Thin flimsy arms I only noticed now. My mom's. I felt a tinge of sadness over her frailty that normally doesn't show, at least to me. But her smile is the sweetest as she kisses me on the cheek, oblivious of my thoughts and feelings.
Before she sits down, she opens her bag to show all the food she bought for me and take these out one by one. Overflowing food despite my countless attempts to remind her that I am already taken care of by my husband and even before that, since I have long since earned a living.
I have lived my life independently for the past 14 years. At the age of 20, I became a breadwinner of a family of four. And by 21 I left our home in the province to face a more rewarding job opportunity in the metro. It may be heartbreaking for others to leave their home but for me it meant freedom from the clutches of my parents' overprotection.
When I became a teenager, I felt suffocated at home. I wasn't permitted to go to sleepovers or summer outings. Even buying my fave chichiria in the sari-sari store, they would rather go out of the house to buy it instead or at least accompany me should I insist in going out.
Being a couple who took 7 years before bearing a child made my parents overprotective of their children. But moreso mom's mental condition then aggravated our situation. Our home was both a haven and a prison. In my mind that is.
Thus I wanted to break free from our household although not actively seeking it. Thank God, when the opportune time came, I won the debate of leaving home without having to be disrespectful.
But my life has been a pendulum for the past 14 years. Despite the freedom I constantly sought, I also wanted to go back to the province... to them. I have always dreamt of going back to live in the province although not necessarily living with my parents again.
Now my dream finally materialized because my business permits me to work anywhere and my husband was surprisingly open to relocate. As was their nature, my parents, especially my mom, overwhelmed me with their doting when we relocated back to the province. As of this writing, she visits me almost everyday.
Only until recently did I start accepting that my mom will always see me as her baby. To her, I will still be the 2-year-old she taught ABCs and 123s. Maybe even if I'll have my children, it will still be the same. But I have managed to accept that.
Because I now know that I don't have much time.
Not because one of us is sick or dying. Thank God it didn't come to that.
So I smile as I open the door to her knocking. I open my arms to embrace her as she leans to kiss my cheek as she always does.
I willingly accept everything she gives --- the viands, the snacks, the fruits, the juices --- her love.
Now I fully understand that nothing is permanent. Not even the strength of my mother's arms. Arms that held me dearly... back when I didn't know my ABCs and 123s.
