My mother is my greatest failure.
After years of trying to keep my family together after my father died, I had to bring her to the airport last Friday. She flew to Cebu, probably never to return.
She had grown old–too old for her age–in the less than two years since my father and her father died on the same night in separate hospitals. She is with her family now, the one that works.
Whatever I do now, whatever freak achievement I con people into giving me credit for, will mean nothing compared to failing my parents.
My father, for letting him die in my arms. My mother, for failing to pick up the impossible slack that my father’s passing left behind.