17 May 2013

..that different kind of love..

"When you have your own kids someday, make them feel that you love them equally. No favorites played." I was preparing the due medicines for her mother when he approached me and said these words. I can sense some pain coming  from someone who must be a victim of favoritism. I don't know their family background and so the best thing  I did was just to listen. "She loved him dearly eversince he was a boy and now that she's sick and dying and is empty-pocket, he never gave glance at her". I took a while to stare at her on the bed, her right hand tapping her side as if she is putting a baby to sleep. At 84, it's been her habit to do like that since the day she came to our unit.  She has loving eyes that seemed to be waiting for a familiar face that didn't show up for years. I don't know if my mom feels that way too when her first born hasn't been home for years...

It's still dawn, and I can't force my eyes back to a good snuggle with my pillows. I woke up from a bad dream, a terrible one, and I don't want to remember a bit of details from it. The dim light from our room cannot pacify the fear that comes from the thought of that dream. I'm 27, and I confess that  I haven't outgrown yet being a crying baby when nightmares creep in. It takes a tearful prayer before I became sober. And when the fear subdued, I hold on for the remaining days when a woman would held my legs on her lap and examined the details, veins included,  and would conclude that I have small feet for my age. She doesn't often say she loves me, but her touch is more than all the words combined for a louder "Iloveyou". I know she has a strong faith in me that I can be more responsible with myself the day she freed me from her comfort zone, that I can handle my nightmares now that nobody will be there to wake up and say, "it's only a dream". When I asked her one time what she wanted me to give her, aside from grandchildren,  all that she had said was "just come home". For years, I've been looking for a guide to nourish my faith but it's only when I was away from home did I realized that I was given one the day I was born. A resemblance of selfless love when she opted not to get married again after being widowed at 32, of self-denial when she dropped off everything for herself to cater our needs, to live in grace trusting that God has ears for those who cling to Him. She's always been generous, to the point that she now lives alone in our house because she gave us the chance to live our dreams, learn from our mistakes and understand that we live only once and that we are not getting any younger. She's at peace even when storms are battering her strength. It's always a mystery to me how she'd done all those things. I guess, I'll be able to understand it all when I would be in her place. One day.

I may have been in a romantic relationships, but I will always search in my heart that different kind of love. And I'll get a taste of it in the days to come. 

I'll be home.


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