20.6.06

Lolita That's My Mother

She is now 74 years old. Hypertensive and glaucomic. Well that's the term I use to lighten me up. My mother has glaucoma. It is a progressive and irreversible eye ailment. It seems I could not do anything for her. She is fast losing her sight.

Back then, my mother often irritated me. When I was younger, she would nag and nag and nag. Oh, but these were the useful nags, I must admit. When you are young, parents can really piss you off, right? But that's all changed now.

The realization came when I had my own children. Parents will be parents and children will need to be children. They have to go through life like we all did. They have to experience everything - good or bad, first hand. Life was designed that way.

And when I see my mother now thinking how I could make the remaining years of her life better. I remember the first time my children and I visited her in her new place. She was oh so happy. Typically, she had prepared well. She kept apologizing saying the place is too small. All over her house were photographs of me and my kids.

When I got back from the hospital after my kidney biopsy in 2003, she volunteered to take care of me. She did the housework despite the failing eyesight. Always caring, I wish I can do more for her comfort.

She sure had her flaws and so did I. We all do, no one is exempt. I was the 'intelligent' one in the family. Everyone of my relatives thought I would help make things slightly better. But this was not to be so. My problems kept pouring and was there to support me, always. Forget, the nagging sermons in the end, help became synonymous with the word MAMA.

When I first had my own daughter, I promised my self not to be anything like her grandmother. Generation gap is how I rationalized the bickerings between me and my mom.

Today, as my own daughter makes her final preparations for her impending trip abroad to work, I thank my mother with all my heart. Her love, with the repeated admonitions prepared me well to become a mother myself. I would not have the wisdom of understanding my own child now if there was no Mama.

And I wish I could tell her this from time to time while she can till appreciate it.