend, I can still remember how Ninang would be quick to respond whenever she was called by her. Ninang Bejoy was a friend who manifested love and care at the outmost level. I would like to thank her and the rest of Batch 76 for making my mother’s last months a cheerful one with their visits. There are a lot of people that I need to thank besides from our relatives but they are practically too many to be named. My father was right indeed when he said that mother had a lot of friends because I felt and saw them. To all of you, our family is forever grateful in being with us and helping us during those days.

Let me end this with Josh Groban’s song entitled: “She’s Out of my Life”. The lyrics goes, “she’s out of my life and I don’t know whether to live or die and cuts like a knife she’s out of my life… “Thank you Nanay, no one in this world can be in par with the life that you lived and the love that you gave. Again, you might not be the ideal mom but you were the BEST!