I,a Mother (a work of fiction)

I checked myself in the mirror. I smiled at my reflection. I looked good tonight, I know. And it’s just right. It’s my night after all.

I dabbed cold cream on my face. Time to clean out the make-up.

Thirty years, Time flew by so fast. I still remember thinking about throwing this party when I turned 28. A real coming out party. That’s what I told myself. The one I had when I turned 18 wasn’t really mine. I was supposed to be an adult then. But I remained a naive girl for a while after.

I wiped the cream off my face and applied eye make-up remover. I stared at the mirror. No wrinkles yes. At least nothing to worry about yet. But it never hurts to start taking care of yourself. I’m not anymore. Tonight’s party is the proof of that. Gee, thirty years old, indeed.

It was a small party. I invited my friends. My real friends. None of those flash-in-the-pan-fair-weather-just-for-the-good-times kind. There weren’t a lot of them. But they made up for quality what they lacked in quantity.

I splashed water on my face, rinsing out any residue left. After dabbing it dry, I applied moisturizer.

“Had a good time tonight?,” a voice asked.

“Why yes! It was really great! Good friends, good food, good time. I sure did have a great time tonight.”

I stopped. Was that a male voice I heard? I’m so used to talking to myself aloud I do not really make too much of it. But I usually have a female voice. I looked at the mirror and that’s when I saw him.

I turned to see a nice-looking guy sitting at the edge of my tub. Nice-looking guy? Who was I kidding?! The man was plain gorgeous!

He flashed me a totally bright smile. “Hi!”

“Hi, yourself! Who are you and what are you doing in my bathroom?”

He chuckled. He was right. He’d said you’d be quaking at your feet will still manage to be sassy.”

My eyebrows shot high. “Sassy?! Me?! Sassy?! Who said that?! And who is this he you’re talking about?!”

The gorgeous man stood up to his full height. And though my alarm bells were clanging in my head, there is no way to not notice how gorgeous he really was. Magnificent, I tell you.

“Calm down.”, he said soothingly. He put an arm on my shoulder, ushering me to my bedroom. “Maybe we should get a little more comfortable before we start this conversation in earnest. This is going to be a long night for you.”

I turned to him, took a step backwards and held my hands high. “Whoa! Comfortable? Wait a minute! Despite what people might have told you about me, I don’t get comfortable on a first date! And this isn’t even a date!”

“Easy. Easy. No need to get defensive on me.”

Managing to be a little apologetic, “Sorry.”

He started to walk farther into my bedroom. I fell in step with him. You must think I’m mental for not being more suspicious, not being more on guard. But there is something about him that makes me feel safe. Somehow.

“You know he did tell me you’d be defensive, strike if you have to. But he said that’s what he likes about you. You’re a toughie but inside you’re a softie.”

“Now I feel like a Menthos. Before is repeat myself for a third time, maybe you ought to start explaining. I am quaking at my feet, as you say. I just haven’t run and gotten a knife since you seem too nice to strangle me in my own bedroom.”

He stopped walking. “Okay, I’ll do that. One tiny favour, though. Do you think we can do this over a bowl of newly-popped popcorn? Please?” He looked at me beseechingly, a sheepish smile on his face, making even more beautiful.

“Who can resist you when you go puppy eyes like that?,” I chuckled. “Besides, I love popcorn. Come follow me.”

I started for the kitchen.

He sat on my barstool while I set about fixing us a bowl of popcorn. “This will just take a couple of minutes. Why don’t you start?”

“Okay.” He paused and hesitated a bit. Uncertainty marred his beautiful features for a milli-second. Then he smiled. “Okay.,” he said again this time with more conviction in his voice. “Uhm, I assume you know the story of the Virgin Mary.”

I went to a cabinet to get a bowl for the popcorn. “Uhuh.”

I walked back to where the bowl is, bringing the bowl. “Well, it’s a little like that.”

“Uhuh.”

“What I mean to say is, you’re the new her.”

TING! The popcorn’s done.

I opened the door of the microwave oven and retrieved the steamy bag. “Uhuh.”

I went still for a second. “What?!”

I whirled around “What?!”My voice going several octaves higher. “What do you mean the new her?”

“You know, the new Virgin Mary.,” he smiled. “Well not exactly.”

“Darn right, not exactly! Are you crazy?! Was there a revolution in heaven?! Has Satan taken over or something?!

My eyes were big, staring at him incredulously, my limbs frozen. My finger tightly clutching the popcorn bag.

He stood up, held me by the shoulders and led me to the barstools by the kitchen counter.

