In Touch Volunteer
When I was a baby, my Nanay was working so she had my aunt take care of me. I loved her so much, I called her my Mama. When Nanay would fetch me from their house, I would hide and refuse to go home. I would go around, telling everyone that I am my Mama’s daughter. I had two wonderful mothers. Life was good.
Several months ago, I lost my Mama. When I heard the news, the first words I uttered to my ate were: “Kay nano?” — Waray words that meant “Why?”. Absolutely nothing made sense at that moment. As far as I knew, Mama was healthy. She was supposed to live a long life, long enough so that she could see us be successful, long enough so I could make my promise of building her a beautiful house a reality. I never expected to lose her so early.
It happened during the start of the lockdown. I was in Bulacan, Mama was in Samar. All I wanted was to see her for the last time – but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to grieve. How do you grieve for someone you deeply love when you couldn’t even be with her? Nothing felt real to me. There was no body to hold or weep to. In lieu of being in her funeral, all I got were photos of her inside the casket, sent through Facebook. It broke my heart. My Mama was dead, and I couldn’t even see her for the last time. All I could do was cry.
It was really dark for days. I would find myself weeping in the most unusual spaces. I would be washing the dishes, and I would just tear up. I was a Clinical Psychology student so I knew about grief in theory — but being in the middle of all that was difficult. I reached out to friends. I talked to them about how great a person my mama was. It helped knowing that although my mama was gone, I could still share her goodness and lightness to the rest of the world. I also knew I had to forgive myself for not being with her for the last time, and to accept that when the travel restrictions are eased and I could finally go home, she would not be there anymore. It helped remembering the last time I was with her. It was a good day. I treated Mama and my cousins to lunch. It was far from the grand things I have always wished to give her when I become successful — but it was all I had. And mama was happy.
Even now, I still find myself feeling the pain as if it were all new. And maybe I would carry this pain with me for the rest of my life — but greater than this pain are my Mama’s love and memory. My mama who had a wonderful singing voice. My mama who loved karaoke so much, she would never let other people hold the mic. My mama who adored roses. My mama who liked sitting outside the house and just watching people pass by. My mama who used to tell me stories so I could fall asleep. Her love is one of the lightest feelings in the world — and I would carry that with me too. Always.
#InTouchStoriesofHope aims to bring you mental and emotional relief during the COVID-19 pandemic through the inspiring stories and perspectives of In Touch community of counselors, volunteers, partners, and clients.
Pat Villaseñor is a second year MS Clinical Psychology student at De La Salle University. For her undergraduate degree, she took up BS Biology from the University of the Philippines Manila. She has a diverse set of academic interests including community mental health, interculturally-competent care for refugees and migrants, and botany. When not studying, she pursues her passion for film by joining workshops and watching movies. Sometimes, she also bakes when stressed out. Pat is also an In Touch Mental Health Volunteer. Her ultimate dream is to become a clinical psychologist.
Feature Photo by Pavel Danilyuk
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When I heard the news, the first words I uttered to my ate were: “Kay nano?” — Waray words that meant “Why?”. Absolutely nothing made sense at that moment. As far as I knew, Mama was healthy. She was supposed to live a long life, long enough so that she could see us be successful, long enough so I could make my promise of building her a beautiful house a reality. I never expected to lose her so early.
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