homage to the lamp

(source)

A house will be full of darkness and chaos without a lamp. But even the tiniest  flicker can spark a ray of hope and make all the difference.

She emitted a faint, modest glow. Many people thought that her light was too muffled to brighten a huge room enveloped in uncertainty and too hazy to illuminate a long and dark road ahead. But no matter how little she could emit, she was capable of producing a sensation of brightness and that shimmer did not waver even when strong winds blew past it.

My mother became a widow at 39, a strong wind blew for a quaint little light that she was. I cannot even begin to imagine how “that” life had been for her. Of course, we, her children shared in the uneasy aftermath of my father’s death, but ours were only that feeling of not having enough. Hers was that and the burden of responsibility of suddenly facing the tedious job of single parenting. Perhaps, it was a lot more. How lonely her nights might have been and we have selfishly let her endure that throb since her children decided that she will not remarry.   

No matter how dark the road was ahead of her, she kept a stark faith that she will get through. She has to get through since she has 6 kids in tow that she has to bring to the light of day. I cannot seem to measure the strength of her character or how stern her will was. It must be the kind of will that leaned on something greater and stronger. Sometimes waking for a midnight pee, I can see her on the stairs, her Bible on the step, her hand wiping something that got in her eye and asking me, “asa man ka?” (where are you going?). She forces herself a smile. I knew even then that she sometimes cannot sleep and that she will just wait on the steps and her Bible for the crowing of the rooster.  

Mamang was a very plain woman. Simplicity was her core. She was just without pretense, her laugh was calm yet unreserved. And she is often silent to a point of being misunderstood. But her being inarticulate, she made up for eloquently in deed.

She was a very hardworking housewife. She was good at keeping the house in order and she can do chores for the whole day if she was not occupied looking for means to be able to serve decent food on our table or put back the electricity connection on or give us some baon to school.  

She did not earn her degree, reason why she moved heaven and earth, mortgage and debt, just to let us get one. She wanted us to realize the dream that she only weaved in her mind. She had worked to send herself to school for a while until she was forced to stop schooling to look after her sick father. She will marry anyway, her mother told her, and she wouldn’t need a college diploma for that.   

My mother lets us be. She is nowhere near that image of a stage mother but she had always been a proud one. However, in letting us be, we, her children made many choices which failed to consider her affections and shattered her ambitions for each one of us: grandchildren sans in-laws, years of schooling sans the degree, children seeking desperately for their independence and morph in the shape of the pop crowd. I know she was hurt, maybe to an extent deeper than she allowed us to notice. But in all these mistakes and failures, she gladly embraced us back to her arms as if nothing went past. It all seemed like an embrace of a mother when her child who was gone for a while comes back home.

I know many wrangled about her lack of iron hand. That she had been too soft. And at some point, I was one of those who did. But could a rigorous claw have prevented some things to happen and altered the course of events? The mistakes made us grow, perhaps even in a more mature and broader sense. I have seen her shrug off the question of being faint-hearted. Authority and control is but a tiny component to a job called parenting. What she gave us was her steadfast love and profound understanding.  And it will be a long list of things that she did and does for us. 

Many years have passed and through her labor and love, we were brought out to the light of day. Or at least, we are already seeing what not being in the dark is like. It’s about time for her to just sit back and enjoy the setting of the sun, knowing that even though the night will be long and dark, the sun will always come up in the morning. Perhaps, that is the single most important lesson that she has instilled in me.  

  

A house will be full of darkness and chaos without a lamp. But even the tiniest of flicker can spark a ray of hope and that can make all the difference. I wish God will give her a longer life to keep the home aglow.