“No need to swear. No, I’m definitely not crazy. There was no revolution in Heaven. And Satan will definitely never take over.”

He sat me on one of the barstools. And took the next one.

“Shocked you, didn’t I?” He smiled gleefully.

“Shock?! Try trauma.”

“Now let’s not be melodramatic.”

“I’m not being melodramatic. If I was, I’d have feigned faint and dropped to the floor.”

“Now that’s funny.” He reached for the popcorn bag. “Here, let me take care of this while you try to breathe normally again.”

He got the bowl I was holding earlier, opened the bag and poured the contents. He put one in his mouth. And with eyes closed, he said, “Mmmm... Heavenly!”

That caught my attention. “You mean heaven taste like popcorn?”

He opened his eyes and looked at me. “Well, yes.”

I smiled. “That’s a nice thought.”

“Well, actually, it tastes like how you want it to taste. Heaven is everything you want it to be, everything that makes you smile and laugh. “

“I’m really happy to know that. Comforted.”

“I’m glad.” He put the bowl on the bar and said, “You want some iced tea?”

“Yes, please.”

He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher.

I should be helping him. It’s my house after all. But I just couldn’t move. I sat watching him.

He sat down and served us two tall glasses of iced tea.

I gave a sigh and said, “To business then.”

He grabbed a handful of the popcorn and popped a couple into his mouth. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

“Everything. For starters, why me?”

“And why not you?”

“Well, I’m no virgin.” I stopped. “But I bet you know that.”

He sported a really naughty smile. “Yes, I do.”

I gave a small laugh and slapped him lightly on the arm. “Oh, stop. You’re making me blush.”

“If you saw what I saw, you really would.” He said teasingly.

“Oh, hush! Aren’t we discussing something serious here?”, I asked pointedly.

“Yes, we are.” He sobered at that.

“I’ve done some really stupid things in my life.”, I said by way of apology.

“Yes, you have. And you will probably do more in the future. But you recover from them, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’d like to think so. But let me tell you, I can be really, really crazy sometimes.”

"I know. I know you talk to yourself and dance naked in your room. There’s no sin in that. Personally, I like it.”

“Thank you. That you feel that way. That you understand. Some people think I’m weird.”

“You are.”, he said seriously.

That startled me. I was expecting him to say no. Our eyes met and I burst laughing. “I like you.”, I said.

“I sure hope so. I’ve been talking to you for almost an hour now and you haven’t even asked me my name since my surprise appearance.”

“I did ask you. You just chose to ignore me.”

“True. Why not ask me now?”

I looked him in the eye. “Because I think I already know who you are.”

“Mmm?” He waited for me to go on.

“Well, if I follow you correctly, and if my sanity has completely taken leave of me, you can only be Gabriel.”

“You’re still very sane, Galadriel. And I’m pleased you still remember your catechism.”

“Only my mother calls me by my full name. And it’s actually the Marian songs that I remember. Here’s one.” I sang, “The angel Gabriel announced to Mary, she would be God’s Mother, you see. “ I stopped. I sobered. I looked at him.

“This is for real, isn’t it?”

He nodded understandingly. “Yes, it is.”

I suddenly felt weak. Good thing I was sitting down. Images flashed in my mind. Mostly what Mary had gone through. How on earth will I manage?!

Gabriel patted my arm. “There, there. Things will work out just fine, you know. I take it you’ll take on the job?”

“Wha-What?!” I stared at him.

“I said, I take it you’ll take on the job?”

“And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“You were asking yourself if you’ll manage.”

I scowled at him. “Quit reading my mind!”

“Sorry, can’t help it. Comes with the territory.”

“Well, help it!”, I snapped.

“I’ll try.”, he said looking totally repentant.

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s all just so... so...”

“Overwhelming? Awesome? Staggering? Frightening? Agitating?”, he said helpfully.

“Can I say all of the above?”

“Of course.”

I fell silent.

I’m going to be pregnant. I’m going to be a mother. I’m going to have a little boy. Yikes!

“Now, can I assume you’re in?”

“You’re reading my mind again.”

“Sorry. Again.”

“It’s okay, I guess. I mean about you reading my mind. I guess you really just can’t help it.”

“So, you’re in?

“What do you mean, ‘you’re in’? You mean I can say ‘no’?”

“Of course. Free will, remember?”

“Wow!” I loudly whispered.

“Yes, wow!”

“Okay, tell me everything.” I held up my hands. “But wait. Do you mind if we order some pizza first? I really need pizza right now. I’ll settle for 30 minutes from now.”

