I miss talking about life already… you know, sans the poetry and whatnot. I’m tired of hiding behind the words. So, today I’m fulfilling a promise I made to Joni – that on Mother’s day, I’ll talk about my Mama.

So this is how the story will start.

There was a family financial crisis when I was born and my Mom was suffering from a heart disease. The hospital was her second home. I remember hearing a story that a certain doctor advised my Mom to abort me when I was just 3 months in her womb or else she / both of us might die.

I do not have moments with her taking good care of me, teaching me to comb my hair, preparing my clothes or watching me learn how to write — but she gave me a gift of blessed and beautiful life. The fact that she chose to suffer and face death just to let me live is really more than enough to thank her.

Growing up without her makes me become a Papa’s girl but I have always believed that she is my angel who is continuously guiding me until now; someone who is always there to bring me back to reality everytime I found myself lost in the dreamland.

Unlike everyone else who participated at Joni’s I heart my Mom meme, my Mama and I didn’t have a chance to have a picture together. In fact, I don’t even have baby pictures but my eldest kuyas and ate has. I’ve only got two or three I guess.

I used to think maybe because there’s a World War during my childhood days that’s why I don’t have childhood pictures := it was only during the teenage years when I realized how the crisis caused so much sadness to our family.

What I have here instead are Mama’s pictures before she died. Look how beautiful she is.

The picture on the right side are during her University beauty queen days; below is my parents’ vintage 1966 wedding invitation and a copy of University newspaper which says: “Then a muse, now a bride…”

Her death has brought a lot of realization to me that – indeed, nobody’s really perfect in this world.

My Mama seems to have everything – kindness, beauty, graduated Magna Cum Laude, became a literature professor, a poet and fiction writer. Everything was good and right except for one thing – her congenital heart disease.

Sigh. I guess that’s how the game of irony is played.

If she’s here right now, she’s probably blogging and I am so sure she’ll be picking on some of my sentence structures and grammar issues.

Happy mother’s day Mama. I am sorry if bearing me has caused you to suffer. Don’t worry, I am still keeping my promise to take good care of this opportunity to live.