Hi Mama Luz!
It has been a little over a year since you left us and flew with the angels up in heaven. Until now, it is still so difficult for me to accept that reality. There are times, like now, as I am writing this, that my heart aches for the million things that we were not able to do and for the million stories that we were not able to share because you were taken too early from us.
It was 2009, I was in second year college, when you had to take a forced indefinite leave from your job as an amazing teacher. That span of time was supposed to give you your freedom to get back on your knees or to try and be healed. You and Papa went to different doctors. One said you had Alzheimer’s Disease (AD) while the other said you had dementia. Honestly, there is a thin line between the two but AD is much scarier for the rest of the family because, it can be passed on to us your children.
During my college days, I have to move to the city to study. It’s around two to three hour bus ride, one way, from our home back to the city. Therefore, I seldom come home, maybe a weekend once or twice a month. Despite my distance, I receive constant messages and calls from Papa on how you were doing. Honestly, Ma, I did not know what to do. A part of me was thinking of quitting college and take care of you at home but the more selfish part of me wants nothing to do with your hardships. Until this very second, it still haunts me.
If I had left college and took care of you, would you have been better by now? If I was just a good daughter, would things turned out different? If I take a pause on living my life, would that make your life longer? These questions still haunts me. I still feel guilty after all these years. I was the only daughter and I am the eldest. I was “supposed” to be the one who took care of you when you needed it the most.
But at 17, I chose to live my own life. I chose to leave the problems at home and chose books and friends, and happier times in the city. I chose to run away from the responsibility of taking care of you. And until now, it’s too heavy to bear. Please don’t get me wrong, I hope. Please know that I love you so much. Maybe I just did not know how to show it or maybe I am just too much of a coward to bear the load at 17. Maybe I was a bad daughter after all.
Ma, this is going to be a series of letters that I am going to write to you every once in a while. I know, you might not be able to read them but I hope heaven has internet too.
Ma, I love you and I am sorry for being less.
Loving you up to the heavens and remembering you everyday,
Kring-Kring
Miss Imperfectly Perfect 