Into the Shoes of a Heroic Wife and Mother

Mamita! That’s what my niece loves to call me. It’s actually a merged term of mommy and tita (Tagalog term for auntie). Well, I can still hark back to the series of events how I ended up having that given name.
I am the third child in the family. My eldest brother, Joamir married early at the age of 18. She brought Lilibeth, her wife-to-be at our home when she was more than a few months pregnant. She was really a fun person, always cheerful behind those fagging points of her life. I was fond of observing her because of her out-of-this-world exquisiteness supplemented upon by her strong personality yet, feminine in almost all ways. She likes to lend a helping hand to every needy person. She would even sacrifice all her time and strength to bring about happiness to the deprived. In my thoughts, I branded her as the local Princess Diana She was still pursuing her studies that time. I was amazed even more when I found out she graduated as Cum laude even by the fact that, at often times, she’s being infuriated by my brother’s moodiness and tremendous temper and at the same time the stress brought upon by pregnancy. But beyond all that, she endured his attitude and tied vows with him. They wedded in church by the 8th day of November, year 1997.
By the same year of December 29th, She finally gave birth to her first child. She became a young mother by the age of 19. Her bundle of joy was named Christian Jeremy. After some months, she was hired as a bookkeeper at an insurance company. My brother also found a job as a disk jockey at a local radio station but resigned early because of some “issues” about time, girls and drugs. So either my mom or I was looking after the baby if she was still at work. By the 5th day of May, year 1999, she was in labor again for her second baby. He was named Carl Joseph. Because of my fondness for babies, it became a habit for me to take care of her broods if there’s no available nanny or if she’s snowed under by her work.
After a year, an unexpected tragedy had transpired. She had a miscarriage. The cause may have been due to the arduous nature of her job and at the same time after work, she still has responsibilities for her husband and two boys. Because my brother married at an early age, he was having a hard time coping up with the responsibilities of being a father and a husband. They were always engaged in arguments or fights. She may freak out sometimes but normally, she humbles herself to him. The root of their fight was always my brother’s fault. One instance, when he went back to being a disk jockey, he was totally into drugs. He rarely went home and at the final point, he ran away. Every now and then when it happens, I was with her. One time, when we found out that he took all his belongings and bunked again, we got a line that he’s hooked up with drugs again so, with desperate measures, we flee with his son and went looking for him. We sacrificed our safety including the child’s protection for the purpose of his search. It was almost midnight when we started searching the streets and finally, we found him at a very minute, topsy-turvy room of a cheap lodge. Aside from the scary look of the place, we were shocked to see my brother not in his normal state. He looked pale and clammy. He was afoot and striding in a sluggish and crooked manner. He spoke of no order and his eyes were a bit droopy. So upon seeing him, with no hesitations, we hauled him home. It still occurred quite a few times.
By July 28, 2001, she was in labor again for her 3rd child but without the presence of my brother in the hospital. But still, she gained control of her emotions leaving no trace of grief on her face. She named her first baby girl Denisse Lyndt. My brother was employed once more as a disk jockey and went back on taking drugs again. This time, it was so extreme that he became so skinny and dry. He became distorted. He developed irritation with her and that’s when he started becoming so violent. Their children were always witnesses to these horrifying happenings. But she didn’t let these things ruined her responsibilities to her children and disturbed husband. She’s still at task with her job but still, gave as much time to her kids and attention to her hubby. When she’s in need for somebody to converse with, she constantly comes to me and pours out her angst. I was even more impressed by her heroic deeds. Even by the fact that my brother was so indistinct, she’s always finding ways to contact his teachers and use her amiable character to negotiate with them about giving him another chance to pursue his disrupted schooling. My brother would temporarily attend classes and would eventually stop. This happened a couple of times but she never gave up, hoping that one day he would finally finished his studies and would be the breadwinner of their family.
