If I were to describe my relationship with my Mom, I would say it was a wild roller coaster ride. A classic telenovela where this kid (me) wanted to do what she wanted to do and her mother would question why she wanted to do what she wanted. Typical, you know. Such Q&A sessions inadvertently ended up with a fight where the rebel kid (yes, I admit I was rebellious) who had trouble communicating would go against the wishes of mother dear and later on, a bigger fight would ensue. Kid thought, we’d end up arguing and I’d end up being reprimanded anyway, better have my bit of fun and deal with the warden later.
Of course, no kid wanted to be restricted. And although even then I could understand how the restrictions were for my own good, it takes a good deal of mistakes committed over years of one’s life before I actually appreciated how it was necessary. No mom wants her child to fall into harm. Unless she was… uhm… sick in the head, I guess. But restrictive or no, moms always wanted what’s best for the children.
Now, I’m 42. Almost at the same age she was when she had to deal with a twenty-something fresh out of school irrational young adult and I can say, especially after living apart for more than a decade, that Mom and I have grown from worst enemies to ideal best friends. The absence from each other’s presence made that so as did the realization that she and I was, is and will always stand on different planes. We both just needed to recognize and understand things from each one’s perspective and respect whatever difference there was.
Mom, I don’t think I have ever said it enough, but I thank you for everything. Things may have been harsh, there were years when we may have been too selfish to acknowledge we wronged each other. But all that has helped shape our relationship and we are stronger than ever, right?
One of the things I will always treasure as a lesson from you were our serious mother-daughter talks (habang binubunutan kita ng buhok sa kilikili) and you would tell me, ‘No sayang thoughts (No regrets).’ In our conversations (okay, fine, you blabbed, I just listened), you harped on and on about reaching my goals, going after what I wanted, staying put wasn’t going to help me – these all helped me be the independent, responsible adult I am now (I hope).
I haven’t been a perfect daughter. God knows I will never be one. But that’s by anybody else’s standards. I am perfect for you, you are perfect for me. We are perfect for our family.
Happy Mother’s Day, Filomena! Thank you eternally for keeping this family together. For being the guiding light for all of us.