Organized Chaos - A Mama's Herstory
I vividly remember sitting at work one day, and suddenly a young father burst into the room and started ranting about his Filipino in-laws. He forced all of us (me and a couple of co-workers) to listen to him gripe about how they constantly ‘butt in’ to his business.
He explained his disgust with their constant reminders of how dangerous his choice of sport was.
“…They keep telling us that we should be more careful now that we have the baby…”
“…And we should be spending more time with the baby…”
“…That’s how Filipino parents are…they give up their whole life for their kids…”
He continued on with complaining. But as he said that last phrase, my head tilted to the side and I stared blankly. I was somewhat dumbfounded, but nevertheless “flexing my claws”, ready to pounce. I believe he knew that I am Filipino. I had come to the US when I was ten, but I was born and raised in the Philippines.
I thought, either he’s an ignorant little prick, or he is prejudiced, or he knows a whole country-full of Filipinos, or he’s really just an ignorant little prick. But, aren’t all good parents like that? Isn’t that part of parenthood? They provide and nourish and hope that their kids have happy healthy lives? Don’t most parents want their kids to have a better life than theirs?
When I became a parent, I had a new understanding of what parents will do for their kids. It was twenty-seven years ago, Marissa, my first born, was just a year old. I had just put her down for the night and I started a letter to my mother in the Philippines. I explained to her that, with a child of my own, I could not understand how she could send her own daughter, alone, to a strange land to live with strangers.
"I wonder why you had given me away", I wrote.
For a long time I resented my mother for sending me away. I was ten years old, stripped away from the only home I ever knew, and sent off across the Pacific Ocean to live with an aunt I had never met. At the time, my relatives would entice me with the glorified life in “America”, and instill in me just how lucky I was to be going, and I believed it. In the eyes of a ten-year old, America was big staircases, chandeliers, butlers, and big long tables with mounds full of food, just like on TV. In reality, I learned that my future was already mapped out for me. I was to get educated, get a job, get married, and help the family back home. As a rebellious adolescent, I resented my mother for taking me away from the rest of the family. I resented my implied future and I resented the assumption that I would provide for the rest of the family. Because of all these things, I wanted nothing to do with the Philippines or the family.
At the time, I only felt angry that I was taken away from the family, but now I remember that I was also taken from a difficult situation. As I recall growing up, it would seem that the grace of God missed our house. It was rumored that the horseshoe kept above the front door by “Lola”, (that’s grandma in Filipino), had been nailed upside down, and invited bad luck. My mother was diabetic and asthmatic, with seven girls, and no father around. I was seven of seven. With an ailing mother, it was left to the three oldest sisters to put food on the table. Eventually, two of my sisters were sent to live with another aunt. They were to cook and clean for my aunt’s family, in exchange for room and board and a college education.
As I have grown older, I have realized that I had the better life than my Mama and my sisters. I had more opportunities, and I had more support than they ever did.
In exchange, I was left out of all the big family gatherings, and I’ve missed out on generations of families, and seeing them grow.
The ten year old me could have written a novel of all the growing pains I have endured living here in the U.S. on my own, but they are a whimper compared to the daily lives of my sisters.
When I would go back home to visit I saw how my sisters carried on with all the obstacles in their way. Simple things such as having running water, or being prepared for the next big storm, or having food on the table can be a brutal life routine. The situation in the Philippines is much worse than the U.S. with regards to unemployment, poverty, etc. There’s a very male ‘Macho’ mentality, and a strongly Catholic-based society. It all adds up to life in the Philippines can be a struggle, and my family faced more than our fair share. We were known as the bad luck family, because of all the girls and no boys. It was as if there were forces out there in the universe that seemed to focus on ‘challenging’ my family. I see the hardships on their bodies, and yet they continue to have a smile on their faces.
Over the years now, I've worked to reconnect with my sisters.It’s their strength and determination and that nurturing instinct, that has led me to be more grateful for what I have. I have lived through being poor. Not poor like you can’t go out with friends ‘poor’, not poor like you can’t buy the latest electronic gadget, or you don’t have a car. I mean poor like not having anything to eat for a whole day or having rice and rock salt as the meal for the whole day kind of ‘poor’. My siblings and I have persevered through that kind of life. It’s an unsettling thought to bring a family into the world and not know how to provide for them. I have seen it in my Mama’s face, and I have gone through it raising my own kids. And I see a gleam of it in my sisters’ eyes. Parenthood is one of the hardest, worst paid, (sometimes unwanted) jobs. But in my sisters’ eyes, it’s a job of a lifetime.
“…that’s how Filipino parents are…they give their whole life for their kids…”
I realized my mother sacrificed a lot to send me. That night, twenty-seven years ago, I was writing to thank my Mama, and let her know that her sacrifice, her love was not wasted. But I only realized too late. I was about a paragraph into the letter when the phone rang. It was from the Philippines, to notify me of my mother’s death.
We are now four sisters, with our three older sisters lost to cancer. And after my own affliction with cancer, I have made a point to “stop and smell the roses”. I try to Seize the Day but sometimes it seizes me. Whatever I have or don’t have – whatever I am struggling through, the glass is always half full. I am grateful! I am doing my best to fulfill my Mama’s wishes for me, in a backwards kind of way. I have a wonderful family (and inherited two more sisters by marriage). Now that all my kids have graduated from college, I can go back to college and maybe get a real job. I do what I can to help the sisters back home in the Philippines. I strive to pay it forward.
Having just returned home from a recent visit with the sisters, I’m adjusting to the separation from the family once again. As if that ten-year old girl departs once again, only now she sees what she leaves behind.
This last visit seemed more rushed and more chaotic than usual, but I tried to get my fill of the family all the same. My sisters pampered & spoiled me like a princess. And I tried to do the same to them. We see one another every four years, when we are together we reminisce of our childhood. Maybe it was because of so many women, we persevered through our childhood. It’s funny really, even though we grew up without parental guidance, we managed to learn respect, integrity, compassion, responsibility, and accountability. As a parent, I can only hope that I have taught my kids such values.
And as a parent, (Filipino or not, and I’m just one), yes, I would give my whole life to ensure that my kids live healthy, happy lives. My mama realized her sacrifice so I may live a better life than hers. That’s what parenthood has taught me, unselfishness. I think any good parent would want to give whatever they can give to their kids so they may reach their full potential. It also means we get to watch and be part of their unwritten story as it unfolds.
