⏳Author’s Note (2026) I wrote this in January 2019. Seven years later, I smiled while reading it again. Much has changed, yet much has remained the same. My children have grown older, and so have I. We have weathered seasons of joy and sorrow, misunderstanding and reconciliation, difficulty and triumph, but one thing continues to be true, despite their busy schedules—they find time to invite me to hang out, laugh with them, be their friend or just simply be their mom. Looking back, I realize my “so be it” was not about giving up, but about choosing gratitude for every opportunity God gave us to share with each other.

Things happened in the past. I was hurt. I walked away.  They say time heals all wounds. Time did pass, and little by little, I felt better. It took four long years,  but I reached a place where I could truly forgive—even without ever hearing the words “I’m sorry”. Then yesterday, something happened. An incident related to that old hurt was unintentionally revealed to me. It involved the same person, the same people. Can an old wound that has become a scar be opened again? Because it bothered me, I talked to my children. “Mama,”  Ningning said, “that’s a new hurt. It’s a new wound. It only happens to be connected to the old one and involves the same people.” Her words made total sense. Yet, with this new incident, memories of the past came rushing back. I realized that while I had forgiven, I had not forgotten. Forgiving vs. Forgetting So before I let go…  I realized forgiving and forgetting are not the same thing. The memories remained, but forgiveness was w...

If I were to describe myself as a mother in one word, it would probably be controlling .  Even with the strong personalities of my children, I often managed to have the final say. I wanted things done my way— not because I wanted to control their lives, but because I genuinely believed I knew what was best for them. I realize that was rooted in one thing: worry. I worried they might get hurt. I worried something bad might happen. I worried they weren’t ready for the world. Was I overprotective? Maybe. Actually… probably. “Ma Kelan Mo Ako Bibitawan?” Take my eldest son, Noknok, for example. When he was applying for his first job in Manila, my husband and I accompanied him to his interview. Go ahead… You may laugh now. 😄 It was my idea. I simply couldn’t imagine him traveling alone to a place more than 70 kilometers away from home. Never mind that he was already old enough to apply for a job. It’s true—he was already driving for years. Yet, I wouldn’t allow him to drive beyond the ...

Yeye and I took a picture while enjoying our conversation. We had so much to tell each other. We laughed, talked about ordinary things, and looked forward to extraordinary ones. We were excited. Neither of us imagined that just days later, a heartbreaking event would change everything. Drex and Yeye posted this on social media: “Bigat sa pakiramdam. Hirap tanggapin…We love you Baby Cloud. Dada and Mama love you very much.” As a mother, my first instinct—as it has always been—was to reach out and comfort them, especially Yeye. I thought a mother would always have the right words to say. “I’m sorry.” “It will be okay.” “God has a purpose.” “Bata ka pa naman. Bata pa naman kayo.” “Yung iba nga years pa bago nagka-anak.” Three years have come and gone, I still remember the intense emotions of that day more clearly than any words spoken. I no longer remember exactly what I said that day—only the heaviness of it, and how little any sentence seemed to help. I was a mother who wanted her...