“I’d love some pizza.”

I stood up and went back to my room. I called and ordered.

I walked back to the bar stools and sat. “Okay.”

He grinned. “This is turning out to be a gastronomic treat for me.”

“Sorry, I’m doing some emotional eating.”

Silence.

“Anyway, while we’re waiting, maybe you can start with the basics?”

“Okay, let’s see. “ He thought for a moment.

Suddenly, I felt unsure. Do I really want to hear this? Do I really want to know?
Can we stop right now?

“Well, you already know what’s going to happen. He’s coming and He chose you.”

“But I’m no innocent young thing. Mama Mary was a virgin and she was 15. I’m neither.”

“Ah, but you forget, God does move with the times. At the time, it was the way of the world. Girls were married off young and virgins. Now, it’s different. There are not a lot of virgins left. And a lot of women marry late or not at all.”

“Oh, wait. Does this mean I have to marry? Joseph had to marry Mary. Do I have to marry too?”

“No.”

I continued, not hearing him. “But I don’t want to be married. I’m okay like this.”

“He knows that.”

“Who wants to get married? I don’t want to get married just to be legitimate?”

“Stop! You’re panicking. Breathe.”

“But I don’t want to get married! I don’t even have a boyfriend. How can I get anyone to marry me and be a father of someone else’s child? Let alone God Himself?!”

“GALADRIEL. STOP. You. Don’t. Have. To. Get. Married.”

I stopped. “I don’t.”

“Nope.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

“But, but, but, Mama Mary did! And how will it look? God will be a bastard!” My eyes grew big. “Ooops! No offense meant. I mean it in the strictest sense of the word. Sorry.” I looked upwards and mouthed, sorry.

Gabriel smiled. “I know. He does too.”

“I mean, he’s going to grow up with a lot of issues. Daddy issues, abandonment issues, peer pressure! Even in this day and age, people still have issues about daddy-less children. “

“Yes, he knows.”

“People these days are meaner, more un-believing. Even I don’t go to church that often.”

“Yes, He knows that too.”

“But I can’t handle that! No mother can stand seeing her child hurting!”

“You will handle it. And I’m telling you, you don’t have to get married to have this child. You ought to know that. You said it enough times.”

“Then how--?

“Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong about people giving Him a hard time. But I’m not saying you’re right either. Put it this way. The rightness or wrongness of things becomes a matter of interpretation. The religious have a tendency to cling to the words and rituals rather than the thought or intention behind them. As a result, they become too literal. Other people on the other hand, developed a tendency to bend those words to suit our needs and wants, also forgetting the thought or intention.”

DINGDONG!!!

“Pizza!” He stood up and started for the door.

I stared after him, wondering how he will pay for it.

He stopped in mid-stride. Then he turned around, an impish expression on his face. “I forgot about the money.”

I chuckled. “I was just wondering about that.”

“I know. That’s how I remembered.”

We laughed.

“Here, let me handle it.” I stood up, retrieving some money from the counter.

He intercepted me. “No, no. Let me. This is a novel experience.”

“Okay.” I handed him the money.

“Good luck!” I called after him.

He smiled. Sheer delight evident on his face. I thought I’d go blind with the brightness.

While he was taking take of business, I reflected on what has transpired so far. This sure is turning out to be an interesting evening. More than I planned.

He broke through my thoughts. “Pizza is here!”

“Thanks! Get your share. Pizza’s no good cold.”

Gabriel got himself a slice and took a big bite.

“Mmmm! Delicious!

“Okay. Now that I’m a lot calmer, let me see if I get this whole thing straight.”

“Shoot.”

“I will get pregnant, have a baby boy, name him...” I stopped. Name him what? Jesus?”

“What do you want to name him?”

“You mean it’s okay to use any name aside from Jesus?”

“Of course. To quote one of your famous poets, ‘a rose by any other name smell just as sweet.’”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Even Procopio?”

“Even Procopio.” He looked at me. “You won’t name him Procopio, though, will you?”

“It’ll come it me.”

“Yes, it will. And when it does, listen. Like you always do.That’s one of the reasons he chose you, you know.”

“What?”

“That you talk to Him like you would anyone. That you don’t mystify Him. That you don’t care about all the mythical stuff. You just believe He is there, in whatever form, however way.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

“No need to say anything.”

We both fell silent.

I felt heavy and nervous. The way I always felt when I’m about to embark on an important or difficult task and not sure how well I will fare. Alright, alright. When I’m almost sure I will grandly fail.

We can’t go on talking under this heavy air.

