mother's day gift!
I wrote this essay column for school. Though it was not my original intention, I was able to write the commitment I made with the Lord probably a (/few) month(/s) ago. And because I know how treacherous memory can be, I made this a future reminder for myself.
I just love this reality that although I feel as if I am walking in the wilderness, God has control over everything, and I chose to let Him reign in my life and in my family.
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My parents are OFWs and they have been working in Libya for the past 20 years. Since I was five, my sister and I had been left in the care of relatives. Thinking back of those days, I could say that my only problem was misunderstanding. As a child, I was very close to my parents and having to live with other families was incomprehensible for me. I remember crying at the sight of little children like me with their parents. No one seemed to make me understand what was happening back then. I was told, though, that I was not supposed to worry them with my petty concerns. At a young age, I was forced to deal with my own problems and be independent. My problems – difficult subjects, difficult teachers, difficult classmates, difficult cousins – I faced alone. When asked how I was doing, I always said that I was ‘OK’ even when I felt lonely and cried all the time.
I relied on my sister alone and burdened her with everything. She was enough for me. In other words, I grew apart from my parents.
I got used to being away from them so much that I forgot what it meant to a daughter. I disliked being kissed and hugged, and being called ‘bunso’. I barely talked to them and became aloof; after all, I was always ‘ok’. My mother’s heart broke over and over and she cried to her brothers. Although I knew this, I continued to back away as she tried to reach out. Every mother hears from her child that she is the best in the world. Mine never did.
Consequently, my mother never learned to trust us. I saw in television shows and even among my relatives how mothers understand and defend their children. Mine, however, seemed easily swayed by other people when issues concerning me and my sister arise. Though she always said she understood us, her actions showed that she believed the others instead of us.
I constantly asked who would defend me if not my mother; who would love me and listen to me if not her. The questions made me pity myself. During this crucial moment is when God spoke to me. Jesus would! He knows me inside out and loves me still. In Him I gained assurance that I will never get hurt and suffer on my own anymore – I never did!
Knowing God would never leave me, I cannot let my mother endure more difficulties because of me. Having experienced His comfort, I will no longer let her feel the way I did before. That is why this Mother’s Day, my gift for her is something only I can give her – her bunso.