Ima (Mother)

I’ve kept on wondering what else my mother cannot do. I have asked this because I was raised by she whom I perceive to be the most powerful among all of God’s creatures. I should add: when I was very young I never admired superman, the president, my teacher, ‘wok with Yan’, ms. universe, the pope, etc. in their respective aspects as much as I admired her. She is a human par excellence. 

Yet slowly I noticed that even a super-human grows old and gets sick & weak. I had denied these to myself. But with obvious changes like her hair fading to gray & white, her age 61 this year, her health no longer as good as before and her memory slightly fading, I should accept that she, too, has limitations. But where did my mom’s superpowers go? 

Flashback-- we did not have our TV until I was 12. But our mom managed to buy a radio which was enough to muster the three of us together especially in the evening listening to Beinte Quatro Oras, Si Mata, Gabi ng Lagim, Tiya Dely , etc. By the way, we did not mind blackouts then—backed up by 8 pieces of size-C batteries.

We did not have a big cushioned bed. But she managed to put a bamboo bed which gave us enough warmth because we needed to compress to each other. Well, could there be a more securing night than the feeling of being close beside each other? Oh, and that papag? That was also our dining table. 

We did not have our own car or even a bicycle but we never skipped to be in the Sunday Mass and find time and ways to go to places so as to enjoy and relax.

How about this? We prayed together before going to bed and for all that I remember we did it unfailingly every night. 

We were not brought to expensive schools but we had the most qualified personal tutor available everyday whom we comfortably called Ima. 

We did not have our electric fan. But she provided us kulambo [mosquito net] at night. And in time for siesta and we had each of us who played alternate paypayan. If it were our turn, my mom, would say, “ agyang bulyon yu na la mu deng lango. Ali yu na pakapepe…” [you don't have to fan me uninterruptedly. You can just drive those flies away] 

We only had our own house in 2009. Before that we were renting a small place where our mom established a sari-sari store and a turo-turo. I was 12 when due to our Lola’s request we transferred to the house in Gulot Capitol (please check your 500 peso bill) where she helped in cooking, washing clothes, serving food, and all. It wasn’t convenient, as far as I was concerned, but I knew we had a home wherever she would bring us.

We had only our sari-sari store with a small turo-turo and one another on which to me were more than enough!

At the end of each day, I would search for her tired hands so as to hold and inhale the smell of her toil out of her love for us. I had always told her that she has the most beautiful hands with the most pleasant smell in the world. The scent and touch of her hands could put me to tight sleep and give me sweet dreams. The hands that cooked our food, cleaned our clothes, prepared our school bags, bathed us, applied baby oil or vicks vaporub or aziete manzanilla to our back, helped on our school projects, folded our bed sheets, applauded for our performances and recognitions in school, those are the mightiest hands I had seen. Now the bionic hands are slightly deformed and suffer arthritis.

I don’t know well in accounting. But the way she managed to fit in the budget for me and my sister to go to school, feed us more than three times a day, provide our allowances when necessary and our new clothes during Christmas--  she must be a CPA with doctorate degree.

She has made everything well enough! She taught us to be grateful despite the experience of having the difficult times. She showed us the beauty of life when relished together. 

Mom has already counted 32 Mothers’ Day from the day she gave birth to ate Ann. The most powerful woman in our life is continuously aging and will not be able to forever sustain her physical and mental strength. She will not be infinitely physically present until our grandchildren’s grandchildren and so forth. But she will never leave us. 

And she has trained super-humans [super-parents] who are on their way: My Ate to her children-to-be and I to mine. All these we owe to her love that never dies.