Smothered by my Mother

My mother… Oh she’s a handful! Anybody who knows me too well would definitely know about me and my “Mother Issues”. I had mixed emotions about her when I was growing up. Early in my life, I already knew I was the apple of my mama’s eye. I remember always getting the prettiest gifts when I was an Honor Student. When I was sick, I would surely get a Barbie Doll to make me feel better. I was always the “bida”. I was definitely my mother’s darling.

But things changed when I witnessed my parents’ split in March 1988. At that time, I was about 10 years old. What did I know about my parents’ marriage being on the rocks? I didn’t see them fighting. I thought we were a perfect happy family. And I even remember saying that those broken family stories in movies will never happen to us. I was wrong of course. LIFE happened to me when I was 10.

It was like a scene from a movie… My dad practically threw my mom out of the house while burning her clothes in the yard. She was crying. I was kicking and screaming while my father held me. Our helper was in the bedroom holding my two baby sisters. I cried out “Mama! Saan ka pupunta? Sama ako!” But she just walked away. That was the only time I saw my father in rage.

At that time, I only heard one side of the story. My parents split up because my mom had an affair with another man. I remember not attending school for a few days after that fateful night. I was stunned. I could not believe that this was happening. I felt ashamed, rejected and cheated on. In my head, I was thinking “None of the other kids in school have broken families… Didn’t she love my father?... Why did mama leave me?... Didn’t she love me?...”

Nobody among my relatives talked to me about what really happened. And papa was probably not in the right emotional state also. Our yaya was my source of information. So there… At 10, the only explanation I had for what has become in my life is this – Our mother left us for another man. How do you think I felt after that?

I grew up angry and resenting my mother. I had so much hate and aggression in my heart growing up. But at the same time – I MISSED HER SO MUCH. I envied my friends who had their mothers by their side. Growing up, I remember crying myself to sleep. After my mom left us, seeing her was rare. Months would pass and sometimes years before we heard from her again. And then we would just learn about her whereabouts when we would receive something from her that flew in from Manila… and then later on from the States…

Growing up without her was financially tough for us. My father single-handedly raised us and sent us to private schools. It was hard for him… hard for us. All those years, of course my sympathy went to my father. But deep inside my heart, I was longing for my mother. Growing up female just wasn’t complete without her. Although my father was the best, deep down I still needed my mom and I hated her for not being with us.

My childhood friends and my High School friends would know everything about the emotions I dealt with regarding her… the venomous letters I sent… the phone screaming… everything, but despite all that, I still wanted to understand my mom… hear her story… and be with her.

It’s amazing how one’s experiences in love and relationships in young adulthood can transform you. While I hated my mom growing up, I was beginning to see some light in our relationship when I finally became an adult. As I went through my own follies in love and catastrophes with men, I slowly wondered why Mama really cheated on my father. I started to think about my mother’s feelings, emotions, thoughts … What did she need that my father could not provide? What were her heart’s desires that remained unfulfilled with my father? I was suddenly asking questions that were oblivious to a 10 year old but significant to a 20-something young woman in search of Love.

It was only when I was in my quest for Love that I began to understand my mother’s spirit. I have forgiven my mom already. And in fact my father has forgiven her already years ago.

As I am growing older now, it’s quite alarming but generally funny to realize that my mom and I are so alike in a lot of ways. And in fact, people are saying, I actually look like her. When I was a child, I knew I looked like my dad but when I was growing up, it was quite evident that my face features were becoming more like mama’s. But of course, we both know by now that we cannot deny the fact that we certainly have the same temperament thus we clash – most of the time.

I’m turning 30 and I haven’t had a “mother” for 20 years now. I don’t have the kind of mother that most normal people have. Mama and I know that we can never be a “normal” mother-daughter team. She calls me a spoiled brat and I lovingly call her difficult. She only calls to complain, but I do find it weird and lacking when she doesn’t have a tantrum.

It’s ironic that although my mom paid for most of our wedding expenses, she’s always the first one to forget that I AM ALREADY MARRIED. I guess my mother will never understand what marriage is really all about. She failed miserably to uphold her own. My mom and I had a big fight soon after Joseph and I got home from our honeymoon. I just could not take the fact that she was still trying to control me despite my new status in life. She railed against the fact that I have already put my husband on top of my priorities. And she even resented our decision to move out of the condominium that she gave me when I was still single. She knows that our reason for renting it out is to have a much bigger space for me, Joseph and of course my nephew Kean. Of course, she thinks that it’s another one of my ways to spite her, which is definitely not true! But who wants to argue? So for more than 3 months now, my mother and I haven’t talked. This is by far the longest we have gone without communicating.

My mom has been driving me nuts ever since I can remember. But despite that I miss her… and of course I still love her. I miss her makulit messages on the answering machine. I used to get an average of 5 messages from her everyday. She immediately panics when I don’t text back. “San ka ba???” As if she's the only important person I should be corresponding to. On the other hand I’m also kind of wary to call her or text her because I’m afraid I might trip on a landmine of issues and I might lose another part of me again as we explode into another fight.

But I’m praying for that blessed day to come when we can finally talk again. Every time I encounter Matthew 5:24, I am convicted to be humble and seek reconciliation with my mother. I want to say sorry… I want to say I Love You Mama… Oh Lord, clean my heart of any pride, anger, or fear.