Mothers’ nine lives

Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 07 July 2025

For the first time in 25 years since daddy’s passing, I did not deliver any homily during his death anniversary Mass in our home last June 17, 2025. My sisters readily agreed when I told them after the gospel proclamation “hindi na ako mag-homily at baka maiyak lang tayo.”

It was the second time we celebrated daddy’s death anniversary after mommy’s passing last May 7, 2024 but, it was only at that time when I truly felt the deeper realities of both parents being gone, of being “ulilang lubos”.

Perhaps that’s because we have been preoccupied for over two decades with mommy’s grief when dad passed away right on her 61st birthday before dawn of June 17, 2000. We were at a loss how to pacify her with such a surreal date for the two most loving couple we have known first hand. During my dad’s wake, we have to warn everybody not to mention anything about mom’s birthday.

From then on, mommy practically stopped celebrating her birthday even when she turned 70, 75, and 80 as we threw small gatherings at home for her siblings and friends but she would always remind us all not to forget it was also daddy’s death anniversary.

That is why I have always dreaded the days approaching June 17 because I felt sad for her. I thought after her death last year, it would be different because we would no longer see mommy sad on her birthday mourning dad’s death. I told myself, “hindi na malulungkot si mommy… hindi na rin kami malulungkot.”

But I was wrong.

Hindi na nga malungkot ang mommy ko ngayon pero ako naman ang malungkot – malungkot na malungkot. Noon ngang araw ng Linggo bago mag-June 17, naalala ko ang mommy at daddy bigla kaya naluha ako sa bahagi ng Ama Namin noong aming Misa sa Dambana. Wala na sila dito. Iyon una ko nadama, ulila na nga kami at saka pa lamang naisip ko magkasama na sila sa buhay na walang hanggan.

Indeed, the pains of losing our loved ones never decrease through time but actually increase. Those pains will remain until we are reunited with them in death and eternity.

There are pains in life meant to remain, that cannot be removed like a hole or a scar in our hearts not to burden nor hurt us but to uplift us actually. These wounds keep us in persevering in love to keep our relationships alive with those left behind after the deaths of our loved ones like parents or children. These wounds enable our hearts to sing of faith, hope and love in God all merciful who would one day unite us all together as one family after our days on this earth. These pains make us see the very thin line separating us from eternity, telling us that life goes on among us even after death. They open our eyes to see beyond, to have visions of the future.

While these things were running through me during our family dinner that night, my brother presented to me mommy’s “kitty bank” which is older than I am, 61 years old. It is one of her most cherished possessions she truly took great care as far as I can remember.

I have been thinking about it recently if it were still around though I never had any interest with it when growing up as a child except that I enjoyed counting the rare coins inside mostly dating back to the American occupation with the usual designs of the US flag and an eagle.

That evening on dad’s 25th death anniversary that could have been mom’s 86th birthday if she were still alive today, I felt a very strong attraction with that “kitty bank” whose face seemed to be speaking to me.

As I held it closer to see its many fissures and tapes following the wear and tear of over 60 years, I saw mommy again, of how she loved us and life so much, especially cats, dogs and fish, and most of all, plants- being a certified tita herself. Our house may be small but mommy lovingly took care of her pets and plants, always talking with them even after having a stroke.

Like the cat with its nine lives, death is never the end but the prelude to new life or, more lives hereafter.

And that is the nobility and giftedness of every mother – even after they are gone, they continue to bring forth and nurture life. God bless everyone… and the cats.