MOM
I was surprised at how pleasant our lunch was on Thursday, July 7. I had the pleasure of having lunch with two beautiful ladies and my equally beautiful wife didn’t mind at all, particularly because they happened to be my mom, Zorayda, and my mother-in-law, Angie.
As expected, part of the meal was spent with my mom telling my mom-in-law embarrassing stories about my childhood: like the time I went to our home-province of Lanao del Sur and how I refused to eat chicken after watching my relatives slaughter a live hen (hey, I’m a city boy!), or how I would “converse” with the TV, talking with the Sesame Street characters (I had an active imagination and I swore Cookie Monster talked to me!). Honestly, I didn’t mind my mom sharing my childhood idiosyncrasies, i.e. weirdness, and, in fact, it made me realize that my mother had given me the best gift that a son can receive: a happy childhood.
In Islam, there is an aphorism that heaven lies at the feet of your mother. The Prophet Muhammad was orphaned at an early age, which explains partly the deep respect Islam gives to motherhood. Motherhood is something that, as a man, will always be a mystery. While my own fatherhood parallels some of the experience of being a mother, the bond between mother and child is far more deep and complex. While I can cultivate deep and meaningful relationships with my children, still the mother has the physical edge — from conception to birth, they share one body. How can I even attempt to comprehend the depth of connection that that kind of physical relationship will engender?
Even Philippine law respects and acknowledges the profound and intense bond between a mother and child, which is far beyond the father-child relationship. An oft-cited American decision eloquently makes the case for the maternal preference over the father, “(it) springs from the truth, well known by all men, that no other love is quite so tender, no other solicitude quite so deep, and no other devotion quite so enduring as that of a mother for the child. Generally, the love, solicitude, and devotion of a mother cannot be replaced by another and is worth more to a child of tender years than all other things combined.”
So it isn’t a wonder to me that when any one of my siblings experiences a loss or a problem, my mother is equally hurt. Of course, I see the same in my mother-in-law. Both my “mothers’ are advanced in age, with grandchildren in abundance, and yet the worries of their offspring are never far from their minds. For example, when I lost my bid for the Senate, I didn’t cry over it — this isn’t some macho crap but the honest truth is that I shed no tears, particularly because I accepted that it was God’s will — but my mom cried buckets. Out of her love for her son, she couldn’t help but feel my deep disappointment, humiliation, and regret. I’m sure for my future missteps, she will feel the sting equally just because she is my mom.
By the same token, my achievements are hers as well; in fact, sometimes it would seem that it is even more hers than mine. Mothers will always claim that it was their genetic makeup that gave their children the talent to succeed. I see that with my wife as well: when our sons show their flashes of wit and brilliance, she shares in the glory. And when they show flashes of naughtiness, suddenly the kids take more after me.
Regarding my wife and motherhood, my wife is an exceptional mother, particularly because of the additional challenges that she faces being the mother of our autistic son, Santi. The amount of love, belief, and encouragement that she showers both our children, the happiness that she experiences from their little achievements, and her willingness to work hard to provide for our kids are the clearest manifestation of the depth of a mother’s love.
One of the great things about my mom — and I’m sure this applies universally — is her great faith in my abilities. In 2003, when I sent my application to the master’s program at Harvard Law School, well before I was accepted, she had been telling her friends and relatives that I was going to study in Harvard Law School. That was predicated on the strength of her belief in me — even when I was unsure if I’d be accepted. As a matter of fact, I heard that some of my crabby kin were laughing behind my mom’s back about how it was impossible for me to get into Harvard Law School, particularly because many Filipino Muslims had applied in the past and none of them were accepted.
Well, my mom had the last laugh on that point and she beamed with pride when she attended my graduation and watched me give the commencement speech on behalf of the International Program Class.
Likewise, I hope that my wife and I will also make our children feel and believe that they are capable of anything, particularly because we, as their parents, wholly believe in their talent, character, and ability. That kind of inner confidence, whether it be right or wrong, is something that my mother has given me as well. Achievement and success are always predicated first on self-belief. While luck and opportunities are similarly essential to success, without inner strength, a person can never achieve long-lasting success. My mother has that in spades - she has survived electoral success and failure, financial lows and highs, family and personal crises, and she remains vibrant, curious, and full of life even during her winter years. So she has given me another gift: the gift of inner strength. Like her, I know that no matter what life throws at me, I will survive. Thank you mom.
