Benjamin loved my mother and there were times when I would come home and he’s there visiting her, bringing her snacks, or native delicacies. My mother liked him very much as well and she enjoyed his visits, but she thought that it was Benjamin’s way of getting her “approval”. When one day he brought up the subject of us getting married in their church, my mother cried while she told him that it was her fervent desire that her daughter would get married in the Catholic church, and then it would be up to me if I would convert to his religion. His religion forbade him from doing that or he would be ex-communicated. Our situation had become hopeless. When Benjamin decided to take on a work far from Manila, I knew it was the end for us although he wrote on a regular basis and still visited whenever he was in town.
I had found a job in the meantime in a government office and that made letting go a bit easy. It broke my mother’s heart that her wishes had been the cause of my emotional pain but we never discussed it. Sometimes I would catch her looking at me and on the verge of crying. I would tell her I was okay and I’ve moved on. It was I who would tell her to “let go”.
One day, I came home from work and I found her in her usual chair in the living room. A big present was sitting on her lap, her limp right hand clutching it. “A present for me? Oh, you shouldn’t have, Mother!” I jokingly told her. She smiled and said, “Ben was here earlier, and he left this for you, he remembered your birthday.” I took the box and intended to open it once I got to my room, but midway up the stairs, I saw her started to come up so I sat down on the step and opened the box. It was a dress, in baby pink and dark green. And there was a small purse to go with the dress. I told her “it’s not even my favourite colour, that pink,” and I left the box on the steps and went to my room. The next day when I came home from work, the box was neatly placed underneath my bed. I opened the box and looked at the dress again and then I cried.
A couple of years passed and Benjamin and I haven’t seen each other. A few weeks before she died, my mother, out of the blue, asked “Will you marry Ben after I die?” to which I replied “perhaps not. But I will tell you right now, Mother, I will not be the child who would break your heart. I promise.”
The day my mother lay dying on her bed, I went to my bedroom and prayed to God to "let her live longer because she’s the only person I knew who loved me unconditionally; that I would be a good girl like she wanted, marry and have children, and I will never ask Him for anything ever!” So when she breathed her last breath, I went back up to my room and punched the wall. The board broke on the second punch as my fist went through, leaving little gushes on the back of my hand and fingers. I was going to punch it a third time, but it hurt too much I decided I better not. But it was the one time I was angry with God and it was the start of my questioning my beliefs and religion. I was not even 21 yet.
-o0o-
that's my mother, and that's me at 8 and nil at 2. the photo was taken and processed by my father.
A beautiful picture.
Having a parent pass away at a young age is difficult, and I can relate to the anger you had. When my mom died, I ripped the phone out of the wall and whipped it across the room.
You are fortunate to have a picture (or maybe more?) to reflect on memories from years gone by.
How sad that religion got in the way of your happiness with Ben. and even more sad that you lost your Mother at such a young age. I was 40 when my Mum died and that was bad enough. This family photo is lovely, I think you look like your Mother : )
Ouch! I feel the pain in your fist. So sad to lose your mother at such a young age. I was in my late 40's when mine died of breast cancer. I lost my 'faith' long before that, but only fairly recently any belief in god.
I think faith and religion are often confused, so it's sad when I see someone lose faith because of religion. But I can understand how you feel. My mother died when I was 32. I suppose if I'd had a better mother in law some of the sorrow would have lessened but in human terms I will never understand why it worked out that way. I am thankful that I have so many good memories though (and that my mother in law lives no where near me!!) You look a lot like your mom!
September 20th, 2014
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Having a parent pass away at a young age is difficult, and I can relate to the anger you had. When my mom died, I ripped the phone out of the wall and whipped it across the room.
You are fortunate to have a picture (or maybe more?) to reflect on memories from years gone by.
( hmm guess who can't sleep)