Confession of a Mama's Boy

Forrest Gump: "My mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."

I am a Mama's Boy.  Yes, I am man enough to admit.  Like the Italians, we are a nation of Mama's Boys.  The thing is the Italians don't deny it as much.

Where I am from, it's the Grandma that dictates on the food at family gatherings.  it's the mom that points out the other side of issues to the father, her husband.  It's also the mother that violently clashes with the mother in law.  That part I guess is a girl thing.

Mother's Day approaches.  Flowers are bought. Lunches, dinners are spent with the entire family to pay tribute to their mothers, grandmothers or any woman that has a child.

I was born when my mom was thirty four.  She had another son, my brother after two years and to the best of my knowledge could no longer conceive.

Six Years after me, a baby was brought to the house.  At that age, I knew she was adopted.  I woke up and my younger brother was already playing with the baby.  I knew she was adopted. because she came from nowhere but that did not matter.  I guess I was too young to care and I saw how wonderful that baby was and how much joy she brought to our family and household.

My mom knew about me knowing about my sister.  Whenever we would talk about it as the years passed, she told me that her mom always told them as they grew up that when they have their families and someone close to them offers a kid for adoption that they should take the child.  It was a sign of good luck, like a gift from God.  My mom kept that to mind.

My mom came from humble beginnings.  Her family was generally not educated.  My relatives are really not "of privilege" or boast of any accomplishment.  Piss poor.  Yup.  Painful as it sounds but yeah.  Her background, her relatives were not at all sophisticated save for the few that were educated.  I guess it comes with the territory of being impoverished - thrown out of school,  in jail, drugs, in the gutter, the works.

There was a great divide between my mother and father's upbringing.  My dad, a soldier's son. a soldier himself, brash, harsh,  belonging to the highly accomplished, academically gifted middle class versus my mom's humble background.   You can just imagine the fireworks.

My mother was not perfect. In fact i remember saying that in my eulogy for her.  She had her misgivings.  She was human.  Her marriage to my father crumbled sometime in the late '70's.  They just held on for the sake of it.   

That was harder if you ask me.

Despite my mother's imperfection this was what I can say her highlights:

1. She had a ton of friends.  Influential or not, we always had the likes of a General, high ranking government official, socialites or some old friend from work or business in the house visiting her.  Now our house was not exactly material for the Interior Designer's monthly.  It was decent but hardly presentable to guests.  Yet, through the years, they came in droves.

2. My mom never finished college.  She never told me this until I did my unusually long stint in college.  She sure did not act like someone that dropped out.  She had her own class, she could communicate well and she had a very good personal network.

3. My mother also had panache.  She had flair.  She was the life of the party.

4. To this day I never starved.  My mom always made sure there was a feast or buffet of some kind happening in the house.  That was the usual fare.  What we lacked in material things, clothes, furniture, cars my mom compensated with good food.  Even my friends could come i and raid our ref anytime.  My mom would even get mad if they did not "eat healthy".

5.  My mom was also very affectionate.  Literally she would shower us with hugs ad kisses.  Well into adulthood she would still embrace me like she did when I was a baby.

6.  Despite being loud and cranky at times, my mom was also very generous.   

She had a soft spot in her heart for poor people, the hungry.  Later in her life she became involved in charity work for the indigenous Aetas.

I am flattered to hear my close friends note some of the traits I mentioned above about my mother.  I then suppose I got that part from her.

Going back to my sister that she took in, the baby was from my late Godmother Pilar.  Her maid was pregnant and wanted to abort the child.  When my mom was offered the baby, I don't think she knew it was a girl.  That's how committed my mother was.  Boy or girl she would take the baby.  Years passed and I confirmed this with my Godmother.  It was all true.

Sixteen years later, my sister ran off pregnant with the driver assigned to my father.  This broke all our hearts because we loved her so much to a fault.  We spoiled her.  She was our baby, forever.

Tears.  So much tears my mother shed.  For my sister, our faults, the abuse she got from in laws, her hurts, frustrations, her gambling compulsion, her marriage, her life.   I would hate to see her crying. 

Despite her fears and her worries she remained strong for all of us.  No matter what happened she would manage with us.   Mom knew best.  Like Forrest Gump once said "My Mama always told me that miracles happen every day. Some people don't think so, but they do."

A couple of years later, my sister came back with a child that our family welcomed.  It worked out again.  My mom knew it even if I was still mad at my sister.  Whatever my sister brought to my family, her daughter brought to us a thousand fold.  An angel was given to us.  My mom knew this all along.  This angel made her last years wonderful.

My mom died fifteen years ago.  As I write this, tears have fallen.  Tears still fall when I visit her grave.  I want my Mommy. I know she still loves me.  I know she is watching me.  She never doubted me.  She told me I was her hope.

I miss her reassuring hugs her kisses.  I miss her love, the food, the life she had in her.   A part of me died with her fifteen years ago, I was never the same since.

I also had a second mom.  Another that was so kind, generous and caring.  Sadly, she is gone as well.

At this age, I still want my Mommy.

Happy Mother's Day Mommy.  Life is like a box of chocolates.  Leave a light on in heaven for me. 

I miss you so much.

  

Forrest Gump: What's the matter, Mama?

Mrs. Gump: I'm dying, Forrest. Come on in, sit down over here.

Forrest Gump: Why are you dying, Mama?

Mrs. Gump: It's my time. It's just my time. Oh, now, don't you be afraid, sweetheart. Death is just a part of life. Something we're all destined to do. I didn't know it, but I was destined to be your mama. I did the best I could.

Forrest Gump: You did good.

Mrs. Gump: Well, I happen to believe you make your own destiny. You have to do the best with what God gave you.

Forrest Gump: What's my destiny, Mama?

Mrs. Gump: You're gonna have to figure that out for yourself. Life is a box of chocolates, Forrest. You never know what you're gonna to get.

Forrest Gump: [voice over] Mama always had a way of explaining things so I could understand them.

Mrs. Gump: I will miss you, Forrest.

Forrest Gump: [voice over] She had got the cancer and died on a Tuesday. I bought her a new hat with little flowers on it.