Today’s Mother’s Day was different.  We didn’t have my sister around, so it just wasn’t the same.  My mom didn’t cry because my sister wasn’t here but then she was sniffling because of a cold, so I’m not really sure.  We just stayed at home all day since we attended a neighborhood party until midnight and the oldies were tired.  Then we just had food delivered for dinner.

And so, my mom.  If someone asked me about my mom, what would I say?  Would I tell about how we grew up believing all mommies can bake cakes and make bread and have fun cooking, all because she whipped up cakes and bread every weekend?  Would I tell them how my mom believed in eating in rather than spending in restos?

But that’s just cooking and making sure we were all well-fed.  Should I harp about her habit of packing everything up so that if she hid something, its sure not to be found?  Or maybe how she refused to go out without curling her her in rollers?  Or how she felt frustrated when I would leave the house with hair still wet and no powder?

Maybe I should tell you about our relationship as adults.  She has always kept quiet about my relationships, only speaking about it when I opened up.  I remembered the time when I was so frustrated with good friend R that I opened up to my mom and she said that I deserved better and that under no circumstances should I call him again.  She also didn’t say anything when she found out that I went out again with him.  They (mom and dad) watched from a distance, trusting that I was making the decisions according to what I thought was right and also trusting that they have raised me up properly and I would know what to do.

I remember telling my mom about the homeboy, about that time when he was supposed to be going to Manila.  She listened patiently with my story and when he didn’t show up, my mom kept quiet.  And we never talked about him since.

Then there was a time when a high school batchmate gave me flowers for my birthday and my mom knew that he was married.  All I told them was not to worry and that I wasn’t encouraging this guy and that I will take care of it.  (The guy was mistaking my friendship - we were batchmates, after all - and thought I was receptive to his advances).  I told the guy off, in no uncertain terms, and my mom knew I was handling it right.

I’ve been very vocal about wanting to leave home and live on my own.  She would just keep quiet, knowing that, of all her children, I was the most independent and strong-willed.  And finally that’s happening soon and the one thing I did when I saw the development was show my mom.  I had to have her opinion if the place was ok, if it was going to be a good decision.  And when she said yes, I knew I was ready to buy the place.

At a certain point, you would want your relationship with your mother to be more than mother-daughter, with the intangible, inexplainable bond that has been nurtured since before you were born and will continue till you’re both old and grey .  You would want her to accept you for the individual that you have become and to respect you for the adult that she has helped you to become.  And I’d like to think that my mom and I have that reached that level, where we can interact as adults.

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