I am my mother’s daughter

I went inside my son’s room this morning to check if it’s dusty na kasi it’s been locked for several months now. Baka puro agiw na.

I found two small cans of Libby’s Vienna sausage on one of the cabinet shelves. I brought them to the kitchen baka mag-expire na. I was actually the one who placed the cans of Libby’s in his room, in Oyen’s room, and in our room. For what? Emergency food. In case we get stranded in our respective rooms during a strong typhoon and there’s no electricity or gas, parang Ondoy. At least we will not starve.

Bigla akong nalungkot. This room is missing its occupant.

Na miss ko bigla ang anak ko. I felt very very sad. Sobrang agos ang luha. Mugto bigla. I must have cried for a good half hour. Ewan ba, lungkot na lungkot ako talaga.
Even if he’s old na I still worry about him. I worry about his health, his safety. Baka he’s not paying attention when he’s getting on the bus, the train, while walking. He might drop his wallet, etc. Baka merong salbahe na naman na makakilala nya. He lives one block away from a ghetto-like area. He will be street smart after several years just like Oyen. Walking in the streets of Manhattan past bums, taking the subway, trains, buses, made her a toughie.

I am my mother’s daughter. She always worried about me, even when I was already old, have a family of my own. She always felt sad because I lived far away from them. They lived in the US and I was here in Manila. I felt the same way when Oyen was living in NY. I cried every day. Now, I am like that again because my son is far far away. Ganyan lahat ang nanay, gusto kumpleto, sama-sama ang pamilya. Hindi mapalagay kung merong anak na malayo sa kanya.