The greatest tribulation that occurred to her was the time he had been hooked up with all the vices. That time, he was at all times, at the radio station, and only went home to bath and change clothes. He had a sexual relationship with a hooker and if not drunk, high in drugs. My sister-in-law would go to the station and would try to fetch him up but unluckily, goes home empty-handed. She was even more supportive to her children like being present in all their activities in school even, without the attendance of their father. She even still had time playing jokes or telling funny stories to us. I haven’t felt any sympathy for her; instead, I revered her even more. She’s trying to mask all her anguish and depression but sometimes I could still notice it in her eyes. She would sometimes wake up with bulging or with dark circles around her eyes, which is an indication of deprivation of sleep and deep melancholy. She had these deep and intact feelings for my brother, that she hid these to her mom and sisters. But it still came out. They charged through the place where he was working and they were so shocked by the scene. It was finally confirmed that he had an affair with another woman. So, that was the beginning of an end in their grueling marriage. They separated. But it never hindered her from being a good mom. We became even closer that time. I never imagined myself being in her shoes and enduring all those laborious sufferings. I even looked at myself so stressed just by merely taking care of her kids. What could be worst than being a single mom with having experienced a bad relationship and leaving her pregnant? That point in time, she told me that I’d be the one to financially support Denisse. Because of deep mental distress, she had a miscarriage once more. With that I promised myself I would help her even more. My brother, maybe because of shame or was too much involved in drugs, he never went home. We heard that he went away and became an accomplice of a drug pusher. He became a scrounger and finally, became nothing more than an empty-handed, dirty beggar. With desperation and deep starvation, he sought help from our cousin. She was shocked to see him so deprived of everything when before he was given everything he wanted to have. With the help of our cousin’s Christian friend, he was sent to a rehabilitation center.
On the other side of the world, Lilibeth was still trying to come out of the ashes. She heard the news and was so deeply exultant with this. She then planned to visit him with their kids. They had continuous communication and he even began showing his feelings to her. Their love bloomed once more. Then one day, they went to see him at the rehabilitation center. But, because of the eagerness of my brother to go home with her, he didn’t finish the 6-month rehabilitation course and finally, went home. He was completely a changed person. He was physically and mentally altered and was even spiritually involved. He was even more emotionally connected with her and the kids. He pursued his studies and graduated finally. Everything was different, they had a happy relationship, he was now a responsible father and he even started going to church. But, it was all a temporary experience. It was like waking up with full-length smile you would notice on her and then the next minute, tears splashing down her face. It was like piercing me in the heart, all the more when I often see Christian, their first child, alone in the dark, sniffing and you would ask him why he is crying and he would only answer, when will dad be coming home again? Imagine a 4-year old child becoming aware of what was happening to their family. But she would always fill up the emotional spaces of her children not being shared upon by their dad. The sudden transition of my brother from a responsible, loving father and husband to a grotesque human being became the source of their frequent fights again. He would smash and wreck everything in his sight if he is in deep rage. I even developed trauma over shouts and fights that time. We even tried quietly, getting the children out of the violent scene. We can even hear her shriek and the breakage of things when they’re having a fight. One time, while we were watching T.V., he punched the window so hard that it broke up into pieces giving a loud, crashing sound. It served not just a trauma to us but to his children and wife. Women or drugs would always be the main cause of this. But she still loved him even more and sometimes would even forget what had happened the day before. She provided him with lots of material things just to please him but still, is ineffective. The fights still went on for months.
By the year 2005, I went into depression from breaking up with my long-time boyfriend. She was the one who gave me a lift in my spirit. So, I stood up once again and I followed her advice. I went away for months to look for a job. I was unsuccessful with finding a job because I had been admitted in the hospital. She never failed to uplift my broken soul just by merely calling me on my cellphone. We always break up into tears every time we conversed on my mobile phone. When I went home, she gave me the biggest bear hug ever and I was so pleased by that. I went away again but before I did, she told me for the very last time that I really have to find a job because I would take care and support her 3rd child, Denisse. A few days later, she was in labor again but this time, it’s different. She grasped her last breath delivering her last child. We all experienced a deep shock for weeks. The cause of her death was a ruptured uterus due to several miscarriages she had. The baby was named Daniel Fatima because she was delivered on Our Lady of Fatima’s day. My brother experienced depression for days and blamed himself for what had happened. Days after her death was my birthday. She was first one who greeted me by appearing in my dream. She hugged and kissed me for the last time while, there was an unearthly smile on her face. While tears flowing down my cheeks, she told me, I wouldn’t be able to be with you because I’m about to leave. I woke up and I realized tears were spattering down my face. She still kept on appearing in our dreams telling us about her plans for her children and his husband.
Now, I’m a full-time Mamita taking care of her children. My brother realized his faults and finally, became the breadwinner of their family. Her children, on the other hand, excel in school. But before she left, she finished the given tasks in her office; she finished paying the educational plans of her children, and taught us the life of being a heroic mother and wife at the same time.