Seven is a Good Number to Remember

mariel-on-the-grass

Dearest Mommy,

In Math, the number seven is called a happy prime. It is one of those numbers that is both ‘happy and prime.’

To others, seven it seems has come to represent completion. There are many examples of this even from our Bible. Some even refer to it as the number of perfection.

And these thoughts are why the promise of today’s anniversary sounds a bit dissonant to me now. For I still find myself nowhere happy, nor near completing many of the things I know you would want me to do.

I however want you to know that I really am trying hard and somewhat already on my way. It is the least I can do to honor your love and everything you stood for. Most of which is about making sure that Sam grows up to be the best she can be. I’d be happy for her to be just even half of the beautiful person you were, you are. And I never tire about reminding the world about this.

By the time you may be reading this, which I guess in heavenly terms would probably be a blink away, I would have finally found the courage to pack away your things I have left untouched at our Mandaluyong home since the fateful day. I’ve avoided doing it or visiting our once lovely home often because they will make me sad. But grief I guess truly is the price of love. I take some pride however today in being able to start ‘donating’ your things to those who may need them more, as you always like to do before. (I may even ask Mang Tom, our neighbour, if he could help ‘rescue’ some of them. Our street in Sto. Nino has never been the same since you left.)

I would however keep a few mementoes for myself.  To simply remember, like your favourite pajamas, perfume and Jeffrey Archer pocketbook.

The years have not been too kind to me. But it seems that remembering is one of those I am still good at, especially when it’s about you.

Like, I have not forgotten your love for Gershwin, or those magnificent castles in France. On reading up on Shakespeare or watching the Lifestyle Channel on TV. With catching up on Efren Bata Reyes even when I know that you never once held a pool cue in your life. On snuggling happily in bed on those cold rainy nights. And collecting things that come in purple, or hunting new DVDs. In eyeing new bags and shoes, and designing that next Christmas tree. And talking about your dreams for Sam, and our growing old together. Watching waves, sharing jokes, eating out, reading a book, talcum on your feet, Estee Lauder, and Dendrobiums, I can go on and on and on, because they keep me wishing and hoping. For that day, we could just continue from where we last left off. I know that day will come.

I miss you terribly Mommy, especially now. I am not sure I will ever be good at this moving on thing. But I try, I will keep trying. Because I know this will make you happy.

Thank you for loving me. Thank you for giving me Sam. Thank you for the life and love you shared. You are forever special. You will forever be in our hearts.

Seven is a good number to remember. We love you always Mommy.

Forever yours,

Bong