One morning, a little before lunchtime, when I was about 5 years old... my mother bought a basketball jersey for me and my brother. Both of us are considered "bunso" of the family so whatever my brother get...I got to have one, too. We were so excited about it that we wore it as soon as it reached our hands. I even imagine myself as one of those basketball players I've seen on T.V. I was so happy.
My brother get to have the blue jersey and I get to have the orange one. That was my first jersey. I always smile whenever I remember that moment.
After lunch we all prepare ourselves for siesta. One of my sisters (who used to be the youngest girl in the family when I wasn't born yet) and my brother decided to play a little more and went to the upper deck of our bed. I stayed on the lower bunk and continue to imagine myself as one of those basketball stars.
I suddenly noticed a small string on my jersey and asked myself why is it there. I decided to pull it, never thought about the outcome of doing that. As I pulled and pulled...that attched part of my jersey became unattached! And then I thought about my mother. "She bought this one for me!" I said in my mind. And there it goes, I cried really hard! I thought my mother would become really sad about it because her gift for me was ruined and it's all because of my curiosity. I thought about her smile when she gave this jersey for us and that she was so happy seeing us so excited about it. But then I just ruined it. I don't want to hurt my mother. I never wanted to hurt my mother's feelings.
My sister and brother were alarmed to hear me crying so they went down the lower bunk to check me out. I forgot whether my brother laughed at me or my sister comforted me. I even forgot if my mother tried to fix my jersey for my happiness. All I could remember is that how my mother comforted me after she found out about what happened to my precious orange basketball jersey. She never scolded me about it. She just hugged me and told me "It's okay". Now I forgot wether she told me she would buy another one or not but if she did... well it never happened.
From that moment on, young as I was back then, I realized how I don't wan't to hurt my mother's feelings. There maybe instances that I don't get to keep up with that thought,
specially in my teenage years...because of immaturity, but now I am still trying hard to make that happen.
I remember how she always thought about which is better for me first before thinking about which is better for her. She was always worried about me from the very beginning. Accompanied me in the hospital every year because I always get sick every year. Stood up for my right, fought for me. Helped me with my projects and paperworks. My mother looked tough and many people thought she's so "masungit", but deep inside she really is very sensitive. She's always there for me. Up to now.
I love my mother so much. I may have my own ways to show her how I appreciate her that much but I still think it's not enough. Good thing she understood. Good thing she's a mother. She's my mother.
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