Press "Enter" to skip to content

Honoring My Mother | 13.13

Missing someone manifests in both good times and trying situations. In my case, while it has been thirteen years since she had left us, in that same amount of years, I still find myself asking, what would she have done whenever I encountered a problem. For our papa on the other hand, a happy occasion in the family would always trigger him to automatically say, ‘if only she were here’, as though sharing the moment with her. In both situations, she would always be that constant, like the sun from where we get our light and where our world revolves around.

On this thirteenth of August and the thirteenth year anniversary of her death, bittersweet, or sad and happy memories return like a migrating flock, back to their nesting grounds. After all, it is Kadayawan month and for the city, it is festival time once again. I remember that after her untimely passing in 07, we in the family have all passed up on the month of August’s revelry and celebration.

However, who can forget that when she was alive, the yearly Kadayawan used to be one of her busiest times, with dinners to attend, competitions to co-judge and awards to give or receive. One fond memory of mine involves mom parading before us one indigenous costume after another, so that we might suggest what she should wear for the evening. All in August, all bittersweet and amusing at times, but all definitely past us.

In light of the present quarantine and social distancing measures still placed in effect by both the national and city government, it had likewise been decided that the celebration of Kadayawan should be limited as digitally-based events, and therefore viewable only through either tv or online. At this, it confounds me to think, how would momsy cope under the conditions?

As only she could I reckon. The only dent 2020 might have in her love of work might probably be a full stop on her going out. She’d have more time online, and much more impact-ful presence at home, with some of us on alert for tech support.

For one, writer that she was, mom had not exactly been your modern and tech-y type, being naturally more comfortable with the old school’s pen and typewriter. It had even been an inch short of a miracle that she finally learned to encode her stories and articles in a personal computer, despite not fully knowing all about the Word. Of course, during those early years of 2000s, we were all her technical support services.

I will definitely be glad once this month is finally over. For one, Jose Marie Chan’s song would finally be back on the airwaves. Of course, I would still welcome the return of August next year, but the only reason for that would be because of my memories of mom.

Author

Powered By ICTC/DRS