• Jasmine Mendiola

New Year Prayer


Dear God,

Grant us enough time that we may be able to accomplish everything that you have tasked us to do. Like working so we have money to fund Mio’s chemo; time to squeeze that in between his rigorous chemo schedule; time to rest to brave the next day; time to continue being grateful; time to acknowledge that our problems are good problems; time to stop and think of….

How precious Mio’s cross is. Really, Mio’s turning six in April and I can’t imagine how we can celebrate his birthday without recognizing how wondrous it is that if falls two days after Easter. How do we send a message that the beauty of Mio’s existence is just as great as the meaning of Easter, of new life. A life that is renewed everyday. Most friends when asked how they’re kids are would answer they’re makulit, or how they’ve been doing in school… I have to answer each and everytime that he’s getting better. Everyday. My son is better than the day before. Like his disease is staple and he just has to get better. When you think about it, all kids are getting better everyday. Sometimes, the normal ones most parents have tend to look like they’re getting worse as they grow older but really. ALL kids get better everyday. Not just Mio.

Grant me too the strength to be patient. Grant this too upon my parents, those who day in and day out share the burden of raising Mio. In their old age, grant them the wisdom of grandparents to continue finding the joy in their apo. Sometimes during Mio’s chemo he’d be too demanding and would shout out of impatience himself. My Mom almost cried and prayed for the same virtue.

Grant me the willingness to believe that Mio will continue his healing with flying colors. His hair is as resilient as his soul and his doctor and the doctor’s secretary joke about it. But everyday that his hair is intact–thick, sweaty and trickling at the back of his neck–I find comfort that he has no reason to be scared. 

I pray again for enough time. Enough time to spend with my son. So that when that time comes, that his hair will fall, or when his tummy hurts and his chest tightens, I will hear him complain instead of having to ask and be called “annoying” by my son for asking the same questions over the phone–grant me enough time so that I can be there and comfort him when the time comes that he will be scared when his hair falls.

If I can ask for more, maybe you can just save him his hair. He’s more handsome with it anyway.


Mio bald on his first year. Bagay ba?

I asked his doctor when he can go back to school because his math tutoring supplement is getting harder, he said. What can you expect, its supposed to be a supplement rather than his sole source of learning but often these days, I couldn’t find the time to teach him. The doctor said that June might be a good time, what with Mio’s fast recovery and positive response to the aggressive medicines. I am ellated at the thought that my son can go to school again, I don’t even mind if he’d have to endure his classmates constantly asking him if he’s sick because he has to wear a mask. Like when this little girl asked if he was sick, he bravely answered, “I have leukemia.” Brave or annoyed because the girl was bothering him from his busy playtime.


I pray that my son will always be sweet and find the joy in his life. He calls in busy and cries when his Cheetos are all eaten up. He draws me hearts and sad faces because of the many days I am out and at work. He asked me one idle afternoon, “Mom, when you were small, did you want to be a Makeup Artist or a Mommy?”

I said, “I wanted to be an artist so I studied well and I am one now. But no one gets to choose being a Mommy. Being a Mommy is a blessing, Anak.” I said, as if it was the wisest and wittiest thing I ever said. “What? How is that Mom?”

“Because God’s angels choose their Mommies when its time for them to go to earth and bless people. Like you chose Mom!” “Am I an angel, Mom?”

Dear Lord, I know you yourself would answer, YES. So please hear this Mommy’s prayer.


AMEN.

PS. Please keep me safe as I ride a plane out of town for another shoot while my son goes through chemo simultaneously. Keep me alive so I can come home to him safely. Thanks God!


PPS. Paki-lift narin po ang sandamakmak na trabaho since these are what needs to be done so I can help myself answer my own prayers.

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Jasmine Mendiola

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