My Mother

I had been thinking about my mother the past week. It's sometimes like this when the 14th day of a month draws near. I miss her terribly.

I could see her face smiling up at me. I could see the courage in her eyes as she braved her illness. She seldom complained and when she did, the pain or discomfort she felt must have been unbearable because I knew she had a high tolerance for pain.

I read a friend's comment about comprehending the reason why ill fortune befalls us. Tears fell from my eyes as I could fully understand the question and the need for an answer. I had asked myself that question many times during my mother's illness and during the difficulties I had encountered in the course of taking care of her.

I had the answer once when I asked about a surgery she had to undergo. I was greatly dissatisfied with the answer I got.

Later, situation after situation made me asked the inevitable why again. I never did get any answer anymore. However, I do not mean to say that things were always bleak. There were happy times and times when sufferings breezed through for my mother because we carried them for her.

Yes, we can question why but we do not always get the answer. Even when we do, it may not be the answer that we want. We can only leave all the whys to hang on the wall for us to reflect on later in life.