Dear Mommy

* This was supposed to be sent Saturday, April 14, but there was no internet at home. I also wanted to add pictures of Mom for effect, but, like I said, no Net at home. Posting this from the office, and there’s no FB access here, which is where I store photos of Mom. But wanted to get this posted as it is way overdue. So here goes. 

I’m very blessed to have had a motherly mother. I was gonna say that I think that life is so much better with a mother around. But, I realized that not everyone got to have a caring mother. I’ve heard of mothers who get so gigil with their children they slap them around. Or push them, verbally abuse them, abandon them. Fortunately for me, my mom was all about her children. When she and my dad separated, she choose to bring us all the way to America even if everything was more expensive there and she had to be a single mom. When her boyfriend after my dad called me stupid because I didn’t get my vomiting brother to the bathroom fast enough, she kicked him out of the house. She was not there, she had no proof that it actually happened, it could’ve been my word against his, and she took my word. (That’s why I don’t understand mothers who don’t believe their daughters when they admit to have been raped by their fathers/step-fathers). When her mother unfairly berated me one time, she stood up to her, even if it caused her tears after. She made sure we took good care of our teeth, diligently kept all of our doctors’ appointments, even went the extra mile to enroll us in extracurricular activities even if we were tight on money. When we were about to leave for the Philippines and she was all but bedridden with cancer, she mustered up the energy to take me to the mall to do last minute shopping. She was frail, bald, and panting. Yet, her love for me was so great that she put in that extra effort to afford me a trivial request.
And boooooy, at the time, I did not deserve the love, dedication and kindness. I was such a huge brat who only thought of herself (When we came home, people kept referring to me as the tantrumy kid. “Ooooh, Kristel! You’re so big now! You know, when you were little, you were such a brat!”).
Needless to say, I adored my mother. She was strong. She was her own woman. She got a perfect score on her DMV driving test. She could drive like a man. She suffered abuse (secret nalang with regards to from whom), was smart enough to save herself from it, took us to a foreign land and raised three kids by herself (well, okay, with the help of Lola). She built a household, re-started her career, fought two battles with cancer, won one, lost the other.
My life sucked considerably after she passed on. In hindsight, even I deteriorated from her loss. I didn’t know it until recently. Only when I started to really look at myself and pinpointed when I had become the negative person that I’d become (I’m climbing my way up again now, by the way). Through the hardships, I sometimes think of her and I KNOW that the turbulence would be less bumpy and more bearable if she were still around. Being a momma’s girl (bordering on obsessed, actually. You couldn’t get me away from   her, even during my teen years. And I was told that as a child, I wouldn’t let anyone near her when I was around), I miss being able to hug her, shop with her, talk to her, do things with her. But loving her so much, I’m also overjoyed that she is 15 years in bliss. A woman like her deserves that. And she has that now, being up in heaven with Our Saviour. So most parts, I’m also glad she is where she is because then no one and nothing can hurt her or bring her grief. That’s why I think it would be apt to say, “Happy Happy Death Anniversary Momski Bomski. We love you”. 

And boooooy, at the time, I did not deserve the love, dedication and kindness. I was such a huge brat who only thought of herself (When we came home, people kept referring to me as the tantrumy kid. “Ooooh, Kristel! You’re so big now! You know, when you were little, you were such a brat!”).
Needless to say, I adored my mother. She was strong. She was her own woman. She got a perfect score on her DMV driving test. She could drive like a man. She suffered abuse (secret nalang with regards to from whom), was smart enough to save herself from it, took us to a foreign land and raised three kids by herself (well, okay, with the help of Lola). She built a household, re-started her career, fought two battles with cancer, won one, lost the other.
My life sucked considerably after she passed on. In hindsight, even I deteriorated from her loss. I didn’t know it until recently. Only when I started to really look at myself and pinpointed when I had become the negative person that I’d become (I’m climbing my way up again now, by the way). Through the hardships, I sometimes think of her and I KNOW that the turbulence would be less bumpy and more bearable if she were still around. Being a momma’s girl (bordering on obsessed, actually. You couldn’t get me away from   her, even during my teen years. And I was told that as a child, I wouldn’t let anyone near her when I was around), I miss being able to hug her, shop with her, talk to her, do things with her. But loving her so much, I’m also overjoyed that she is 15 years in bliss. A woman like her deserves that. And she has that now, being up in heaven with Our Saviour. So most parts, I’m also glad she is where she is because then no one and nothing can hurt her or bring her grief. That’s why I think it would be apt to say, “Happy Happy Death Anniversary Momski Bomski. We love you”. 

I’m very blessed to have had a motherly mother. I was gonna say that I think that life is so much better with a mother around. But, I realized that not everyone got to have a caring mother. I’ve heard of mothers who get so gigil with their children they slap them around. Or push them, verbally abuse them, abandon them. Fortunately for me, my mom was all about her children. When she and my dad separated, she choose to bring us all the way to America even if everything was more expensive there and she had to be a single mom. When her boyfriend after my dad called me stupid because I didn’t get my vomiting brother to the bathroom fast enough, she kicked him out of the house. She was not there, she had no proof that it actually happened, it could’ve been my word against his, and she took my word. (That’s why I don’t understand mothers who don’t believe their daughters when they admit to have been raped by their fathers/step-fathers). When her mother unfairly berated me one time, she stood up to her, even if it caused her tears after. She made sure we took good care of our teeth, diligently kept all of our doctors’ appointments, even went the extra mile to enroll us in extracurricular activities even if we were tight on money. When we were about to leave for the Philippines and she was all but bedridden with cancer, she mustered up the energy to take me to the mall to do last minute shopping. She was frail, bald, and panting. Yet, her love for me was so great that she put in that extra effort to afford me a trivial request.
And boooooy, at the time, I did not deserve the love, dedication and kindness. I was such a huge brat who only thought of herself (When we came home, people kept referring to me as the tantrumy kid. “Ooooh, Kristel! You’re so big now! You know, when you were little, you were such a brat!”).
Needless to say, I adored my mother. She was strong. She was her own woman. She got a perfect score on her DMV driving test. She could drive like a man. She suffered abuse (secret nalang with regards to from whom), was smart enough to save herself from it, took us to a foreign land and raised three kids by herself (well, okay, with the help of Lola). She built a household, re-started her career, fought two battles with cancer, won one, lost the other.
My life sucked considerably after she passed on. In hindsight, even I deteriorated from her loss. I didn’t know it until recently. Only when I started to really look at myself and pinpointed when I had become the negative person that I’d become (I’m climbing my way up again now, by the way). Through the hardships, I sometimes think of her and I KNOW that the turbulence would be less bumpy and more bearable if she were still around. Being a momma’s girl (bordering on obsessed, actually. You couldn’t get me away from   her, even during my teen years. And I was told that as a child, I wouldn’t let anyone near her when I was around), I miss being able to hug her, shop with her, talk to her, do things with her. But loving her so much, I’m also overjoyed that she is 15 years in bliss. A woman like her deserves that. And she has that now, being up in heaven with Our Saviour. So most parts, I’m also glad she is where she is because then no one and nothing can hurt her or bring her grief. That’s why I think it would be apt to say, “Happy Happy Death Anniversary Momski Bomski. We love you”. 
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s