Before there was Aristotle, there was a woman,
Before Shakespeare, there was a woman,
Before Lincoln, there was a woman,
Before Bill Gates, there was a woman.
Before fame, there was a woman,
Before riches, there was a woman,
Before invention, there was a woman,
before humanity, there was a woman.
-cpilosopotasya-
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Because it is mothers' month and the birth month of my mother, I will talk about her today.
She is a woman of no education. I mean zero. According to her, she had no motivation to go to school because schooling especially for a woman like her is a luxury as she came from an impoverished family in a remote village in the mountains. As a result, she neither can read nor write. I have always pitied her for that but it didn't trouble her at all (at least so I thought).
She is also a woman whom I saw as a child full of anger and hatred in life. There was never a day when I didn't see her mad at many things. At least there is one that pumps her blood so high in a day. Most days, I would see her nag at my father for reasons I really don't understand.
My dad on the other hand is the most kind hearted and soft spoken man I have ever seen in my entire life. The more I see my dad, the more that I saw the flaws of her. As I child, I remember fearing her a lot and not liking her at all.
There were even times when I would run away from home to escape her wrath towards me, my siblings and mostly to my father. I have nowhere to go anyway so in the end, I would just go home. Sometimes, when the fighting starts, I would carry my younger siblings and take them out so they won't be listening to all the commotions inside the house.
As a child, I never saw the reason for her to show all those painful stuff to my younger siblings and I hated her so much for that. There was also a time when she bought a bottle of San Miguel and started drinking and smoking inside the house. I remember myself crying and begging her to stop because my sister was a baby and is still being nursed. How could she feed my sister when she is full of alcohol. I don't remember if my begging worked then. What I am certain is that I can still feel the pain I felt then while I am writing this.
What have we done to deserve all these? Maybe she had problems but I don't really see the reason as to why she had to do what she did. I can only cry out to the Lord and beg to let her stop. My belief in God was my only solace then. It kept me going I'm sure of that.
Words are not enough to describe all those terrible things I saw from her while growing up. I had the worst life and the worst mother then so I thought. If I will narrate all those things which I thought are really terrible about her, my list won't end. So let me stop here.
I am now a mother and I wonder what kind of mother am I to my children. Would they be saying things like those I mentioned earlier? or Do I want them to say good things that will show that I am not like my mother? I worry a lot about, "The apple doesn't fall from the tree". Who would want to be like my mother?
However, I think the real problem here is not really my mother. It is me. As to why is that, let me explain.
A few years back, I had a chat with Anti Penny, a neighbor who was more of a mother to me when I was young. She didn't have daughters so she would always borrow me from my mom and bring me anywhere she goes whether the church or the cinema. I loved her more than my mother then. While we were chatting, we talked about my mom's condition as she was diagnosed of cervical cancer and had to undergo a series of chemo and brachy therapy and eventually a surgery.
Anti Penny told me things I never thought of before as I was so blinded by those haunting experiences coupled with anger and resentment towards my mother. She started of by saying that I am very lucky to have a mother like her because despite her being illiterate, she still manages to do a lot of things for the family. She continued that my mother is a very strong woman and she admired her for that. I can only look at her expressionlessly because I never thought anyone from our small community would think that towards my mother.
Our house was built with cheap wood and recycled galvanized iron sheets with small holes so I am pretty sure that with the loudness of my mom's voice, I whole community knows her story.
As I parted ways with Anti Penny, I thought of many things.
My father worked as a miner in a very good company. They are paid weekly so Saturdays are the happiest days of the week. Children like me would wait outside the mining office for our fathers to come out with their envelopes full of cash. My dad would buy something for me and let me go home on my own with a whole dressed chicken or a kilo of beef or pork then he would go to his friends and drink and come home the next day. I am pretty sure of this but I never saw it as a problem. I thought that he did his job and he deserves a break from work. Maybe, I thought why could my mom not understand that? Is she not happy that we can enjoy a whole chicken or beef or pork? Can she not be contented with that.
I realized that my mom just like any young mother with small children and a husband who prioritizes his friends over his family would really feel disappointed. We weren't rich. We only enjoyed good food on my dad's salary day. The next day, we are poor as rats as there is no more money left to buy food because he spent most of his money to alcohol, cigars and even gambling. But my dad was not that bad. When his third child was born, he totally abandoned all his vices.
The fights did not stop anyhow. It even became more terrible. My dad became jobless in 1990 after the big earthquake that struck our region when the mines had to declare the retrenchment of employees. The mines eventually stopped its operations.
For us to survive, we were 4 children then, my father had to engage in small scale mining which was illegal then as the mining corporation is still claiming ownership of the mining site. Small scale mining was very difficult that time. Consequently, my mother had to do something. She cannot be weak at this time because she has four children to feed. Thus, she started with farming. She planted corn, peanuts and many more. While waiting for harvest, she would clean houses and do the laundry of other people to get paid. Then she applied as a carrot washer in a vegetable section in a nearby town. She would take the first trip in the morning (4:00 AM) to go to work then commute at about 8:00 in the evening to go home. she had that routine for years but she never got tired.
Before she was diagnosed of cancer, she worked as a lady miner like most women in the locality. Their job is to wait outside the tunnels of the small scale mines (legal during that time) and take those gold ores that the miners meant to throw away as they don't have gold in them so they believe. The women would pound the ores and process them like how gold is processed and luckily get some gold.
Now, if I will continue telling you more about the sacrifices she made, is making and is willing to make, I would never stop. Those things I never understood were now clear to me. If there is one thing wrong about my mother, she loved her family so dearly that she was willing to do anything for them even if her children won't see her to be a hero. For her, she just had to do what she can no matter what other people thought of her. At present, I am just happy that she has recovered from cancer and I will be celebrating her 60th birthday in a few days.
As for my father, he remained soft-hearted and kind--perhaps the kindest because he is still trying his best to put up with the mood swings of his better half. He may not be the best in providing for the family but he was able to let us, his children, feel the warmth of love and care which our mother may have failed to give.
My parent aren't perfect in so many ways but they are perfect for each other. For that, I am forever grateful to them.
Let us bring my mother back to the spotlight and let me end with the continuation of the poem above.
You know Aristotle but that not that woman,
You know Shakespeare but not that woman,
You know Lincoln but not that woman,
You know Bill Gates but not that woman,
You may know me but not that woman,
But without that woman, there would be no me.
--cpilosopotasya--
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