I got a call from my sister-in-law informing me that our mother-in-law had passed away.
Mama Mimi was an epitome of positive thinking. She had a kidney problem, high blood pressure, a heart bypass and recently, her third attack has hampered her speech.
In spite of her physical impediments no one could keep ma in bed for long. She would always want to move about, and she would keep herself meticulously busy with work whether it was in the kitchen or in the brokering field.
Having married twice, Mama would share that her only regret was she never could spend as much time with her family as she wanted to. She had two sets of children from her two marriages.
But Ma never allowed herself to wallow in depression although in the rare moments that we would spend together, she would just want to sit in silence in a corner and read. Every visit she had with us, she would try to give us all the attention she could muster to make up for the moments she was away.
She would cook for us like a chef and would adorn the dining table in style to give the room a fine dining ambiance. Food was a gastronomic showcase that would delight the taste buds as well as allow our eyes to feast.
Ma was a blessing to me. She allowed me to be a daughter and not just a daughter in law. She shamed difficult parents-in-law by being easy to get along with and being game albeit wise.
She would trade stories with us of her dreams that kept her drive up and her spirits high. She would relate her shortcomings and shrug them off as lessons to keep in mind.
I will miss Mama Mimi as she is laid to rest in her final bed. I will miss the short talks and texts we would share. The brief “I love you’s” that is atypical among in-laws – not to mention, a daughter-in-law and mother-in-law.
I will no longer have the small tokens she would always have ready for me in every visit we make to Manila. The bright-eyed and shyly pursed-lip conversations we would have when reminiscing or planning for a family event. The poise and the glam she would try to exude and would get away with.
Now, I won’t have her shoes to arbor, or jewelry to pick. But I will have memories. Pleasant ones, and a smile for every one of them.
Bye Ma. Via con Dio.