Memorial for Zeny Cenzon: Mommy-Missing Feelings

Ever since I opened my eyes to this life, Ma was there. She's always supposed to be there to listen to my problems, wipe away my tears, give me strength, help me with anything I need, scold me when I'm being bad... I took it for granted that she will do this for me forever. Isn't that a really selfish thought which you can only expect from your children?!

Sure, I knew that wasn't true. But nevertheless, I wanted to believe it. I won't accept any other truth. We can fool ourselves that way. We do it all the time. Hurtful truths are left at the back of our minds... we can examine them in the deepest darkest hours of our solitude, but in the light of day, we shove it at the back of our consciousness. Ma dying? Nah! Are you crazy!!! Don't speak of such things! - Total denial.

When we were younger, our mother wasn't always our favorite person... especially when we were in our teens and experimenting with different things. She was like the voice of doom, telling us not to do this, not to do that. We rebelled against her constant warnings and reminders. I did. We think she's out to prevent our happiness. That's the way we think of our Mothers when we didn't know better and we were young and naive.

When she passed away, and I can no longer hear her voice talking to me... I felt a deep void where she used to be. You see, we only appreciate that our mother's are women too, when you reach a certain age. You can appreciate her from a different perspective and understand her more.. we see her efforts and struggles when we experience it ourselves...

We use her as a sounding board and talk about me,me,me... and she will just sit there and listen to us rant and rave about our precious life. We do this because our mothers have magic! Somehow, just having her to talk to made everything alright. Knowing she was there was our comfort - she was my comfort and strength. Never mind if I didn't show it or tell her so. It was the truth and I know that she knows it. She knows me better than anyone. It's the talking that I really miss. The validations. The "You're a good woman, Anak."

At times like today, I wish I could talk to her. I look at her pictures and the pain just rushes back. It hasn't diminished at all.. and now there is a certainty that I will never speak to her again... that makes it all the more painful, having to accept that because hey! there's no shoving it in the back of my mind this time! It's obvious that she's gone and this is the only place where I can see her and commune with her memories. It's cruel... this truth.

I wish I knew then what I know now, Ma. Life is hard without you. I get this mommy-missing feelings that no one else can satisfy. I just need to say hi and read your crazy text messages that needs to be deciphered by Einstein himself. It's the small things that really get me down.

When Ma goes into her dramatic moods, I always tell her that I'm not ready to lose her. We had plans... Isn't that right Ma?

I'm a grown up and independent woman, and I miss being my mother's little girl. I miss you Ma. I need you to tell me that I'm doing the right things and that you're proud of me.

Yeah, I'd really love to hear that from you right now...