A Weepy Mom

When she was in college,  we always took Northwest Airlines because it flew directly to JFK via Tokyo.   Northwest’s departure from Manila was early morning.

Oyen comes home for Christmas and during the spring break, while Edmund and I alternate in visiting her.  For the ingress/egress and on her birthday.

Every single time we bring her to NAIA,  I cry a bucket.  The minute she enters the airport’s door,   I try not to blink.  I follow her with my eyes.  When she moves closer to the check-in counter,  I move too.  I look for a spot where I could still see her from the glass wall.  Even when my husband is already calling me “tart let’s go!”  I don’t budge.  I stand there outside till I could no longer see her.

It breaks my heart every single time.   I  cry in the car and would be full of regret.  Bakit ba kasi naman.  Why did I send her to a school so far away from home?  I know the answers but I still ask myself.  I didn’t imagine kasi that it would be this hard to let go.  Para akong inahin na manok, gusto nakalimlim sa sisiw.

All throughout her 5 years stay,  I cried at the train station every time I would leave her.  On her fourth year,  while I was hugging her and crying,  she told me “Mom, we do this every time.”   Naikwento ko na yata one time at the Grand Station,  a police officer approached me because I was weeping in the middle of that grand lobby.   I was leaving for Manila that evening and we had lunch together in the city.  She took the train back to the Bronx.    It was really tough for a mom to see her kid go.

And I not only cried at the airport in Manila, or in NY.  I cried every single day.  Umaga, tanghali, gabi.

When the two of us attended my nephew’s wedding in Southhampton a couple of years ago,  Oyen took the Northwest flight from JFK to Manila while I took a Northwest flight from JFK to California to visit my sister.  While I watched her go the opposite way to her gate,  a deep feeling of sadness enveloped me.  I couldn’t help but cry.

Ten years later,  it still breaks my heart every time we part ways at the airport.   Nevermind if it would only be for two weeks.

Living away from home for five years, learning how to fend for herself and how to survive in the most diverse city on earth, made her a tough girl.  She passed it with flying colors.  Not only was she able to graduate with honors, but she also became independent, mature, street smart.   And how about the mother?   The separation didn’t make me tougher, not a bit.

Last night when I dropped her off at the NAIA 3 for her Emirates flight to Copenhagen,   I realized I have not learned how to let go.    I stood outside and waited until she had passed through the security check.  I didn’t leave till after she was already out of my sight.

She would be back in two weeks. I don’t know , it still breaks my heart to see her go.

I am the same person. It looks like I will never change no matter how old Nyke and Oyen are.  I will forever be a weepy mom.