Letters for Mom #2
I was just a little girl coming home from our Girl Scout camping trip. Before we left, I told my parents to pick me up at 3:00 PM. As the afternoon went on, I waited patiently, convinced they would arrive any minute.
Three o'clock passed. Then four. Then five.
One by one, my classmates were picked up by their families. The teachers packed up and left. Soon, the campsite was quiet. It was just me, sitting alone with my bags, blankets, and camping gear, wondering why no one had come.
When my parents finally arrived at 6:00 PM, they explained that they had gone to Abra to check on my sister's gown for an upcoming beauty pageant. I nodded and went home with them, but the feeling stayed with me. At that age, I couldn't fully explain the hurt.
As the years passed, I buried the memory deep enough that I almost forgot it existed.
As my mom handed me a gift I refuse to receive, she told me she still remembered that day. She’s still trying to give the things she can’t provide back then. She said she was sorry—not only for being late, but for all the times she felt she couldn't give us everything we needed growing up.
I was surprised that she remembered. The memory had faded for me over the years, but for her, it had never really left. While I had carried the hurt of that afternoon, she had carried the guilt.
The little girl in me still remembers waiting alone. But the woman I am now understands that love is not always shown perfectly. Sometimes it comes wrapped in mistakes, sacrifices, and apologies that arrive years later.
P.S. I learned recently that Pagdating ng Panahon is a song for middle child,,so I might just add this for the feels.
