Your story. My promise.

It’s been a while since I last write about things that matter to me the most (love letters not included).  I guess it’s been a decade since I made a promise that I won’t write again, that I won’t be read again without paying tribute first to the person I admire the most. To the woman I look up to the most. To my mother to whom I owe my life with. I don’t intend to start my blog with melancholic writings. But I know, this is something that I really have to do. I have tried so many times, but every time I feel the pain, every time emptiness sinks in, I stopped. But today, I will try again and hopefully succeed. Today, I will write about you ‘Nay, I will tell your story, your love, your battle.

I was fourteen when I lost my mom, I lost her to cancer, malignant lymphoma. During those times, young as I was, I did not know what cancer is, true that I heard of it, but never pay attention to it until one day. It was a painful experience to four of us, her children, and especially to my dad. Until now, I have questions in my mind. My mom died because of cancer, and was diagnosed to it 13 years before her death, but we ( my sisters and I) only found out about it two months before Mr. Joe Black took her away from us.

Nobody told me what my mother is going through with. I remember there was one time that our father would tell us that my mom is ill, but he never tells us with what. And we never really get that. My mom is strong. She is a kind who always wanted to be busy. She always does something. She rides her bicycle every time. My mother was an Avon lady, and I guess one of the best! She always brings home trophies or plaques of recognition, indicating therein that she generates sales the most. My mother knows how to sew. When we were young, she was the one who made our Sunday dresses. In my memories, my mother is an active woman, always-on-the-go. She have this kind of laugh which is so loud (well now, I realize where I get my kind of laugh), she have this aura of passion, she nags, but once everything is cool, we would make fun of what she nags about.

My mother riding her bicycle

She is this active person, doing everything she wants to do, providing us with everything we need to have. But at the back of her mind, there is cancer that threatens her life, opposite her smiles are worries and fears, she is having sleepless nights worrying about us, our future,  while we are having soundless sleep knowing that tomorrow, my mom would still be there taking care of our breakfast and what clothes to put in. 

Nanay and Tatay (90's something)

I have said that we never know what she’s going through. My parents were good in keeping secrets. For thirteen years, they kept that to themselves. For so long she is having her check-ups in Philippine General Hospital and we never had any idea., they would tell us that my mom have to go to Manila to buy supplies for my dad, my dad is an electrician, he usually buy things to Quaipo. So they have a concrete alibi with that one. Fool as we were, we never have doubted, but well, who would? We love that she goes to Manila, because when she gets home, she always have something for all of us. Little did we know...

But no secrets can be kept untold. Time has come. Her illness is getting the best of her. There were nights that she can’t sleep because of pain, there were nights that we would hear her sobbing in tears, trying so hard to keep it to herself, so that we won’t worry, so that we could have that soundless sleep she always wanted us to have.

Up to now, I have this thought that what if we have money, what if we can give her proper medication. Yes I know, cancer, most of the time is a dead end, but if we have money, we could have provided her with right medicines, we could have lessened the pain she is bearing. We could have done that. But during those times, we only have things enough to make us through the day.

Nanay and I, (recognition day, I'm probably 10 yrs old here)

My mother’s medication, her chemo therapy doesn’t cost much. Because what has been used for her therapies are expired dosages. We only knew about that when she was gone. My mother did not opt for expensive treatments, she worries that that would make us poorer than poor. My dad told us that there is this nurse in PGH that loves my mom so dearly that talks about this treatment, she shouldn’t pay much, but they believe that it would still have an effect on her illness. Expired medication, that is the reason why she never loses her hair, the medication wasn’t strong enough.  Until now, I have mixed emotions regarding that matter. I wished my mom didn’t worry about us that much, that she worried for herself more instead, but what do I know, I’m not a mother. Maybe that what is being a mother requires. Selfless love. And I would ask myself why did my father did not stop her, why did he not insist? But knowing my mom, I understand my dad, my mother is very persistent when it comes to us. She is really strict when it comes to our welfare, there were times that she would nag at us because she is so concerned about us., so my dad just let my mom decide for her welfare, because my mom’s welfare is us.

And after her long battle to malignant lymphoma, she passed away, August 17, 2000. Her death weakened and strengthened us. We were all so wounded. I was so wounded. I have been lost. I was angry. I was just fourteen and I don’t have a mother. There was no one to attend to my JS Prom night needs. I have no mother to plan my 18^th birthday. I have no one to talk to about my teenager problems. In my mind, it was all just unfair. In our minds and hearts, fate played with us. I was fourteen years old but I have to plan my future alone.

My mother passing is a test we, my family, never thought will going to pass. We healed by ourselves. Each of us find comfort in the hands of other people, we seldom talk about it. That was how deep the scars were. My father tried to reach out. But we were so much in pain, that we rather drown ourselves with the punches of life. But one day, the scars are still there but I don’t know exactly how and why, we stood up again as a family, caring for each other so much, having this thought in our minds, that one day, when we see our mother again, we could say: “Nay, you made us all this! Hindi kayo nabigo ng Tatay sa plano nyong buhay para sa amin”.

College graduation. (My dad with my 3 sisters)

It’s been over a decade now, and I still wish you are with us today and in our every tomorrows. I can’t imagine how you lived your life. I can’t imagine how strong you were. I wish we knew differently, I wish we shared with you your battle, your tears, but I guess that is how you wanted it to be. You wanted us to live with your memories, without sickness, without fears, you wanted to be strong for us to be strong.

Now I understand why God took you away from us when we were little. Because God doesn’t want you, His child, to be in more pain. You have suffered enough my dear mother. In God’s arm, in a place where you are today, you can sleep tight. Have no worries because when you wake up, all of us will be by your side. Telling you our stories. When you wake up, no cancer can ever weaken you again, no sickness can make you fall again.

Nanay, I love you and I will forever miss you.

See you in the other side of the rainbow!