Finding Mom

2004. The soft roaring sound of the AC unit echoed the beating of my heart.

Slowly, I ran my fingers on the edge of the calling card, feeling the uneven cut I made with a pair of not-so-sharp scissors. The card bore my name and contact details, with a black and white picture carefully laid out on the right side of the card.

I was still in college. Though I worked part time doing pharmaceutical researches, my unseasoned services hardly warranted a calling card to be given to prospective clients. No, the card wasn’t made for that purpose.

Punctuating the moment with a final resolved sigh, I immediately placed the card in a thin white airmail envelope before I could even change my mind. There it sat alone, no letter, no salutations, and no instructions nor explanations as to what the card was for… just the silent implied message the small card carried with itself and the hope that whoever saw the card, would know what to do next. With that, I sealed it with a quick swish of my tongue across the sticky flap of the envelope.

With sure strokes of my hand, I carefully wrote the address I found in an old mail, hoping that the same capiz-windowed house still be there, waiting for my little messenger.

And as I slid the almost empty envelope in the post box, I said a silent prayer and wished it luck in its quiet sojourn. Faith, I guess, was all I could carry as I hoped that my little warrior would come back to me with flags of victory.

Time passed by as fast as one can say yes to Cebu’s lechon… and Abe’s crispy pata, my lola’s caldereta, my tita’s adobo, and uhhmmm… (sorry I got carried away).

Wait. That was all I could do till I almost forgot all about it.

Until that day when I received an almost unexpected call.

“# calling…” Prolly an international number.

“May I speak with Mr. Jeffrey G__?” the voice said.

That voice. Familiar voice. A voice that I haven’t heard for practically thirteen years.

Mom.

If hearts could really skip a beat, mine did that instant. And maybe a cartwheel.

The conversation continued on with awkward how are you’s and a lot of dead air. But the momentary silence was welcomed. It was like we were trying to feel each other’s presence on the other line. Hearing each other breath. Imagining what the other must’ve looked like. Would each look the same after thirteen years? (well, I grew a tad taller though, haha).

“Take care, I love you” My mom finally bid me good bye.

“bye mom, I love you too,” I replied before pushing the “end call” button.

I was sitting on the floor in the laboratory corridor. And I find my tears dropping one by one making small wet circles on my laboratory gown.

I slowly got up, and with the cool breeze flowing from the far end’s fire exit, I walk wistfully, letting my lab gown flow with the air as I enter the classroom.

And as I slowly slid into my stool chair, my lips unconsciously curled up to form a small satisfied smile.

My little warrior returned triumphant.

I have finally found Mom.

And she has found me.

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Happy Birthday Mom!

Love yah!

10-Feb-09