It was the second Sunday of May 2008, Mother’s Day. This is a special occasion for my Mom and for the moms all over the world. I bought something for my mom: a red dress with matching red pouch, a red headband, a red ring, a watch with red wrist strap, and a red step-in. I wanted her to feel that she is so much loved. I wanted her to always look great and beautiful, despite her old age and despite the fact that she simply stays home after retiring from her teaching profession many years ago.
On my way to my mother’s house, I received a text message greeting me “A Happy Mother’s Day!” And then I received another, and another, and another. I received a lot of text messages containing the same greeting. I simply thanked them and texted them back telling them, “I’m not yet a mom.”
I was married for ten years and have no children to be proud of. I was supposed to have one on my second year of marriage but I had a miscarriage. It was a very traumatic experience that I wept for almost a year, until I learned to accept that the baby was gone.
We always celebrate this special occasion with a gathering—my only sister, my nephews and nieces, and my brothers and their wives. And it has become a tradition for us to give gifts not only to my mom, but also to the mothers in the family. As the mothers in the family received their gifts, one of my sisters-in-law commented in jest, “Sori na lang sa mga hindi naging ina at mga baog, di na kayo makakaranas ng Mother’s Day.” (Sorry for those childless and sterile, you’ll never experience Mothers Day.) Hurt and annoyed, I told her that she should be thankful that she became a mother. I also reminded her that she has two daughters and that not having children runs in our family. She suddenly became quiet, perhaps thinking of how karma works. Her first born, Chic, cautioned her to watch her words. Since we did not want to ruin the occasion, we went on with our merry making, as we tried to make Nanay feel special, happy, and loved.
On my way back to the apartment where I live, I could not help but think about what she had said. I once more felt the pain I had when I lost my baby and as I arrived in the apartment I almost burst into tears. A message alert tone from my cell phone suddenly called a halt to such an emotional moment. I reached out for my cp and read the text message with an animated greeting “Happy Mother’s Day!” I deleted it at once since I was feeling the pain more and more. Another text message came, this time from one of my students, and it read, “Hindi nga ikaw ang nag-anak sa akin … pero ikaw ang nanay ko. I Love you, mom!” (So what if you are not my biological mother ... you are a mom to me.) Deeply touched by the message, I felt my tears suddenly roll down my cheeks.
I may not have borne a child, but a lot of children whose lives I have touched call me “Mom.” And that makes me feel … I really am a Mom.
Happy Mother’s Day to me!
