I am not a Mama’s boy

If we are having a coffee right now, I would share to you how or why I do not consider myself as a Mama’s boy.

When I was in Grade One, I would complain to my mother why she would help my younger brother with his homework and wouldn’t help me. She said that at my age my brother would do his homework alone so I should do the same. So I asked my father to help me.

I don’t consider myself as a Mama’s boy maybe because I hated her a little when I was still small. Because my younger brother and I have a one-year gap in age, I was partly angry with her (and my brother) when I was still a small boy because I can’t get enough attention from her (and I still have three other siblings). Maybe that’s why I always go to my father. Sometimes, I would have “foster” parents whenever my uncles and aunties would “borrow” me as their child and go stroll somewhere like in the market or in our province. Having an extended family here in the Philippines do supply me with a lot of caretakers aside from my parents. Sorry for the digression. Reflecting in my relationship with my parents, I consider myself closer to my father and not so close to my mother as a young boy and would only catch up with my relationship with her when I enter high school.

During weekends during my high school and college days, if I am not playing sports or computer games outside, I spend most of my time with my mother in our house. For some reasons, I have my weekends free at home while my siblings are out in school or work. She is a non-practicing accountant and a stay home mom. And when she does have some freelancing tasks, she would ask me to type some documents in our computer (which I hate to do but I still obey). And speaking of computer, the only time I see my mother use out desktop is when she plays the Spider solitaire. Unlike my father whom I heckle a lot whenever he plays online chess, I can’t heckle my mom (not that much) because a solitaire is played solo and offline. In my free times spent talking about ordinary things, our neighbors, and my blatherings would help me catch up with my relationship with Mama.

Before I finish college, there was one time when I had a talk with Mama and I opened up a topic about the girl I am courting. I was surprised to hear her share her love story with Papa. And knowing that my mother is usually secretive, that was rare to hear stories like that from her.

When my classmates in college saw my parents during graduation, they told me that I look like my mother. Maybe that’s why it’s hard for me to integrate with my cousins from my father side because I look different from them (that applies to my other three siblings except our youngest).

And when I entered religious life, I remember the deep sadness I felt when I said goodbye that left me crying inside the tricycle.

Speaking of crying, the only time I saw her cry was in the airport when it was time for her to leave the country last February. Actually, I saw her about to cry then she turned her back on us. And I told my father that Mama was about to cry. Like Mama, I was holding back my tears as well. The details why she left is a bit complicated and a long story to write. Whenever there’s a death of a relative in our mother side, she would prefer to go to our province alone. I wonder why Mama always want to act tough. I want her to be more tender but that’s not Mama. But that’s Mama and I love her the way she is.

So maybe “I used to be not a Mama’s boy” will be a more appropriate title for this post.

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