Where ever I am, there's an invisible tug that never goes away. And even in the silence, I hear her infectious laughter. Whether I’m in a different time zone, in a war-torn province in the south, in a secluded island in Palawan, in an abandoned hut 200 steps above sea level or in the comfort of the shack I live in, there's that constant pull. Always eager for my attention. Always willing to share her life with me.
"Ma, look at this." "This, ma, this!" "Ma, listen, listen!" It could be a new drawing, another dance step. A new song or another story she wrote.
There is never a quiet moment unless she is asleep.
The tug is always there, whether I’m exhausted from work, hungry, sleepy, sleep-deprived or simply hormonal. And it breaks my heart that sometimes, I’m just too crazy to not respond.
Last week, I received early Happy Mother’s Day greetings. But I'm thinking...I really have yet to truly, deeply understand what it really means to be a mom.
I’m still learning. Every single day. With every tug. With every song and dance. With every step she takes. I'm guessing it would be another Happy Tug Day.
