There's no escaping
Krawi
at
9:29 PM
It's my mom's birthday!
I don't know how old she turns today nor how independent she's become since my brother went to college. And I don't want to imagine how fit and slim she's been since the day she started preferring climbing mountains to sweeping the living room floor.
I'm certain about her being past fifty, even though her 25-inch waistline doesn't say so. At times, I'm afraid about her feeling lonely for not having my brother and I to take care of anymore. But then I forget how strong she is despite her 4'11 frame, a survivor in her own right, tried and tested by the pros and cons of growing up with 13 siblings in a conservative household run with iron fist.
It was the same household that defined her strength. It was the same strength that almost tore our relationship apart and then helped stitch up the holes in our hearts. She's a lover of peace and prefers tranquility, but she never backs down on any crisis, even if it means reporting her own brother to the barangay captain for trespassing on her property. These days she spends most of her time on the farm where cobras roam free 'til my mom spots them and crushes their heads with her mighty stick.
The last time my mom and I chatted was when I told her about wanting to ditch my job in Cebu to work in some government office in Butuan instead. She gave me the word wallop, a verbal smack that still throbbed from time to time. I suppose she was right about the whole 'big city-big opportunities' sermon, it's just that for the first time in my life I actually want to be with her. For the first time in twenty four years I actually want to restart a life in Butuan - the place I swore never to set foot on again - because I know her life would be easier with me by her side.
I never told her this. I guess I'll never have the guts to bare my soul to my own mother. I may never tell her how I missed hearing her voice in the morning amid the chorus of the neighbor's roosters, and of how much I enjoyed bonding over prime time soap operas and late night shows on our ten-year-old TV freshly stripped of its cable connection.
She may never see this blog and I may never express how I feel. But then again, one hug is all it takes for her to get my message.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 wishes and swishes:
Post a Comment