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Thursday, December 21, 2023

"Mommy 2" by Cyril S

 

1:45 a.m.—that was the time my lola (grandmother) from my dad’s side passed away. I woke up around 6:30 a.m. and started studying for a quiz I had later in the day. At around 7:06 a.m., there was some noisy disturbance coming from outside my room. This was usually the time when everyone was awake and getting ready for the day, so instinctively, I kept studying for the quiz. Twenty minutes later, I still heard the loud commotion of what sounded like a crying, laughing baka (cow). Then, I heard another person crying but also laughing with the other person. I assumed they were my sister and dad’s cries of laughter and thought my dad had shown my sister a funny Instagram reel. Curious, I walked out of my room and into the sounds of cries and laughter that were coming from inside the bathroom. “Well, I’ll be damned,” I said to myself. I was completely wrong; both my sister and dad were grieving over his mom passing away unexpectedly.

I stood there in complete shock, trying to understand the unfortunate situation, and I made sure not to say anything stupid that would further amplify their feelings of sorrow. They both looked at me, terribly hurt. Their shirts were soaked in tears, along with snot dripping down. Their faces were so red, I thought they were drunk. That is, when my sister told me, “Mommy 2 (my dad’s mom) is gone,” there was a short pause. My dad and sister kept crying as they walked out of the bathroom to pray for Mommy 2 at our altar. Initially, my whole emotional state was in shock; I was trying to perceive what I was just told. My face was turning pale as I started reminiscing about the memories I had made with Mommy 2. For example, there was a time when I disliked her habits of snoring too much at night and having little to no morals when we would eat during the day. In context, Mommy 2 had come to visit us and brought many gifts from the Philippines. At the time, I was in the 3rd grade with a lot of social anxiety, but at the same time, I was extremely childish. I found Mommy 2 hard to look at and nicknamed her Mrs. Lizard Skin, though I made sure to be careful if I were to be caught. It was completely normal for me to talk behind other people’s backs and say rude things about them quietly. I never once thought of how teachers always said, "There are consequences to your actions,” and often paid less attention in class than during recess. Stupid enough, I would say those negative things quietly when I thought Mommy 2 was sound asleep, snoring the night away. She must have heard what I had said about her because the next morning, I witnessed her breaking down in tears beside my dad and mom. Both my parents looked extremely disappointed at me. I felt guilty and went up to her to apologize for what I had said about her earlier. It was at that moment that I learned a valuable lesson about how our actions have consequences. She stopped crying and looked at me. I gave her a warm hug and broke down, confessing everything bad I had said previously about her. We both started crying together and began talking, understanding one another. Another valuable lesson I learned from her was to “not judge a book by its cover." At first, I thought her snoring and lack of morals were meant to purposely irritate and annoy us; however, I later learned how honest she was, explaining to me that in the Philippines, it was completely normal, and she apologized for her actions. That memory holds dearly to me because this was the first time I felt I had done anything correct in my life as a 3rd grader. 

Back to the present, my whole family and I were praying for the loss of Mommy 2. We all cried and hugged each other, expressing our condolences and feelings of love for Mommy 2. She was a beautiful and wise woman who I very much loved and respected ever since I was a little kid. She was the reason why I and my other siblings exist. She was nothing short of a miracle for her contagious humor, and I hope I’ll see her once again and meet her up in heavens with everyone there who awaits my arrival.

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