my mom

My mom and I don’t bond that much. We are so different from each other, we are like magnets—we are poles apart. What I like, she detests: black, Plants versus Zombies, make-ups, and change. What she likes, I am poor at: sewing, numbers, crossword puzzles, and tradition. You can imagine our condition at home. I treat her just like a buddy. She tries to treat me like a normal, “obedient” daughter which I doubt I am. The result? A big bang.

In my theory, my behavior toward her is affected by two things. First, I was brought up by my grandmother. Most of the time, I still compare my mom to my deceased lola. Sometimes I even ask myself that had she been alive, would I act the way I do right now… Second thing that affects me is the fact that I am the only daughter in the family. I am closer to my father—used to be that is until the time he decided not to talk with me. My brothers, though they were younger, treat me like a younger sister. They are so over protective that I think they spoil me a lot with my whims. So, whenever I don’t get what I want, I complain and nag at my mother more than she nags at me ( and when she does nag at me, I tell it to her face that nagging at me does not solve any of our problems but just irritates me more).

But it is not always like that. We do have our share of good times. Tons already. One of them was last 21 of June. We bought some facial masks and we pampered ourselves with our home-made face spa. We played word games in my netbook. We bored ourselves with stories that neither of us could relate to.

You see, we were happy. We are happy, actually.

But since she is in Tacloban now with my grandmother, I feel as if the whole house changed. No one wakes me up now when I still don’t want to—which is pro and against me: I get more sleep, I get to my work place late. No one cooks for me and my brothers now. No one tells me to stop overworking—not that I really do, I just usually go home late…early because of the nature of my job.

Lastly, no one waits for me, awake at the wee hours of the morning, welcoming me with “Bakit hindi ka nagte-text kung asan ka na?”


I am torn between asking her to come back and letting her stay there. O f course, my grandmother needs special care. Since the whole family can’t go to Tacloban due to our own businesses, at least my mom serves as a good representative for the rest of us.  I cannot be so selfish because I have been living with my mom for several years already. The last time my grandmother saw her was four years ago.

But then, a daughter, no matter how much she doesn’t show she cares, still misses her mother from time to time.

The only comfort I give myself is the thoughts that if I am feeling this way, how much more does my mom miss lola and…

…And how will I be able to work abroad when I can’t even stand not seeing her for less than a month.

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