Personal Stories

My Boy, My Savior

This is one of my unforgettable experiences with my boy. It happened when he was five-when I thought that his attention was just focused on his toys and other kiddie stuffs but I was wrong.

One night, when I got home from work, a very surprising question from my son,  Jyro, confronted me. “Doesn't daddy love you anymore?” I didn't understand where that question came from; nevertheless, I answered him with bewilderement and kindess. I told him than that mommy and daddy have misunderstanding sometimes but it doesn’t mean that we don’t love each other. The question was not really the thing that bothered me so much but the conversation that followed. I asked him what gave him an idea about daddy falling out of love of mommy. He turned around picked up his spiderman toy and said, “My friend.” “Who’s your friend?” I asked with amazement. His answer surprised me even more. He claimed that he has an invisible friend whose name is also Jyro and who whispers things to his ears. I was alarmed with his story but I tried to convince myself that Jyro is just one imaginative, five year old boy. However, no matter how I tried to ignore what he said about having a “friend,” I was really disturbed (having watched so many psychological/suspense movies with this theme, I became paranoid about my son’s condition).

 Before we went to bed that night, I asked him again about his friend, hoping that he would tell me he was just kidding. But he insisted that he has a friend whose name is also “Jyro.” I concluded that his imaginary friend was his alter ego that's why I became more careful in handling the issue. During our conversation, I gradually discovered more things about my son and that really broke my heart as a mother. He said, “you know mommy, my friend has no mother.” I looked at him pitifully and with a feeling of guilt and asked him, “why? Where is your friend’s mommy”. “My friend told me that his mommy is always busy in her work and she goes home late.” With those words, I felt as though I was stabbed in the heart. That was the most painful thing I heard from my son. I was dumbfounded trying to grasp something to say. I knew he was referring to me. I nearly cried because of guilt but I tried to gain back my composure. After some moments of silence, I told him, “then tell your friend I can be his mom, I’m just here if he needs a mother.” He answered, “I’ll try to talk him if he likes.” Our conversation went on assuring him that even if I am working, I still care and love him and his sisters. I took that opportunity to explain why mommy has to leave the house early and goes home late in the afternoon. Perhaps, it's really one thing that I failed to do--maintaining constant communication with my kids. I thought my hugs and kisses while I'm at home are enough for them to feel my presence in thier life.

As I was staring at Jyro in his sleep that night, a lot of realizations and questions rushed to my mind. All the while I thought, I was doing a good job as a working mother. I thought all the while that I was very keen in observing time management so I can attend fairly to my work and to family. I was trying to assess which part of my “work and family schedule” failed—questions like “What should I do to be a responsible wife, mother, and a worker at the same time?” I could not figure it out. Nevertheless, one thing is clear to me now—that somewhere along the way, I might have neglected some needs of my children.

After that heartbreaking moment with my son, my husband and I spent that weekend hugging and playing with our three kids. It was then when I found the answer to my question. Yes, I stopped playing with my kids for quite a long time. I can no longer remember the last time I played with them Hide and Seek and “Bahay-bahayan,” the last time I read to them bed time stories, the last time we sung and did some art works together. I think it was I who suddenly felt nostalgic about our usual weekend activities. While it is true that I am at home every night and during weekends, I still spend these times with unfinished office works.  I, then, understood what my son meant when he said he (through his imaginary friend) has no mommy. It’s not my mere presence that he needs but my attention and affection. Thank you to my son’s imaginary friend because I was able to hear my son’s sentiments and I know it’s not yet late for me to make up for my shortcomings to him and to his sisters.

At the moment, I opted to lessen my teaching load so as to spend more time with my kids. I know that this opportunity comes once in a lifetime that's why I want to grab it while I can. One thing that convinced me to do this is the thought that I might spend my old age regretting over the times when I didn't enjoy the childhood days of my children.