“Okay!,” I said brightly. “So I can name him any name I want, bring him up, I hope I’ll do it well, and then eventually he’ll start doing His mission, and then... “ I turned to him again. “ Is he supposed to die? Is he supposed to destroy the world?”

He looked at me sadly. “I’m sorry. That, I cannot tell you.”

“You do know that I cannot be meek and mild, like Mama Mary was.”

“Yes I know. So does He.”

“So this is it, huh?”

“Yes, this is it.”

I sighed heavily. A tear formed and fell from my eye.

“Don’t be sad. You won’t be alone.”

“I know. It just feels so heavy and I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You can. He will never make a mistake like that. Trust Him.”

“I trust Him. It’s me I don’t trust to do this well.”

“You will.”



That’s how my life changed many years ago. And now I seat acknowledging all the people who approach me.

I look at my son, Eman. I named him Emmanuel. I smile, remembering my conversation about names with Gabriel. Yes, it did came to me.

It has been an interesting 30 years. I gave birth on Christmas Day. That made me laugh. Imagine being in pain but giggling at the same time. I didn’t think it’s possible, but it was. Everyone in that hospital must have thought I was crazy.

I knew he would be bright and sweet. And what a great sense of humor. I wish I can say he got that from me. But he is his own person.

I tried to give him a normal childhood, a normal life. I tried to show him life, both good and bad. And he grew up to be a good person. I wish I can say I had something to do with that. But goodness is innate in him.

There were difficult moments.

Rough times with my mother, who couldn’t accept that I got pregnant and I wouldn’t tell who fathered it. And while she softened up when she saw him at the hospital, she never lets me forget how I had disappointed her and that I embarrassed her, how I’d gone against right.

My sisters all tried to convince me to talk, to say something. But what could I say? No one would believe me. And even if they did, I didn’t want them to treat my son differently.

I never did get married. I wasn’t marriage material before I had my son, let alone after. Men do not take kindly playing second fiddle. But my son will always be my first priority. It’s too important.

After he graduated from college, I let him go whichever direction we wanted.

One might expect him to take up priesthood. But he didn’t. He worked for an NGO. His job took him everywhere.

That’s when he started to speak. He spoke of the plight of the people he came in contact with. He talked about their problems, came up with ways to help them. People started to know him. People came when he spoke.

In a short time, he made a mark. He spoke a lot about how things can change, that the only revolution that can ever really succeed is that of love, a change of heart.
Some people approached him to run for an elected position. And he always refused. He would tell them you don’t need to be in power to change things for the better. That it’s not politics or religion that will change the world. It’s us. That we all just have to start with ourselves.

Things started to get really bad. He stepped on a lot of toes when he pointed out the things that needed to be corrected. Powerful people do not like being told what they could fix and how they could fix it. Politicians were accusing him of just wanting to be controversial to get an office, to get power. Even the church and other religious organizations joined in the fray, giving sermons against listening to him because he wasn’t baptized into any religion.

We made that decision together. Everyone insisted that I have him baptized. I wanted to give him the choice. I wanted him to explore and then decide for himself. In the end, he thought it would be best not to be aligned with any organized faith. He thought it would serve his purpose that way. And I let him.

We got death threats. People stayed with me to protect me. I did not see him often anymore. He was constantly away on this and that. Although, he always managed to sneak a visit every now and then. Then we would have our long talks the way we always did.

I guess they must have been really keeping an eye on him. Because one day, one of his closest friends came rushing to the house. They got him, he said. It was all I could to keep from screaming.

I love him. And though I know he came from somewhere else, that I was just a vessel for something, someone far greater than anything we could imagine, he will always be my boy.

But now he lies in state.

Oh, there was a trial. Witnesses after witnesses came forward. Trumped up charges. From drugs to illegal business dealings. Everything they can stick on him, they did. They sent him to prison. Then one day, I got a call. He’s dead. Official reports say that he tried to escape and he got killed in the process.

I don’t believe that. Not that it matters. I didn’t even ask for details. There is no point. I had known this could happen. I had been tempted so many times to try to alter his course. But I couldn’t, in all good conscience, do it. That’s what he was here to do.

I stood up and faced the crowd.

Everyone stopped, the buzz of whispered conversations died. And they looked at me.

“Thank you all for coming. I appreciate your coming over to show your condolences. But while this is all very heart-warming and touching, I have only one request. Don’t let it end here. Let not his sacrifice be for nothing. Bring his words and beliefs with you. Live it. Pass it on."

And that is the story of my life. I am Galadriel. I was named after a faerie queen but was given so much more. I am a mother.