Yesterday, the mom of my ex died, few days before she would turn 87. And that's the thing about the present culture we are in when separation and divorce is a part of it. Your past will still affect your present. In terms of death, I mean.
I left that life with her six years ago. I could say my one year of being married was lived with her because her son did not want to have anything to do with me after the wedding. (I might write about it next time.) Although we still continued to be in contact after I left, I never expected yesterday would come. That I would be contacted by their other family members to inform me of the death. At first I was shocked. It was only two months ago that we talked over the phone. When the reality finally sank in, I felt relieved. Hers is one of the few deaths of people I know that I could say it's not a waste. It's time for her to go. She lived a full life. She loved us all deeply and loved God that even her last few breaths were spent singing praise songs.
I was told that a few days before her death, she longed to talk to me through a video call. She wanted to see me. However, she did not do it because she did not want to anger her son. Sad. So sad. Even in her last moments she gave in. But blame is not in order for her from me. It was her choice. I just wish hers was a peaceful passing.
I remember her kindness to me, and my eyes well up with tears--the nights we spent together crying as she was there when I was still trying to understand the predicament I was in, how she prayed for me and with me, how she would always keep the best portion of food or fruits for me before others could get some, how she nursed me back to health when my health was compromised because of depression. She was the best mother-in-law that I only had for a while, and although what happened to me was worst, I never regretted having known her. Maybe she was trying her best to make up for what her son did, but she was just herself. She loved me like her own.
One night when she saw me crying she came to me and said, "I want to see you happy. Not like this. Leave this place. Move on." That was barely two months after I was married. At that time, I did not understand how she could say that. Maybe a month of seeing me lose weight because of depression and crying my self to sleep was too much for her to bear. I stayed for another year. She was with me. Then one day when I finally decided to move on after trying my best and failed to save my marriage, I came to see her and told her that I am moving on, with no plans of looking back. She hugged me. She understood.
And so I moved on and found myself a man who celebrates me. She called me and congratulated me after I gave birth. She rejoiced with me. For all that she was, I will always remember the kind of mother she was and how she became a true mother to me at my lowest.
