I was told that hours before my dear friend Amelia passed on to a higher form of existence, she scribbled on a piece of paper `I love you, Mom.´ She was blind, had suffered from myasthenia gravis for more than 2 decades and therefore could barely move... but there was that note. I love you, Mom.
I love you, Mom.
How often do we have the chance to say that to our mothers? And how often do we refrain ourselves from saying it because we are encumbered with pride and don't want to sound clingy and childish?
I always have a lump in my throat whenever I think of Amelia´s note.
Whereas here in the west, children are eager to cut ties with their parents and especially with their mothers, in the east we tend to cling on to our mothers for comfort, love, and wisdom. We feel elated to be told that we are like our mothers. We are proud when people compare us with our mothers.
When we are happy, we talk to our mothers. When we are deeply bothered by or consumed with something, we go to our mothers. When we are confused and couldn´t make a decision, we turn to our mothers. When we baked a nice pie, we share it with our mothers. When we are ill and suffering, we find comfort on the thought that our mothers are close by. Indeed, our mother is our first trusted, girlfriend.
Is it the Filipino folk Catholicism? You know, the Blessed Virgin Mary and Mother of God, is also our mother. And while others cringe with embarrassment and annoyance at the very thought that in the Philippines, we call the Blessed Virgin, Mamma Mary, we Filipino Catholics actually take comfort in knowing that we have another Mamma .....in heaven, that is.
As for Amelia, her last note said it all. I love you, Mom.
10 comments:
I have a lump in my throat as well, from reading that note.
It is not so much in the west, but rather, in nothern Europe that children leave their parents' home as soon as they finish school. Southern Europeans are a bit different, I tell you. Latin Americans too, I think. I lived with my parents until I was 24 and then came back to them at 32 and left them only when I got married. And what you describe as a typical relationship mother/child in the Philipines resembles very much what it is like still for me and most Argentineans, I think...
You could be right there. I guess, it depends on the family background and circumstance. So, you are from Spain... You know, my ancestors (my mother side) are Catalans. hehehehe
Sure it depends on the family and circumstances, you're right.
I am 50% Catalan too, two of my grandparents were originally from Tarragona and my father was born there too and taken to Argentina when we was just 3 years old. Then I have a Basque grandma from Irún and an Italian grandpa from Bologna, Italy. So, typical Argentinean stock! :o)
People very rarely take the time to say I love you to their parents because it can be awkward if you haven't said it before. I was advised to make sure I tell my parents on my wedding day. I did and they both actually gave me a hug. Since then it has become an easy "refrain" for us, which is something I am very thankful for.
@Aledys: My Argentinian hermana told me the same thing when we discussed our genealogies although she also mentioned something about an Arabic ancestor. :)
@Buday: That is soooo sweet. :D
:)
Hello, Jesusa. :D
My goodness! I am so sorry for your loss. This is a very touching tribute you've shared about your friend. And about mothers! Thank you for sharing this. I could really write a book of a comment to you about this, but simply I 100% agree.
It's been a while since I visited your blog and am sorry for that. I have been very busy and fell far behind on reading blogs, so today I decided to go through my Google Reader carefully, change some settings around/feed settings, and I saw your blog on the list.
I hope you're enjoying your summer!
@A Touch of Dutch: I haven´t been blogging that much lately, AND I haven´t been visiting blogs as well. But thanks for droppping by. I should really catch up on my reading. I just got back from our trip. Talk to you later! :D
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