In Memory of My Mom

She was a good woman.

My mom, Leticia Angara Moises, was a good mother, too. She took care of me during my most vulnerable time, when I was still a tender child. She helped me grow when I was a toddler who knew little about the world in which I lived in. She assisted my dad in providing me a comfortable place to live and the education I needed for the future. And she protected me from people who attacked my very being.

It was a good relationship I had with my mom. But as we journeyed through life, we encountered some real problems. Differences between the two of us emerged, and these were a constant source of disagreements. Sometimes, the disagreements were strong; sometimes, they were really bad. It must have been quite difficult for her to see her son drifting away from her; it must have been terrible for her as much as it was difficult for me.

She was a strong woman, though. As she was coping with my changing lifestyle and values as well as the changing lifestyles and values of her 7 other children, she and my dad were able to keep the family intact. She was able to continue working, becoming a regional director and an undersecretary of one of the main departments of the Philippine government. When she retired, she became a born-again pastor and founded a church in Central Luzon, and the church she founded continued to expand.

Meanwhile, I was having an extremely difficult time. However, I was not angry, envious or bitter that she accomplished those things. That was not (and is not) my trademark since childhood.

Somehow, my mom and I were able to make peace with each other later in life. During this time, we had more things that we agreed about than things that we disagreed about. Of course, there was some degree of uneasiness in our restored relationship but, together, we were OK for the most part. Humanly speaking, it was an acceptable and good relationship. However, it seemed that God was not satisfied with our newly-restored relationship. So He gave my mother the opportunity to show me once more that she was a good mother who was willing to defend me, and God gave me the privilege of prolonging the life of my mom three times for a few more years and to truly help an old woman, an elderly during her most vulnerable time. For the opportunity He gave to my mom and for the privilege He gave to me, I am forever grateful to God.

My mom is with Jesus now. She is a woman of God.

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