Mothers' Day

On Sunday afternoons, I try to sleep. Sometimes during those moments I am about to transition from sleep to consciousness, I sense my mother's presence. I am dreaming, of course. I know it. But I feel comforted to imagine that she is seated at the base of my bed, watching television like she used to. I actually leave the TV on while I sleep so I could feel less alone.

For the past couple of weeks, advertisers have capitalized on the approach of Mothers' Day. And every print, radio, or tv ad of mother and child remind me of how much I miss my own mother.

I used to get her something every year. I guess I totally bought all the advertising pitches. When I was in high school, I'd save up on allowance and buy her roses from one of the flower stands behind our campus. Those that sell for P50 or so. In college, I also get her cake. The year I did summer OJT, I sent her a collection of CDs of piano instrumentals. And when I eventually got employed, I usually got her kitchen gadgets which she really liked.

My mother was a very appreciative and affectionate person. She'd hug me whenever I brought her anything. Even if it's just MacChicken sandwich takeouts. But well, all mothers are that way, I guess. You just get home in time before the heavy rain pours and they're thrilled. You just offer to do the dishes after dinner and they're happy. Mothers are easy to please that way. In fact, you just have to be. And you're loved.

There's a part of me that could never shrug off the feeling that I could've given her more while she was still around. Came home earlier. Took her to a vacation. Done more, said more.

But now the cards and CDs are dusting in a corner of a cabinet and the appliances are placed back in their boxes for storage. And today seems less special for me. Like last Christmas or New Year. All other occasions or long weekends. I try to cope with sleeping and the drone of television in the background.

Enough of that. Just please do me a favor and hug your mothers for me. Thanks.