the stork couldn’t have dropped me off a better place

i do not know where i would be in this entire pregnancy (and the breakup) if it were not for my mother.

i have written about father a lot of times in the past; i am obviously a father’s girl more than anything else (even though i couldn’t stand his logic on things anymore- which he is pretty aware of, btw). i mention him more than once because he was really not a typical dad (how many fathers out there sends valentine’s cards to their daughters on Vday consistently every year since they were born? i know no one besides my dad).

i have not talked about mother at all. thinking about it now, perhaps it was because she was always a constant figure in my life. humanity has a nasty habit of taking for granted what is always there. i am not an exception. perhaps, i felt like all mothers are like that- there are probably fewer mothers out there who would not do everything for their children as there are fewer fathers who really step beyond their duties of being the sole provide and become an icon of inspiration to their children’s lives.

i do think it is not fair. i am not saying this because i am going to be a full-fledged mother soon. i am saying this because i feel that life is too short that people ought to realize there are things you just should not take for granted because it has always been there all the time. life is too short to only fight for the things you really want and need when you are threatened of their extinctions from your life.

what has my mother done for me? i can never quantify it- she has done so much and expected back so little. true, she was the one spanking us and scolding us when we did something bad when we were little (while my father stands on the sideway waiting for her to be done with us so he can wipe our tears and take us out for ice cream). true, she was particularly a very difficult mother when i was being a very difficult teenager. but, she was always been there. it was mother i call when my i and my siblings get sick in the metro. it was mother i call when i need to figure out how to cook Pochero. it was mother i call when i need to bitch around Jesse or Rovic going out and not telling me about it. it was mother who flew all the way from negros to accompany me on my prenatal checkups. it was mother who watched my steps and prepare my meals and looked after me as if i was a baby all over again during my last few months with this pregnancy. it was mother i ran for comfort when the realization of finally losing Zee sunk in on Christmas day.

father is an inspiration; mother is my pedestal. and five weeks from finally holding Grape in my arms, i wonder if i can ever be as good a mother to her as my mother was to me. i am not known for giving unconditional love so easily (i do not think i have ever had unconditionally loved anyone before) but my mother does it like there was no other way to love someone at all. will i be a good a mother to grape as she was to me? i do not know, but i sure will freeze hell to make sure i try.

the stork couldn’t have dropped me off a better place.

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