I was born in the Philippines to a Filipino mother and a Jewish American father. I find myself reaching back to those roots now as I craft my novel for my MFA thesis.
Before my mother lost her battle with metastatic breast cancer, we spent a lot of time watching different Filipino soap operas. We got pretty engrossed in one particular story about two girls switched at birth. My mother was living with me at the time as I handled her home hospice care. She missed the Philippines desperately and watching those programs transported her there and away from her pain.
I keep thinking about my mother as I work on my novel about a little mestisa girl that has to face some terrible circumstances.
My mother never had more than a fourth-grade education, but she was a wonderful storyteller.
My children were quite young when she died. They hardly remember her rich accent that hung like tangy adobo in the air. The way her smile was backlit from within—a true supernova happening inside her.
Cancer tried its best to dim her light. I find myself trying to share some part of her with the world, writing down bits of memory mixed with imagination. I have a feeling every novel I ever write will hold some essence of my mother because energy is never truly destroyed.
But also, there is the life I have formed since we moved to America when I was ten. I met my husband in high school and married him when I was nineteen. We have two amazing children.
Once upon a time, we had a dog named Arthur. There's another novel that I'll soon be
sharing.
We rescued Arthur shortly after my mother died. He gave my love, loose and free-floating and aimless, a place to burrow. His rough tongue licked away endless tears of grief. During the pandemic, he would also be claimed by cancer. This is how so many stories are born, rising like mythic beasts from the ashes of searing loss.
During the pandemic, I did two things. I got two new puppies, and I started my journey toward an MFA with SNHU.
If there was a lesson in this pandemic, it was: Life is short, and I have stories to tell.
So, despite a full schedule of being a wife, kid-mom, dog-mom, and caregiver to my aging father, I elected to enroll in graduate school. I've always had these stories leaking out through my fingertips that I haven't been brave enough to release into the wild. School has given me a place to practice courage while I hone my craft.
I'm eager to be sharing these stories soon. After all, I have loved ones to immortalize.
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