Living for the one who gave life to me.

I would always start fights when my cousins teased me for being spoiled. Looking back, I guess I was just too naive to see that they were right : all the toys I would cry for at the mall at age 6, numerous trips outside the country, new clothes & pretty dresses every week, a brand new ‘97 Honda Civic in grade school named after me - but, those luxuries have long been gone... It is only now that I am much older that I appreciate the things typically taken for granted by those who continue to enjoy the comfort of their parents’ wealth. Although these monetary pleasures and exclusive privileges no longer exist for the both of us, I appreciate her for doing her best to give me everything I needed despite going at it alone.

After my Dad passed away, I was left in the care of my grandparents. My mom had always been the antithesis of mothers who stayed at home, baked pastries for her children, and maintained the household; but I could never say that I envied the kids who had stay-at-home moms because the very few homemakers I knew were dull, boring.

We definitely have had some of the most heated arguments, the flames of which are usually produced by my incendiary remarks and penchant for barbarism when insisting upon myself. I am constantly tempted to unload an insensitive list of grievances against her, the most popular would be to blame her decision to change careers and transpose our lives to a foreign land that seemed to not take kindly to the once spoiled one.

While I sometimes envy her for achieving an almost sacred patience and cessation from material pleasures, she has acknowledged that the calm and serenity that she embodies now is a culmination of her wealth of experience. It seems as though nothing fazes her anymore. The respect she awards me, it feels like something I have also earned because we both have evolved together & shared the life of once having much and watching it all slowly crumble into dust.

I sound as if I am reciting her eulogy as if she is somehow dead and buried. No. But perhaps a part of her is. Because if there is a lesson that we both have learned since coming to America, it is that there is an infinite amount of chances for people to recreate themselves. It is as though we cycle through the stages of life, death, and rebirth within our own lives.

Thanks, Mommy.
Mahal Kita.

payday advance loan