Earlier, my wife and I went over the topic of how my mother’s passing on exactly the eve of my birthday could’ve actually been more deliberate on her part rather than coincidental.
You see, my mom and I never really saw eye to eye on a lot of things. We’d disagree a lot of times.
A couple of weeks before she passed, there was a prodding from inside of me to talk to my mother about certain moments in our lives wherein our “less petty” disagreements have affected our relationship towards one another – to put some sense of definite closure on things. But her stubborn denial of her own sickness was a hurdle too difficult for me to overcome. She gets all worked up when I, together with my wife and kids surround her… she would normally say, “Ano ba kayo??? Wag niyo ako paligiran. Para naman akong mamamatay na sa itsura ninyo”. She would react defensively when sensing that things are getting too serious. Perhaps, it was her way of coping with her sickness… a means to shun the thought of coming to terms with what was inevitable.
I feared that if I spoke to her even in the slightest tone that would somewhat resemble reconciliation and forgiveness, she would freak out and push me away. She’s like that. And stressing her out with the kind of condition that she has was the last thing I’d want to do.
My mom and I are “ok”. I guess, there is that unspoken forgiveness that mothers always extend to their children no matter what circumstance. I’ve always sought comfort in that for as long as I can remember. But things are a bit different this time… I was looking for something more concrete – a sort of confirmation that things are really OK between me and my mother. It was something I was hoping to get before she leaves me.
But it was not to be.