I want to say sorry for being so incapable of helping you see, hear, and feel the things that you’ve always wanted.
I didn’t know how to help you through the pain. It was so hurtful to see you very weak and dying. But I was able to carry a little of your boundless burden by knowing what was inside: your anger, your discomforts, your silence, your dreams.
You will always be Mommy. I won’t see you anymore but I can still watch you stitch my torn polo in my dreams. I can’t touch you anymore, but I can still feel you in my heart. I won’t hear you answer my question, “kumusta mami?!”, but I can always listen to your voice I recorded through my phone without you knowing it.
For a great woman who has been bowed and whose hands have been a mark of hard work and kinship, I SALUTE YOU! God will crown your endeavors in heaven.
Yours with a prayer,
P.S. You are more beautiful in this picture than when I saw you a while ago.