Our wonder woman at Home

                Two months ago, my mom fractured her right hipbone while trying to restrain our burly, boisterous house dog. She was in pain for the next few days and was totally bedridden for over a month. It was heartbreaking to see her, someone so mobile and active  suddenly go docile and quiet. When it happened, we just had to tell her we told her so.

                At 83 years old (this coming November 7), she still thinks she is wonder woman sans the costume and she simply hates it when we try to slow her down.  I guess it was God’s way of slowing her down and reminding her she was no longer 30 or 50 or 60; that she is 83!  That was one of the very few times she ever took a leave from her well-loved household chores.

                I am sorry to have to say this… but my mom is extremely headstrong. Before the accident, she insisted on going to the market – everyday, for fresh food supplies; even when we argued that carrying the bags was already too much for her and that she might slip and sprain an ankle going around the wet area.  Many times in the past few years, she’d find herself way, way past our house while taking public transportation on her way home.  She’d laugh it off and reasoned that she was either falling asleep; too engrossed in a thought or that it was simply an honest to goodness human mistake anyone can make. The verdict: There was absolutely no reason for us to worry even if she had to come home late from visits to relatives or from church-related activities.  And not too long ago too, she still took 12 hours overnight bus trips – ALONE! Now every time she isn’t home when she should be, we know she has again outsmarted us by secretly slipping to my father’s hometown, about 100 kms away. A call from a relative always confirms our guess. Well at least, she’s only about 4 hours away by bus and will surely be home by night. 

                Over the years, she has developed pneumonia which, sometimes had her confined in a hospital. Her doctor had seriously advised her against using strong-smelling cleansing agents such as chlorine or Clorox that triggers the recurrence of her respiratory illness.  But my “wonder woman” mom, until now, considers it a myth. Somewhere in our big, old, rundown house she always keeps a bottle. Sometimes, we chance upon it, throw it down the drain; many times we’d come home to find the house spic and span, reeking with the smell of it.  And when she does end up, again, in the hospital, come hell or high waters, she will never agree that chlorine was the culprit! She simply fell sick, period! She has such an obsession to cleaning up both the house and herself. The last time she was confined, Doc gently cautioned her against her obsessive behavior.  She was quietly up before sunrise the next day, in the hospital, and bathed in cold tap water before anyone could stop her.  Boy, were we furious! 

                But I wouldn't have have any other way. My wonder woman mom loves unconditionally. No occasion deserves a less than special treat. She took those long 12-hour trips even if no one can make it with her just to be with her grandchildren on their birthdays and be their cook for a day. Her best-kept recipes are spiced up with a lot of love and a generous amount of service. She stirs and whips with untiring passion and she takes great pains to set the table beautifully even when she knows that in less than a minute, the table will be a mess when everyone, her rowdy grandsons especially, dive for her delicious dishes. Whenever we go to visit her, send-offs are like nowhere else in this planet. She cooks like there is no tomorrow; gives until the kitchen is left empty and refuses to settle with just the send-off bags - she sees us off until the bus is out of sight. 

In this age of electronic mails and messaging, she remains a faithful patron of hallmark cards and  handwritten love letters, given the fact that she can no longer write legibly since years back because of hand tremors. Yet, she will never miss an occasion without sending out a card. 

I guess, if she can have her way, she would have loved to raise everyone of her 18 grandchildren, with as much love and dedication she gave us growing up.

                Now I want the world to know how blessed I am to have her for my mother. For the times I fought with her, broke her heart, let her down, made her feel less loved, unimportant, unappreciated; I wish I could take back every one of them and I am so sorry. But I know she has forgiven me lovingly every time. I hope she knows that I love her constantly and I will always thank God for her in my life. I hope she knows that life is more colorful, more dramatic (ha ha), so much more wonderful because she is my mom.

I have added her picture taken last Jan.1, 2014 during the family new year celebration. She was on her toes before she celebrated her 83rd birthday. Wonder woman is back!