I am spending Mother's Day quite differently this year.

For the first time, I now have my own family to celebrate it with. But sadly, for the first time too, I no longer have a mom to kiss and greet a "Happy Mother's Day" early in the morning.

It would have been ideal, especially for a new mom like me, to celebrate this day with Mama. The bonding would have been different this time (stronger than ever) and the connection would have been more intense and more special, as I now have a profound understanding of motherhood—how it really feels like to be a mom and a superwoman at that.

It would have been ideal to treat Mama with all the things that would make her happy. For all the sacrifices and pain she endured throughout the years (as a SUPERMOM), she deserved LOVE and HAPPINESS today and EVERYDAY! But such is life. Such is death.

I only have her memories to cherish now. I only have her ways as a mother to replicate. I will love my daughter the same way she loved us—sincere, unselfish, unconditional. And probably, that is how I will spend this day with my family: To make them feel the kind of care and love our Mama showered us with. Simply put, she was the best mom! She was the star of our lives. We were her universe.

So to my family and friends who still have their mothers, you are lucky! Seriously. So treat your mom well. Love her dearly. Don't take her for granted. Forgive her, because her imperfections as a human being are nothing compared to her sacrifices as a mother. Her work is 24/7, just to give you life. So give her your time too (even just a fraction of it, she wouldn’t mind). Kiss her. Hug her. Talk to her. LOVE HER.

To all the moms out there: Happy Mother’s Day! We deserve a drink (Red Bull, perhaps?).

AND TO MY MAMA: I hope Wi-Fi can connect to heaven too. I miss you. Everything about you. Happy Mother's Day, Ma! I love you always and forever. I love you here and in the afterlife. I LOVE YOU, MA! I hope I’m doing a good job as a new mom. We'll take care of Papa. And I hope we are making you proud. I LOVE YOU, MA!

P.S. Can I borrow your bag? (I'm sure I'd get a "hehe" from you). *wink* I LOVE YOU!

So this is how it feels to not know God and to live as if lifeless.

It has been a week since we lost our mother to cancer, a week since I started to question God—His existence, His mercy, His power—to question all of Him.

All. Of. Him.

Imagine the pain of losing your dear mother just a year after the death of your beloved grandma, and three years after losing your precious sister. Such is unimaginable, actually. But it happens. It happened.

It happened to our family—a family whose love for each other is infinite, boundless. Despite the many twists and turns of life, we remained intact and optimistic. And after all these years of heartache, we kept our faith. We held on to Him—only Him.

So we could only ask God now, “why? WHY US?”

During our mom’s battle with cancer, we fought the battle with her. We prayed incessantly. We relied on His words. We found strength and comfort in knowing that God listens to our prayers and that He heals. We believed that nothing is impossible to God.

But all our hopes seemed to have turned into false hopes and our prayers seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. It felt like we were, again, blindsided by God. He took Mama from us too soon. And losing her was too painful, to the point that I’d feel numb, almost anesthetized of emotions. I couldn’t make sense of things, of life. It was too much.

Amidst all the agony and chaos, where was God? Where was God when we needed Him most?

Asking Him these questions was easy. Praying to Him was hard. After all these years of being a devout Christian, suddenly, I felt that I didn’t know who God really was. All these years, I kept my faith, but it felt like He was the one who let go of me. Suddenly, I felt that we were not worthy of His love. And nothing was more painful than that.

But questioning Him wouldn’t give us the answers we want. It wouldn’t make us understand why these things had to happen to us. More so, questioning God wouldn’t bring back our mother. So where do we go from here? I don’t know. I have yet to understand God’s plans for us, His purpose for this pain, for this loss.

So do I still believe in Him? I do.

Why? You may ask. Because when I tried to rationalize His existence, when I tried to discount His presence in my life, all the more I became lifeless.

(But just so you know, God, this got us. Time out po muna. Ang sakit na po kasi masyado).