By Gloria Greganda

The author, from Calamba, Laguna, returned home this year after having worked for 25 years in Hong Kong. This article first appeared in the Mabuhay section of Sunday Examiner, the English-language weekly of the Diocese of Hong Kong.

I am always struck by the thought of what Mary, the mother of Jesus, experienced as she watched her Son being crucified. I always imagine her pain. Her anguish over her Son’s suffering must be really incomparable.

This reminds me of when my daughter gave birth. As I watched her suffer the labor pains, I wanted to take away her pain and bear it myself, so she would not suffer—how much more Mary, whose Son died before her very eyes. Truly, a mother’s endurance is worth admiring.

In the world we live in, many stories have come and gone, stories about mother and child, some very touching and moving, some painful and some inspiring.

As migrant mothers, we too have our share of ups and downs whether in work or in personal life.

I would say that in some ways, we can be likened to Mary, because we too patiently endure everything—the hurts, the pains and sacrifices that go with being away from our loved ones.

Many times in our lives here abroad, we have to be strong and courageous, especially during those moments when we miss our husbands so terribly, as well as our children and our families.

Unfortunately, some of us succumb to depression to the point of losing our minds. Some of us are too weak to face problems and trials, which sometimes results in ending our lives.

But then, some of us have become closer to God, the more trials we encounter, the more we seek God’s comfort. We have learned to offer our suffering and sacrifices to him. We have learned to entrust our worries and even our loved ones to him.

I first went abroad to work in 1987. My eldest child was in grade six, the second in grade four and the youngest in kindergarten.

You can imagine how long I’ve been away from my family, because now they already have their own families. As a mother, I can only behold my children when I go home for my holidays, so I always see to it that I don’t let any chance slip away.

I behold them as often as I can whenever I’m home and each time my husband and children have tried to persuade me to just stay.

They say it is too difficult to be left behind and I jokingly answer them, ‘Mas mahirap kaya ang umalis (It is even harder to leave)’.

Gloria with Columban Fr John McGrath in Hong Kong

Many times I have turned a deaf ear to their pleas. Firstly, I don’t want to give up my service of the Lord, secondly, I fear the type of life we would have if I stayed home for good.

I didn’t know that every time I turned a deaf ear to their pleas, I was creating a wound in their hearts. I was never aware of that.

My youngest son once told me, ‘Inay (mother), when you first left home, I was in kindergarten, now my son is already in grade one, yet you still haven’t come home. When are you really coming home?’

I replied, ‘Very soon anak (my child).’ But the very soon became very long. My second child asked me what the real reason was that I couldn’t decide to come home for good.

‘What are your fears, Inay? Do you fear that we can’t support you? Inay, it is just a matter of trust. All you have to do is to trust us, your children, because if you don’t, you can never ever come home for good.’

My daughter too is urging me to decide once and for all, ‘Inay, you’re not getting any younger anymore and neither is Tatay (father).

‘How long have you been apart from each other already? I think it’s about time for you to relax and enjoy each other’s company after all those long years of hard work and toil. We will all be here for both of you.’

One of the many things I love to do is to caress my husband’s hair. One day, while we were sitting on the veranda, I caressed his hair and saw the grey strands. I told him that he was getting old because he had many white hairs. He replied that he became old waiting for me.

A casual remark, yet it left a great impact on my whole being. I could feel his ardent longing for us to be together. Yet again I turned a deaf ear to all their persuasions, because it really is too difficult for me to give up my job and, maybe, I can’t detach myself from material things.

All these times, I thought I was the only one making a sacrifice, but just as Arjay Venus said in his talk at St Joseph’s, the family we leave behind also sacrifices, because they need to battle with the loneliness and sadness they are feeling because of our absence; they also need to stay strong to fight whatever consequences there are from our being away.

When Melo Acuña, the manager of Online Radio of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of The Philippines, interviewed me he asked if there was a particular incident in my life as a migrant mother that I couldn’t forget.

I said yes. It was when I took a holiday at home after a few years in Hong Kong. I was unpacking my clothes and was trying to put them in the closet, but I noticed that all the compartments had a name tag already, the first Tatay, second Raquel, third Sherwin and fourth, Carlo.

I asked my youngest son, where I should put mine. He answered, ‘Di sa bag na lang po, kasi aalis din naman po kayo uli (just put them in the bag because you are leaving again)’.

A casual remark again, but I felt a pinch. I asked myself, ‘Is there a big effect from my long absence?’

Acuña then asked, if I was given a chance to turn back the hands of time, which stage would I like to go back to?

I said, ‘I would turn it to the time when I first left my children. I want to make up for those lost times and see how they grew up, how they laughed, how they played, how they cried’.

Acuña then asked me to say a few words to aspiring overseas workers. I said, ‘For those who are single, go, this is a big opportunity for you to change your lives, but for mothers like me, don’t . . . or if you do, don’t make it too long, because just like me, you’ll be missing a lot’.

My daughter once wrote to me and told me she felt pain seeing me work so hard and she would  support my living as I grew old. After reading her letter I couldn’t help the tears rolling down my cheeks, but they were tears of joy.

I am glad my children are truly giving us the assurance that they would fully support and provide for me and my husband. Nakakataba ng puso (it fattens the heart). I thank God for giving me wonderful children.

In return I gave them my word that I would be coming home soon for good and would be reunited with the whole family. They were very happy with my decision saying, ‘Inay, you made the right choice’.

With that I felt that a void in me had been filled and I felt happy. I think I really have made the right decision. When I get home, I can behold not only my children but my eight grandchildren as well.

Pray for me my dear friends that I may go on courageously with my decision without wavering anymore.

I am grateful I was given this opportunity to share once again my experience as a migrant mother and I hope that in going I leave behind a legacy to all of you, a lasting legacy that will always remind you that there was once a migrant mother here in Hong Kong by the name of Gloh Greganda.

I will always treasure and cherish all those times, those memories I have with all of you and will be keeping you in my heart, especially those of you who have taken me as your second mother in this foreign land.