Pwede ka ba ma-miss?

 I miss you so much, Nans.

 I wanted to write you a poem but I decided I didn’t want to be all mushy and poetic and stuff. I wanted to be true and not just acknowledge just the “good” things about you, which is what usually happens with poems. I wanted to remember you as someone human, as someone who also had faults. Besides, being flawed made you more endearing, I believe. You showed us that your imperfections did not hinder you. They instead helped you understand others more and love more. Your being human made you love the rest of humanity to the fullest.

 I know that not all our moments before were great. We had our tiffs and misunderstandings - lots of those really. But then, when I think about it now, even those were great. It added character to our relationship as mother and son. We had our little dance – dance of swords sometimes. But we danced and that’s what counts.

 Then, there’s the fact that I am your son. I am bound to be as feisty and stubborn as you. But I did acknowledge and respect your authority – even though I challenged it at times. I wouldn’t have had called you Supreme Court or Mudra Superiora if I didn’t.

 I have always looked up to you. I wanted to do things the way you did. I think that’s why I fought with you. Our little competition, our arguments, I think they happened because I wanted to be like you. I wanted to be as strong as you. I wanted to be as hard headed maybe. But I think you didn’t approve of me doing things exactly the way you did. Where’s the growth in that? - I could almost hear you say.

 It makes me wonder if that were the reason why you refrained from commandeering my and AB’s lives. I heard Tita Ging’s eulogy, you’re the supreme manager. You’re the management. If people allowed you to manage their lives, you would have. But you held back when it came to me and my sister.

 Sure, you would be nanay now and then, enforcing your will. But the major life decisions you left to us. You allowed us to do things differently, too. It must had irked you sometimes and you might had worried because we may not have had made the best decisions then. But you allowed them, nonetheless. Thank you for that. Whatever we chose led us to here and now so I guess we’re all good.

 You taught us well. I would have wanted to learn more but then I know you’d still be guiding us, albeit in a very different and possibly ethereal way. Maybe you could put in a good word for us, but then I believe you already have.

 I want you to rest now. You were a very hyperactive person – one of the most if not the most. You could not stay put for too long. If you did stay put, it was not quite like staying put. You’re too malikot (So I guess I got that from you). I guess being a superwoman’s a tough job.

 To be stuck in bed during your illness must had been crappy. You were a free spirit and to be incapacitated like that did not suit you. But you are freer than free now. Congratulations!

 But that also meant we needed to stay here and you had to go there, wherever there is. It’s been about a month and a half since you had gone and we’re still adjusting to things.

 Word, thought or intention – whichever gets to you there – might have reached you that I was robbed two weeks ago. Then again, maybe you were with me while I was fighting the frigging robbers. Anyway, after the incident, when I got home, I suddenly missed you so badly. I figured that you were no longer there physically. It sucked. Surviving a robbery is one of those stories I would have wanted to tell you about first.

 I imagined walking into the house and announcing what had happened to me. Then I’d grin, show you where I got nicked and laugh. I would’ve wanted to have seen your reaction. I didn’t get to see your reaction when the house in Pansol was almost robbed two years ago. I just called you on the phone. I still didn’t get to see your reaction this time around. A shame.

 I often find myself asking, what now. It is as if I – we – are doing things for the first time. There had been stuff I didn’t pay much attention to then that I must pay attention to now. Adjustments, adjustments, adjustments.

 Sometimes, when I think I have it down pat, something new crops up; things that I let you handle when you were around. The details, I always let you handle before. I now have to handle those too since you’re no longer here. But then, that’s life. I live, I learn, I grow. I think that’s how you would’ve wanted it to be for me.

 There’s still much to do and many dreams to pursue and realize. It’s a good thing AB and Tats are here to help keep things together. It’s unfortunate though that the anchor of the family – you – are gone. We’re now sailing uncharted waters. But we’ll manage. As I’ve said, you taught us well.

 Anyway, thanks for the chat. I just wanted to update you on what’s happening. I hope you’re doing okay, because we are.

 Good talk. Thanks for listening.

 I miss you, Nans.

 I love you.