I Miss You, Mommy

It has been 10 days, Mommy...

I chose not to go to Ali's graduation today. It is selfish of me, I know. I didn't want to remind myself even more that you won't be there with us as Ali goes up on stage. You loved that institute so much. Every corner of it will just remind me of you.

That day you closed your eyes, I knew it would forever break my heart. It hurt me so much to see the strongest person I know fade away.

You taught us to be God-fearing as ever. I remember that day when I had a toothache, and I asked you how come God wouldn't cure my toothache. You said we weren't supposed to question God, that He knew what He was doing.

Then came the day you started hurting, and you started questioning God.

In that moment, I knew your pain was heavy because you wouldn't do so unless it was something big. Still, you prayed hard. Not just for your healing, but for us too.

I'm sorry, Mommy, for not being there at all times. Believe me, I tried to carve up my 24 hours for you and Koko. I guess it was just not enough.

I remember wishing so hard to win the lotto so we could afford to send you to a better hospital. Somewhere maybe out of the country, where technology was much more advanced. My wishes were not granted, though. Then I wished that if I wouldn't win the lottery, at least you would get well.

My wish was granted in a bittersweet way.

You are no longer in pain, Mommy. You are now well in God's arms.

Seeing you on that hospital bed that day crushed my heart so badly. I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get to kiss or hug you. I didn't get to hold your hand. I didn't get to say I love you.

A lot of people showed up during your wake. A lot of people got in touch with us. They told us stories of how you touched their lives. They shared their prayers and their time. The people you helped back then gave us abuloy and all.

At that moment, I honestly thought, "Mommy, eto na sana 'yung kailangan natin pampagamot mo, kaya lang wala ka naman."

I'm sorry if I thought that way. All of them came because they loved you, Mommy. They weren't just there to share our sadness. They were there because they themselves were sad.

Back in second grade, while you were putting Jyron to sleep, we were playing your favorite Neil Sedaka cassette tape. You said that if God took you away, you would like to have "Rosemary Blue" playing in the background.

I started to dislike that song because of what you said. I'm sorry. Mommy, I think I even threw that tape away so I wouldn't have to hear it ever again.

You wanted to be buried in Isabela so that we wouldn't cut ties with your side of the family. We won't, Mommy. Even if you were buried elsewhere, we will still keep in touch with them. We love them as much as we love you.

I feel blessed that you were able to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. I feel sorry, though, that when the day comes for Kuya, Ate, and Ali, you won't be there to walk with them too.

I miss you sooooooooo much, Mommy.

I miss seeing your lovely smile when I come home from work or wherever I am. I miss you reminding me as early as Thursday to bring Koko over for the weekend. I miss hearing you say, "Labyu labyu" and "Mishu Mishu" whenever I say I love you and I miss you. I miss your hugs and kisses whenever I leave home. I miss you reminiscing about your childhood. I miss reminding you to take your medicines. I miss sending you MMS of Koko's latest picture.

I will miss sharing bus or jeepney rides with you. I will miss going to Baclaran with you. I will miss hunting for bargains and going to ukay-ukay with you. I will miss you saying, "This is my daughter," with such pride on your face. I will miss hanging out in your office with all the bawal food.

I will miss giving you love letters on Mother's Day. I will miss giving you flowers on your birthday and Valentine's Day. I will miss spending the holidays with you.

I will be feeling the same way every day until the day we meet again.

I love you, Mommy.

Note from 2026: I wrote this in 2011, ten days after my mother died. I thought about rewriting it before putting it here, but some things belong to the person you were when you wrote them. So I left most of it as I wrote it then.