Things I Should Have Asked

Dearest Nanay,

No matter how bad I act, I need not apologize for I know you would have already forgiven me.

Because such is your weakness and burden.

I made a lot of new friends, Nanay. And I'd been busy making them.  I let them into my life and every day the list grows. Some of them stay - some only for a moment. Yet I share their dreams, their hopes, their frustrations and failures. And every time they get their hearts broken, I stay with them, comfort them. I know what make them tick. And I know what make them laugh. I paid so much attention to their worries failing to realize that there is one friend I yet have to get to know much better.

I've always look at you as a parent - someone who tells me the right from the wrong - my moral compass. Beyond that shroud of parenthood, I didn't see you as someone else - only the person who nags a lot, who worries when I don't get home on time, who keeps asking me everything that I do, who most of the time I wish would stop minding my business and just focus on hers.

I looked at you most days, and all I see is the uptight person that you have become. But I don't know the stories behind the lines on your face, the scars on your skin that once might have been flawless. How did you get them? When?

Who are you, Nanay? What were you like when you were younger? What was it like during your time? What made you swoon? What made you blush? What were your dreams? What was your biggest frustration? And how did you overcome that frustration? Who was your first love? How was it like to have your heart broken? If ever it was broken. What was the name of that guy - that guy that you think got away - the one who was so perfect but who was never meant for you; the one you cried for every night when you were in your teens and the one who still lingers in your mind up to now.

When did you stop laughing, the laugh that would have made guys your age crazy because you were so beautiful? When did you stop becoming your own person, stop your childish ways, and stop your experimentation because you have to set an example for me?

I created so much distance between us because I wanted to become my own person.

So I've never asked, what are the things you really liked? How was it like to give up on your dreams? And if you did give up your dreams, is it worth it? Was I one of the reasons, that your dreams have to be let go? What was it like giving birth to me? And was I worth all the pain – not only of childbirth but of everything that comes along with bringing me up?

I’m sorry I was too caught up with growing up that I didn't ask about you. Sorry that I didn't realize that you too are growing old and that the times we'd be together will be more limited. I'm sorry if I always wanted you to leave me alone and I keep on asking you to mind your own business. My knowledge is so limited that I only realized that I was your business.

In a few months, I too will marry the love of my life. She will become my wife and she will become the mother of my children.  One day soon, we will become parents too. We will stop becoming children and for our children’s sake, we too will let go of the things that right now feel very important to us. We will stop chasing after our dreams because one day soon we will realize that as parents, we must help them realize theirs – that our interests sometimes must be let go.

 It is possible that in their eyes, we will be how I perceive you to be right now – uptight. They will think of us as boring and don’t know how to have fun. We will sound like broken record to them constantly reminding them about responsibility, accountability, integrity and compassion – above all, faith. They will hate us for grounding them, for putting limits to what they can and cannot do and for disciplining them. Being the bad guy will be fine with us – only to see them become a better version of themselves.

We will make sacrifices that right now feel very hard to do. They will become our business and all things we’ll do and accept if only to see them happy. I just hope that one day too, I or my wife will receive a letter just like this for only then will I know that I raised a good kid.

I write to you, Nanay, to apologize for all the pains that I’ve put you through. I write to you because there is no reward to parenthood. You will not receive a plaque or a gold medal and you will not even receive a standing ovation or even just a pat in the back. But know this; you have my sincerest and unending thank you.

Today, I will make a promise to you. I will tell my kids about you. I will ask you the things I’ve written here and tell my children your story – of how one great mother have to let go of her dreams in order to make mine a possibility- a reality. So even if you didn’t get an award for being a great parent, you will always remain living – immortal, for your story will resonate and echo through the generations of our family. For it is the only way I can pay tribute to how great you are. You have my love and devotion, constantly.

It's Me.

Jero.