The Prodigal Child

To all whose moms are still alive, we are reminded anew to spend the rest of our days showing our love to them before it's too late. Reposting an old blog from my blogsite pamski.71.bravejournal.com

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March 12, 2006
Yesterday, I was bothered by the news that my mom and my eldest sister are once again fighting. Living under the same roof, they have this tampuhan thingy once in a while, a normal mother-daughter phenomenon I guess.  Most daughters living with their moms could relate to this.

When my mom gets mad at other people, my Ate takes the heat most of the times. On the other hand, when Ate, who has a fighter’s blood running in her veins, finds herself in a squabble with a neighbor or whoever, it’s Mama’s turn to call a ceasefire. “Patricia!” she would always admonish her. “Para kang walang breeding!”

Their personalities clash but they could be sweet at times, too. That we just shrug our shoulders and say, “Ganyan lang yang dalawang yan. Sila kasi ang magkasama sa bahay.”

Ate Pinky, or Pia, as my children would refer to her, quit her job years ago to stay at home and be with my mom and lola. A medical technology degree holder, she was asked by my father and my brother to look after the two. My niece, Meghann, found this set-up convenient and in her favor. Along with Azalea, they are the only ones left in the house we all grew up in.

As a result, Ate doesn’t earn her own income and she is often asked to do errands, cook for the family, and take care of things especially when Mama is sick. Sometimes she doesn’t take this well, as she feels she’s being taken for granted. Sometimes she feels helpless when “payables” such as Meg’s school expenses crop up. Sometimes she feels sorry for herself because she thinks she has become so dependent on others, especially when it comes to money matters. She also feels that my folks often meddle in the way she brings up Meg, and in her own life as well. “Di na ko makahinga sa bahay na yan,” she tells us. “Parang wala na kong sariling buhay. I feel like I’m being treated as a sixteen-year old.”

Mama, on the other hand, wonders if it’s true that she treats Ate that way. “Anak ko sya, eh,” she tells me.

When they fight, the house turns into a war zone (as Azalea would call it). I remember my father telling her during one of our family gatherings, “Everything I have is yours,” just like in the story of the Prodigal Son. Remember the part wherein the eldest son got mad when the father threw a celebration at the youngest son’s homecoming?

“All these years I’ve worked hard for you and never once refused to do a single thing you told me to; and in all that time you never gave me even one young goat for a feast with my friends.”

“Look, the father said, “you and I are very close, and everything I have is yours."

It all seemed a joke when Papa said that. But looking back, I see how true it was (is). “Everything” may not be in terms of money and finances and tangible possessions. It may also be his and Mama’s time and attention. I don’t have it now. Kuya doesn’t have it now. Their presence, their pag-aasikaso, their moral support. And yes, even the occasional reprimand. Ate has indeed everything. And there will come a time that she, and all of us, will miss all that.

Everybody says “Ang hirap magpalaki ng magulang.” We can choose our spouses, but not our parents. But I guess we will never realize how hard it is to be a parent until we become one. And  a parent is a parent is a parent…for life.